Tuesday poem: In the pub
September 3, 2012
In the pub
Wedges of moon
float in my glass
sky lemon stings
Vodka ice glass
nine tenths hide below
titanic kick
Poker beeps
sour head nods in shame
beer swims laps
Salt chips taste
absent smoke plumes
long since flown
P.S. Cottier
internal combustion
After a day where my car broke down, necessitating a service call to the NRMA and a tow truck, I think a drink or two is called for. At least I was wearing flat shoes today, so I could walk home after sending my daughter in a taxi to school! I’ll have to get stuck in at the poem mines to pay for the repairs. About 200 years’ poetry should do it.
Now, click this boozy plume, dropped by a bird that can’t remember what, or who, it did last night. Read some more poems, a few of which were written by sober people. Perhaps.*
*If New Zealand poets are the same as Australian poets, I am just being polite here.
And here’s the official launch invitation for Triptych Poets Issue Three, of which I am one-third:
come along canberra
Book launch
August 24, 2012
Here’s the cover of my, or rather, our new book. Joan Kerr and J.C. Inman and myself each have a suite of poems in Triptych Poets Issue Three, published by Blemish Books.
The launch will be held at Paperchain Books in Manuka on 20th September at 6pm. Refreshments! Readings! Two out of three of the poets! Unfortunately Joan Kerr will not be there. I do hope I get to meet her some time.
Dr Paul Hetherington will be doing the honours. Do get along if you’re in Canberra. Josh (aka J.C.) reads well, and I’m not totally shabby either, so it should be fun.
I’ll post details of where you can order the book soon.
Tuesday poem: From a Railway Carriage by Robert Louis Stevenson
August 20, 2012
From a Railway Carriage
Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill, and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!
Robert Louis Stevenson (1850-1894)
From A Child’s Garden of Verses
On 7th September, the Poets Train (aka Poetry in Motion) will be leaving Canberra, bound for Sydney. Now this is not a plan by the burghers of the ACT to rid themselves of the tiresome pox of poetry, but an initiative of Australian Poetry, the relatively new national poetry organisation.
Vers libre: No-one is keeping it on the rails. Hence the lack of rails.
We will be composing poetry on the train. A chapbook of poems will result. Countrylink, the NSW train people, will be donating a return fare to anywhere on their network for the best poem. (How that will be judged is something I do not know. But throwing the other poets off the train seems like a wise precaution.)
In Sydney we will read and/or slam, given our preferences. I think it sounds like fun!
I will give an update on the Poetry Train later on. If you’re interested in joining the train, here is the Countrylink page with the details. (Scroll down). It may already be too late, but possibly not. You will have to book accommodation in Sydney (Fiona McIlroy, the organiser, whose email appears on the Countrylink page, may be able to help with suggestions for reasonably priced places and don’t forget a return fare! Unless you decide to stay in that beautiful, comparatively WARM city.)
In the meantime, the feather below may be pressed in an emergency. Such as if you feel the need for more poems.
On reading poetry out loud in a public place!
April 12, 2012
The very best poetry readings are where you manage to discover something about your own work while in the act of reading; that is, you forget the notion of performance while performing. Happened to me on Tuesday at The Gods, where I found a pun lurking in one poem that I had not previously noticed, and had to swallow an inappropriate laugh. (They do breed like rats just released onto a Pacific island in my work, it must be said. Puns, that is.) I also enjoy the response of the audience. A good turn up it was too, for Melinda Smith, Russell Erwin and myself.
Melinda Smith, P.S. Cottier, Geoff Page
I wore a Vogon poetry shirt, as a little reminder that if it didn’t go well, there are definitely worse poets out there, somewhere in the universe. But it did go well, and some very intelligent questions were asked of the three readers after the readings. You can see Melinda answering one being put to her by Geoff Page in the last photo, while I try and disappear behind the microphone. (Russell was there too, but out of shot. He’s the one in the striped top above.)
Reading one’s work is fun, as is discovering the work of others in their own voices. Melinda’s tart, elegant and poignant poetry, Russell’s dive-in and discover expansive explorations, and whatever it is that I write made for a varied menu. I managed to put in a plug for humorous poetry, too, during the questions. And people were laughing during parts of the reading, and I think in a good way.
Now back to the serious, beret-ed business of writing some more poetry, having scuttled out into a public place for a couple of hours.
Wine and reading at The Gods
April 7, 2012
Wine
Kaleidoscope of dreams opens
with a quick twist or gentle pop!
of cork, that dearest birth of joy.
Let us go down paths that wind
and never stop their winding.
Spin with me, webs to catch grief,
then let go the delicate and fine
who may flutter on to others.
Crimson measure in crystal,
I raise you to the sky and see
the world made kinder through
flickering, red-coloured glasses.
P.S. Cottier
And on the other hand, let this photograph be a warning to you all:
a little tired and emotional
I am reading at The Gods, Australian National University campus, at 8pm on Tuesday 10th (meals from 6.30). The cover charge for the reading itself is $10 waged and $5 unwaged. What a bargain! Because this is the day after the night that I usually post my Tuesday poem, I may not get to it this week. If so, please regard this poem, posted on Saturday, as a Tuesday poem. Have a glass of wine and that Will All Make Sense.
The other poets are the excellent Melinda Smith, previously featured on this very blog, who also has a book launch on the Wednesday at Smith’s Books (her book of autism poems), and Russell Erwin, whose work I do not yet know. Hopefully I will be in a state to remember it, should I be lucky enough to read first, and therefore liberated to have ‘a drink or two’ afterwards as I listen to Russell and Melinda.
There seems to be a pattern emerging…
PS Cottier 