He is risen indeed!

April 5, 2015

He is risen indeed!

— like Daniel Vettori, one-handed catch,
or Wingard marking like a boofy angel,
or Medhurst steadying before the net,
but with no ageing, no hamstring tweak,
and no second division.

And one day, we will see his face.
Perhaps tomorrow, or Tuesday week.

P.S. Cottier


Now, for benighted foreigners/those from non-cricketing, non-netball, non Australian Rules Football nations (for I hear that such places actually exist):

* Daniel Vettori is a cricketer who plays for New Zealand, who took a spectacular catch on the boundary in a recent World Cup match. I shall say no more about the eventual result of the tournament, although the word ‘plucky’ springs to mind. (Or plucked.)
* Chad Wingard is an AFL (Australian Football League) player who took a fantastic mark playing for Port Adelaide in a match against St Kilda last season. (A mark is where you leap up to catch the ball, often using another player as a fleshy ladder.)
* Natalie Medhurst is a prolific scorer in the Australian netball team, who exemplifies calmness and accuracy under pressure.

The ‘he’ of the title is rumoured to have been born in a non-cricketing, non-netball, non-Aussie Rules playing country. Can this possibly be true? (-: I shall try and understand this as I eat my weight in chocolate.

Tuesday poem: Mango

July 30, 2012


Skinned sun bleeds thickest honey,
flesh cubed into soft armadillos.
You whisper of summer, twin ears,
lure us like that other yellow,
the smiling curve of beach.
Lie in a hammock —
canvas forming cocoon —
and eat a mango;
where fruit ends and we start
is hard to say. Peel away
accretions of words and worries —
be stroked by gold to dream.

P.S. Cottier

Hard to believe that a couple of weeks ago I was warm. Now I’m in Canberra and freezing. It’ll be a balmy -2 overnight, and -4 is predicted for later in the week. This usually brings on questions of Why? Why here? Why not on the coast? (I know the answer was State politics and fear of invasion, but the mind still boggles like a most boggly thing.)

At the moment, Kazakhstan leads Australia in the Olympics medal tally. Though, to look on the bright side, there is no history of Australians mumbling ‘Bloody Kazakhs’, nor any great sporting traditions linking the two countries…And didn’t New Zealand do well in the hockey last night against Australia? I believe the Russian umpire was called Kakapovic, or something like that.

Amazing how idiotic sporting badinage cheers one up! Although the total fixation of local media coverage on Australians and only Australians at the Olympics is already beginning to pall. I’ve absolutely no hope of seeing the Kazakhs, for example, unless they’re up against a ‘plucky’ Aussie.

I am in a world of discomfort as I adjust to the gym, but I can’t stand people who whinge about voluntarily inflicted pain. So I decided to post a poem about my favourite fruit instead.

I wonder if there are poems about vegetable or fruity love published by anyone else? Click this feather and you will be transported to New Zealand, and will most surely find out.

Tuesday Poem

Perhaps that should be lines. The Cricket Poetry Award closes on 31st August, so if you have an idea for a poem about playing or watching cricket, it’s time to pad up.

The prize is $2000 AUD, entry is $20, which can be done by Paypal, and the announcement of the winner is made at the SCG members pavilion. The top twenty poems from each year have previously been published in a booklet.

Entry forms and full conditions can be found here. There is a tight word limit of 150, so there is no defensive play allowed. No Boycott. Only Gower. And that has to be a good thing.

Bloody batting metaphors. Grumble grumble.