Wednesday, April 02, 2014

New Poetry by Libby Hart


A memory of dancing with my grandfather: my feet placed on his feet,
each step lifting me across his living room. The air between us a trusted
loop as suburban light leaches. The touch of lace curtains, the smell of
dusted life, as I brush up against them. Once a turn takes hold I will rest
beside him—my
small body acting as talisman to ward off death. I hold
his warmth to keep him even warmer. I listen for the song of his
faulty heart. I will him back from the halfworld. When tidings fall from
his mouth I breathe anew. I listen to a tale of the Japanese in New
Guinea. I learn something about Errol Flynn. Somewhere inside this
moment there is a chuckle, a squeeze of hand to keep me anchored
otherwise I am like the wind.

- Libby Hart 2014

Eugene Schieffelin

I take this dark flight-body, its suit of speckle.Throat of feathers loose and long.Mimic chatterer, insect stalker, hunter of seed—this love-heart-wearer who stirs implicitly.I murmur safe passage and with upturned hands,with onlooking ‘O’, I watch her rise and wamble.

- Libby Hart 2014

A new collection of poetry from Libby Hart
Drawing upon fable, myth and on the mystery and wonder of the natural world, Libby Hart’s poetry takes the reader into astonishing and beguiling territory. She is able to reveal relationships and realities that for most of us are hidden and beyond our ability to describe. Her language is seductive, questing; her vision is daring. She writes with a lyrical fecundity few can match. I love these [Wild] poems for the way in which they embellish each other and keep faith with their convictions. These are poems I will be returning to again and again. Judith Beveridge

Wild is forthcoming from Pitt Street Poetry in 2014.

Tuesday, April 01, 2014

New Poetry by Phillip Ellis

Beyond the Curvature

Beyond the curvature of the world,
beyond the immediate world,

there is a wider world,
a world of seven billion, and so it goes.

The world that turns is the world I love,
a world that I can take snapshots of,
and construct a set of images of,
and do something positive for.

On nights like this, when the sky is humid,
and the heat crawls over me,
I wonder for whom this world is the same.
Does it move others to make poetry,

patterns that quote those that have been spoken,
and those that utter echoes that others refract?

- Phillip Ellis 2014