To be a poet one needs the six P’s – the pencil, the paper, the perception, the passion, the persistence and the unshakable persuasion that the poem is in fact possible and attainable. - Grace Perry
Showing posts with label Spaces of Convergence. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spaces of Convergence. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Zwischenräume - Spaces of Convergence

Check out the films of Ken Challenor, Di Barkas and myself reading our ekphrastic poems at the Zwischenräume - Spaces of Convergence exhibition.

Thanks to Adam Carr for all his hard work in getting these online and to Garry Jones for filming on the day.

http://southcoastwriters.org.au/article/event-2012-zwishenraume.php


My poem can also be read in a previous post here.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Sonnet - Byron Bay

I was back in the cafe this week after a couple of very stimulating Fridays. On Friday the 27th of July I read my poem 'Demokratizmi', which an be viewed here. There was a great turn out. The artworks look fantastic hung, having a very different and larger emotional impact than what they do as small images on the computer screen. The other two poets, Di Barkas and Ken Challenor, read out two very different, but amazingly clever pieces of poetry. Listening to Alena Kennedy and Rike talk about the art theory through which they interpreted the works was very interesting and had a strong correlation to some of the literary theory that I am currently immersed in for my honours thesis.

The first weekend of August I spent at the Byron Bay writers' Festival, which I recommend anyone interested in literature attend. It was a great festival, very laid back, but with some wonderful, successful writers in attendance. I especially enjoyed listening to Mike Ladd, John Tranter and Mark Tredinnick read some of their poetry and discuss the importance of sound in poetry.

So after all of this stimulation you can imagine that I had quite a productive day in the cafe this week. I completed the first draft of my petrarchan sonnet, as Ron Pretty requested for the SCWC poetry workshop. As you can see this sonnet has obviously been influenced by my trip to Byron Bay and not just in the subject of the poem, but also through my reading of John Tranter's Starlight: 150 poems, which is a book of mostly sonnets, many of which deal with similar themes to this one. Before I post my sonnet here I want to again remind you that anything posted on my blog is in draft form, I appreciate any feedback or commentary that you may wish to offer, but please respect the fact that these poems have not been edited into the kind of fine specimens that can be found in Tranter's book.


Byron Bay

The rhythmic drumming draws us to the park
and waves of colour swirl a crescendo
of bohemian pants that bounce, bongos
and marijuana smoke, as cries of ‘Spark
it!’ reverberate in a three year old’s
soft curls and waves that drum the coast retreat,
remeet, melding salt smells with sand and feet.
Our senses hula-hoop as we behold

the self-assuredness we long for in our selves.
The discontent of our lonely and busy
lives is dispersed as grains of sand are lodged            
between our toes, in our hair salt spray delves
unlocking the self we smother only
to fit the social standard. We are freed.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

Demokratizmi



The following poem, which was generously selected by the SCWC director as the July 2012 South Coast Writers Centre poem of the month, was written in response to Zwishenräume – spaces of convergence art exhibition. I wrote this poem in response to an artwork by Gela Samsonidse (the image on the right).

I have never previously written a poem in response to an artwork, which was an interesting, stimulating and exciting experience for me. I have also never written a piece that experiments with language the way I have here. I hope you enjoy it.

after an imprint by Gela Samsonidse
 

დემოკრატიზმი
(democracy) drums,
chanting from the people
mouths widen, marching
mi to the ballot box,
curving in a crescendo
climaxing in October 28, 1990
striking the floor, blood
(სის­ხლი) blood shed on canvas.