Poetry

A poem
By Les Murray
A poem
By Sarah Holland-Batt
A poem
By Sarah Holland-Batt
By John Kinsella
An on-drive to the boundary the ball going on and on through dust and dirt on and on past the shed all the way past the chook pen and on bouncing over bark flaked and fallen from wandoos and on over dried twigs and branches and chunks of...
Clive James’ ‘Sentenced to Life’ and Les Murray’s ‘Waiting for the Past’
By Justin Clemens
Ko Un, with his books. © Barry Hill
Meeting Ko Un
By Barry Hill
'Taller When Prone' by Less Murray, Black Inc; $24.95
Les Murray’s ‘Taller When Prone’
By Clive James
Frederick Seidel’s ‘Ooga-Booga and Poems: 1959-2009’
By Kate Jennings
For your consideration: “A naked woman my age is just a total nightmare.” Now there’s a rip-snorting line of poetry if there ever was one. Frederick Seidel, who is not afraid to repeat himself, offers the line not once but three times in Ooga-Booga...
The poetry of David McComb
By Robert Forster
David McComb, who passed away in 1999 at the age of 36, was the lead singer and songwriter of The Triffids. The band began their career in Perth in the late 1970s and broke up in 1989, and although McComb released a solo album, Love of Will, in 1994...
By Clive James
Scanning the face of a crestfallen wave He sees his life collapsing to a close, A foaming comber racing to its grave. But after that one, there are all of those: The ranks of the unbroken, the young men Completely green, queuing to take their...
By John Bryson
  Tiptoe, to cast his shadow far as once he could, now readied for the camera at short notice; speech notes: triumphs of his era; smiting critics, bell-voiced, ringing with self honour, dementia of the spurned leader.
By Clive James
  Merely a planchet waiting to be struck, The poem shapes up but is not a coin Until, by craft, and then again by luck, He fashions clean devices fit to join A scrupulous design that he would like To look mint fresh and not...
By Craig Sherborne
I’ll be dead and then they’ll go through my things, the weak son who never complained when I mocked him, the daughter who wished me dead I’m sure so she wouldn’t have to nurse me. I refuse to cut a spare set of keys. I refuse to risk...
By Clive James
In Dr Johnson's little novel Rasselas, the Poet tells the Prince about the psychological requirements of a poetic career. The poet, says the Poet, must "content himself with the slow progress of his name". On the other hand, he should learn to "...
By Clive James
Planning to leave Calypso in the lurch, Odysseus snuck off to build a ship. He found the right-shaped boughs of larch or birch Or spruce, for all I know, from which to strip The bark, and ... but the details we can skip. I won't...
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