Keywords: New Australian Poems
There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Philip Harvey
- 03 July 2012
7 Comments
More than once I observed him walking from the Medley Building of the University of Melbourne to Newman College reading a book, not looking up. It was the book leading the human through the everyday world.
READ MORE 
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Peter Steele
- 03 July 2012
5 Comments
Here's the mint still on my hands. A wreath, so Pliny thought was 'good for students, to exhilarate their minds'. Late in the course, I’ll settle for a sprig or two.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Tessa McMahon
- 26 June 2012
9 Comments
The bed on which I lie is scientifically sprung, approved by chiropractors ... and blessed from on high by Klimt ... Made by a woman Timor-thin, cross-legged on concrete.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
The hands which pressed triggers, wielded knives at innocent throats, were once the gentle sons of others playing in sand pits, shadowed from scorching winds, while I ferried my own to schoolyard bunkers and safe horizons.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Karl Cameron-Jackson
- 12 June 2012
9 Comments
My dad and his RSL mates repeatedly told us 'Vietnam was a toy-boy war, only 501 died' as though numbers are a marker of grief. My tears often fall in an unremitting flood for eight mates who committed suicide soon after they arrived back home.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
'No matter what we say it's about, it's about kids,' says the archbishop. 'If it's not about kids then it's not first priority. The worst sins ever committed are against kids. That will never occur again, not here, not if I have anything to do with it.'
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Peter Gebhardt
- 29 May 2012
3 Comments
Never hoards it, for he has new urns to make, for us to admire and, sometimes, to love.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Brenda Saunders
- 22 May 2012
2 Comments
I know it's autumn when exotic imports lose their cargo of leaves. Empty branches startle the sky, northern cut-outs curling in the sun catch on fence wire at the school, flooding gutters after rain.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Aidan Coleman
- 15 May 2012
4 Comments
When I feel the day is turning, I go — without a dog or child — to pray and walk the corridors of light and shade.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
- Chris Wallace-Crabbe
- 08 May 2012
3 Comments
At sleep's near edge I busily ask myself — redundantly, rather — where soul might have its home: Like the golden tumbling apricots right next door attending on Christmas, my body has attained what another age would have called a certain age.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
Her deep eyes glance up from the page
without perceiving me, the hidden camera trained
on her by my unbroken gaze.
READ MORE
-
ARTS AND CULTURE
O for a day without comrades bloody fallen, lovers in guttural grief, shrieking, sobbing, and mothers in stoic dignity, mantillas drawn tight, our heroic flame, corralled colts brazenly waiting, cruelly snuffed. Have we learned nothing my friend?
READ MORE