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There are more than 200 results, only the first 200 are displayed here.
An elegy doesn’t need to be written straight after a death... and maybe one’s own death catches up before the obituary we write is published. It might be something like re-arranging modernism into structurally sound lines, or discussing the context of metaphors in poems about London and friendship.
Les Murray once confessed it was his mission to 'irritate the hell out of the eloquent who would oppress my people,' by being a paradox that their categories can’t assimilate: the Subhuman Redneck who writes poems. And therein lies the ‘poem’ of Les Murray: complex, contradictory, sublime, and sometimes ready to whip his enemies with a scorpion’s tail.
For those born in the wake of World War II, war stories seemed the greatest fun on earth. But the pity of it is monumental and we come to take it – if not for granted – then at least as part of the fabric of minds that had met with all that was terrible in human experience and all that called out for reverence.
Can a chatbot write a poem? The answer reveals something about the heart of human interaction. True connection, like true poetry, requires discomfort, vulnerability and a richness of experience that defies the simplicity of algorithms.
Nam Le is one of the strangest writers in the history of Australian literature and is also one of the most incandescently brilliant — which is very weird if you bear in mind that his primary claim to legendary status is a book of short fiction published in 2008. With 36 Ways of Writing a Vietnamese Poem, Le returns with a new work that encapsulates the brilliance and complexity that fans and critics have come to expect.
You open the atlas and run your fingers along the edges of continents, climb mountains, trace valleys, pause at coastlines of sand and wave. This is where you have been and this, fingers arched, is where you want to go. Death is too faint to be seen. Though you know it’s there, the undiscovered country.
‘The loss of memory by a nation is also a loss of its conscience.’ As the loss of conscience grows with each succeeding generation, one day righting the boat on the sea of forgetfulness will become impossible. In the end, what people don’t know, they won’t miss.
Stone Yard Devotional is a chronicle of a huge problem in our time: the sense of futility in all our efforts to amend. Wood may make us think, because despair is a constant stalker of the bravest of warriors against the destruction of the planet and the chronic toll of human evil. When compassion becomes a disabling burden, who or what can help?
This November 11, for many at ceremonies around the nation, the clocks will stop, the breath will pause for a minute to remember the dead and injured of war. And like the poppies in Flanders fields, the lists of names of men killed in action continues to grow: in Africa, in Europe and Asia. If history is our teacher, then we are very poor students.
Stray thoughts are ideally as light as leaves drifting in the wind, which land without making a mark. This week, however, thoughts and words drop as heavily as the hearts of Indigenous Australians after the Referendum on the Voice and the families killed in Israel and Gaza. Prose doesn’t cut it.
An intricate tale that delves deep into the realm of cults, deception, and the human psyche, The Running Grave goes beyond a mere detective yarn, with a narrative that confronts society's susceptibility to manipulation and questions the very fabric of our beliefs.
It's hard for a guy to cry endlessly and helplessly. It is. Some remote part of you shouts Man, get it together, this is totally beyond the bounds. But I couldn't stop. (From 2018)
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