Revival 23

I received my contributor's copy of Revival 23 in the post yesterday. I have a sonnet included in the literary journal called "What the Rain Makes". I wrote it earlier in the year after driving to Dublin on a particularly wet night.

There are some lovely poems included here. I like the simplicity of "Bridie is on her way to prayer," by Chris Murray and the wonderfully woven "Watchmaker" by Tim Cunningham. Knute Skinner, Mae Leonard, Richard Halperin, Mike Gallagher, John Liddy, Maurice Devitt, Dominic Taylor and Fred Johnston have poems included. Elizabeth Reapy of Wordlegs and Arthur Broomfield of Outburst have pieces published too.

Revival was put together by Noel King, Mark Lloyd and James Lawlor. To purchase the journal visit http://www.limerickwriterscentre.com

Submissions for issue 24 are currently being sought.

The Emerald Isle

I'm home. The emerald isle seems apt after all the Australian opals I saw but do we produce any emeralds literally? After heady Malaysia where it streamed rain I touched down in London. It was a monster of a thirteen hour flight. Landing in Dublin was so very sweet last night.

I was saddened to hear about the death of Maeve Binchy. I read Echoes when I was quite young and loved it. The Copper Beech was a favourite too. May she rest in peace.

Picturing the old people

Picturing the old people by Genevieve Grieves is a series of captured images on exhibition at the Gallery of Modern Art in Brisbane.  The films are the imagined goings on at staged studio renderings, where Aboriginal participants were encouraged to engage in performances to make themselves seem "more Aboriginal".  The pieces are based on actual photographs studied by Grieves from archives.

The recordings are in black and white and you can sit by each film/photograph in the darkened room.  It is really intimate and enchanting.  The pictures are of two youths who captivated me.

Queensland Art Gallery

I've just been to the gallery and took two snaps of my fave paintings there. They're called "Rest" by George Clausen and "Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness" by Henry Hewitt. I'm going back to the Gallery of Modern Art next, especially curious to see the Aborigine artwork again.

The QAG is showing an exhibition:
Portrait of Spain - Masterpieces From The Prado.

Working Ants/Sleeping Grass

Hi blog.  Just checking in with you.  I've been doing some serious writing the last two days.  I hope to continue tomorrow.  I see these ants every day on the pavement.  They may be fire ants and if not they're obviously some species.  Below is a poem by an Australian writer.

The unquiet city by Chris Mansell

we are succulents
our cool jade arms open
over clean tables our fine bone
china minds pull the strings
of our tongues together we plait
our thoughts with the television
back through the aerials and
transmission towers prodding
through the literal fog
the mechanics of which distance
does not startle us or the ears
pretend to hear the telephone
the page also wearies
us we have taken the meaning
out of things by laying them face to
face in our dictionary of emotions
we are so entirely alone that we
are unaware of it
and we enjoy the religion of solitude
because religions are at base
meaningless and we can turn
from them to a new hobby
to clean ashtrays or emptier
whiskey glasses we the women
of our building Margaret Gladys
Cecily Ida Eileen and I have
the cleanest washing on our block
we are proud and air our sheets
although it's a long time since
any serious stain or passionate figment
seeped through that censorious cloth
we have plants one of us has a budgie
and I have three fish the details
are unimportant God does not come here often
we would be suspicious if he
did without an identity card
we collect each others' mail
remind each other of garbage
days and are frightened
of the louts from the skating rink
but in the night I leave
my curtains open and air
my pendant tremulous breasts

Chris Mansell

Aboriginal Poem

In Adelaide I saw the Aboriginal flag. I was perplexed and asked my friend was it the Japanese flag? She laughed and said "No it's the Aborigine flag".

The yellow at the centre of the flag is meant to be the sun. The red represents the earth and the black stands for the Aboriginal people. The original people! I've only seen one Aborigine so far, in Sydney and he was busking for tourists. I suppose this is what happens to mythical peoples, indigenous races who are wiped out. Well maybe that's what happened in the past.

I found this poem while browsing google. I think "the Rum Corps" were the police/law of early Sydney where a Captain Phillip subdued the Aborigines.

The listed servitude of roots

by Curly, QLD

Sonny it's wrong, to steal that car,
but it's all right to steal a whole country to live on.

Sonny it's wrong to steal that car, but it's all right to steal all the oil to fire it.

Sonny it's wrong to steal that car,
and it's right for the Rum Corps to pursue you to death.

Sydney

I've spent a fantastic three days in Sydney and took lots of pictures. The highlights were seeing the Opera House and climbing to Barenjoey Lighthouse by Palm Beach. It was twenty degrees yesterday and very sunny. We had a fantastic view out to the ocean. I got some light colour but used paw paw balm to soothe it.

This morning I sent postcards. It was fun writing them last night. I also played escort to the post office to a group from Taiwan. Go me!

Look at this gorgeous coffee below. It's the nicest I've tasted yet in Australia.