Robert Adamson

Robert Adamson

About Robert Adamson

Robert Adamson is the is the first CAL Chair of Poetry at UTS 2012-15. He has published over twenty books of poetry and has been awarded the Christopher Brennan Award for lifetime achievement in literature as a poet, editor and publisher. The Golden Bird: Selected Poems won the Victorian Premier's Literary Award for Poetry in 2009. In 2011 he was awarded the Patrick White Award and the Blake Prize for Poetry. His latest book of poetry, The Kingfisher's Soul, was published by Bloodaxe Books UK.


The River Caves

We were keen young cubs, members of 3rd Mosman Bay Sea Scouts. Twelve years old and full of excitement, collecting donations for the club house charity. On bob-a-job week we walked up and down steep streets around the harbour, mowing …

Posted in POETRY | Tagged | Leave a comment

Internal Weather, for Randolph Stow

I dwell in this bone-cave     rocking cup of skull histories constantly re-writing themselves     weaving ‘brain-waves’          thoughts drift out from a fatty backwash   veins crawl with grainy information blood-cells pushed into the white country in multiples of ten                           you know nothing is lost we remembered     sand streamed …

Posted in 39.0: JACKPOT! | Tagged | Leave a comment


Driving through Kangaroo Valley I glimpsed a low slung animal in my headlights; pulled over and recognized a wombat — fog lifted its gauze, a clump of ferns moved apart. Another animal trundled out, then a third came into view, …

Posted in 39.0: JACKPOT! | Tagged | Leave a comment

Listening To Cuckoos

Two unchanging notes; to us, words—always those high elongated notes. Red-eyed koels with feathered ear-muffs, downward ending notes that pour through a falling of night coming over the distances, words that don’t change. The two notes remain, a split phrase, …

Posted in 39.0: JACKPOT! | Tagged | Leave a comment

Eurydice In Sydney

What did he think, while I was gone he’d done time in his head, was he still a mirror did he waste his brain dancing in the abstract darkness? Pain comes and goes, I notice things I hadn’t before, in …

Posted in 08: FESTIVAL | Tagged | Comments Off on Eurydice In Sydney

The Speaking Page

When the tide moves again comes up over the point here and spills into Parsley Bay, goes over the river’s torn entrails – your breath becomes tidal atmosphere, it heals deeply thoroughly then you begin to understand that the river …

Posted in 01: UNTHEMED | Tagged | Leave a comment