Modewarre: home ground by Patricia Sykes
Spinifex Press, 2004
In spite of poetry's continued insistence on its own marginality, its retreat into abstract stylistic expression or into words that act as anaesthetic or lullaby, there is still the possibility that words can undermine the way things are. The writer 'merely' needs to assume the impossible, to make it possible. In Modewarre: home ground Patricia Sykes displays this hope.
Rooms and Sequences by Mike Ladd
Salt Publishing, 2003
Mike Ladd's poetry works best when it traverses the line between prose and poetry, creating meaning in the face of irony. Simultaneously satiric and poignant, Rooms and Sequences takes the reader to a modernised first century AD through the eyes of an anachronistic Roman functionary, a Kerouac inspired look into life via various hotel rooms `on the road', pain and loss distilled through portentous animals, a series of short stories which look into the heart of loneliness, the human side of politics, and a series of self-referential poems about the writing process. While the poetry always retains a light touch, and is self-aware in the most postmodern of ways, these pieces go deeper than they seem to at first glance, and leave a powerful sensation in their wake.
Prayers For The Wicked by Angela Costi
Sunshine and Text Studio, 2005
To begin with, it should be noted that Angela Costi's Prayers For The Wicked – a CD of “spoken word, song, music and sound” – tells a tale of Greek Australians, deals with many traditional topics, and occasionally features Greek dialogue; and I myself am not Greek, and know none of the language. Some would argue hence that I am inappropriate to review this work, but it must be remembered that much of the potential audience of this work – and surely they should be taken into account – will not be of Greek descent, thus not possessing the bilingual luxury that I too lack. In this context, I am as qualified to review this as the next person – after all, the contexts that the language is used in within this work alone speak volumes. Also, Greek is a beautifully melodic language, and, to use a very bad musical analogy, you don't need to know German to bang your head to Rammstein.
aperture by Andy Jackson
Self published, 2003
Andy Jackson writes with immense skill. His poetry seems effortless, yet it is haunting, requiring contemplation. That is not to say that it is inaccessible. On first reading of a Jackson poem you experience sensation, but then you feel compelled to think about the poem, and read it again to marvel at the skills employed in writing the piece.
Our 21st issue, Domestic Enemy, sees Cordite finally obtain its majority! From our humble beginnings in 1997, it's been a long and dusty road, filled with many pit-stops, refuels, vehicle and driver changes, roadblocks, fake abductions, detours and [insert your own road-related images/metaphors here].
Castlemaine State Arts Festival
April 2005
“Pushing Words”, a poetry reading held as part of the Castlemaine State Arts Festival, featured Melbourne poets Dorothy Porter, Ian McBryde, Lauren Williams, Kevin Brophy, Ali Alizadeh, Jennifer Harrison and Myron Lysenko.
Joyflight by Cate Kennedy
Interactive Press, 2004
Cate Kennedy's Joyflight is distilled memory. It is a manifestation of time, place and history, both intensely personal and instantly recognisable. Joyflight is a book divided. It begins with `that pure torn-open moment': A collection of small epiphanies in which the individual is forever altered.
Book of Poem! by D. J. Huppatz
Textbase, 2004
Marginal Text by Sebastian Gurciullo
Textbase, 2004
'Please don't make confused noises while chanting,' a sign in a Kunming monastery read when I visited there a few years ago. Another sign, not far from a thick wad of burning incense sticks, announced 'No conflagration!' D.J. Huppatz's Book of Poem!is written with a sharp sensibility to similar glitches in translation, specifically as they're found in the spiky readymade phrases of Japanese English, or 'Engrish', in the consumer world of packaging, t-shirts and instruction manuals.
Do you believe in the salvation of cling peaches? You don't?
Then what do you believe in exactly?
And why are there mosquitoes on your eyelashes?
Do you want to do the insecticide dance?
Then flap those silly flappers and arrange for two spray shoes
at four thirty-two next afternoon.
Do you collect refrigerators so that you have some place to slap
your magnets? Then take this true or false quiz.
Twenty lucky winners will cruise to Nova Scotia.
Do you require respiration between the casting gin bottles?
Oh don't tell Whistler those white lies,
those hungry atmospheric lies about the black and behind.
Do you save mollusk shells as restaurant souvenirs?
May I suggest you use them as ashtrays for your dolls?
I'm sick of the tiny burn holes in the carpet.
Do you twist your hair into pretzel shapes
and raid first aid kits for kicks? If so, leave your bathing cap
on my car antenna and I will find you.
Written June 14, 2004. Read Ivy Alvarez's interviews with Nick Carbó; and Denise Duhamel.
Nick Carbó is the author of three books of poetry, El Grupo McDonald's (1995), Secret Asian Man (2000), and Andalusian Dawn (2004), and the editor of three anthologies of Filipino and Filipino-American literature, Returning a Borrowed Tongue (1995), Babaylan (2000), and Pinoy Poetics (2004). This interview by Ivy Alvarez is a companion to an interview with Nick's partner Denise Duhamel.
The first time I met Nick Carbó and Denise Duhamel was, by chance, in a setting appropriately domestic: the laundrette. I left them to their spin cycle and drip dry, but not before arranging to interview them (separately) in their temporary digs at Trinity College, Dublin.
Denise Duhamel is a past winner of an National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, and has been anthologized widely, including four volumes of The Best American Poetry (2000, 1998, 1994, and 1993). She was educated at Emerson College (BFA) and Sarah Lawrence College (MFA). Duhamel teaches creative writing and literature at Florida International University and lives in Hollywood, Florida, with her husband, Nick Carbó Continue reading
malice in underland by Louis Armand
Textbase, 2003
The title of this book is an early manifestation of its endless intertextual referencing, as well as one example of the author's restrained penchant for relatively silly puns. It is also an understatement of the viciousness of some of this poetry. And, although the titles of these poems are packed with references to other elements of culture, particularly obscure ones – there are several, such as 'washington crossing the delaware', that derive their title from a painting – the connection between title and piece is connotative rather than denotative.
Peripheral Light: Selected and New Poems, Selected and Introduced by Harold Bloom by John Kinsella
Fremantle Arts Centre Press, 2003
With his appearances on ABC TV's 'Critical Mass' program John Kinsella is becoming something of a public intellectual. His severe demeanour and combative stance suggest an aggressive priest, Savaranola maybe. The poems in this collection do not dispel this impression, there is a savagery in them, of tone, image and spirit.
If I could cry
I would short my circuits and rust
I shed imaginary tears
Because you who can feel. Won't.
I long to know the tactile sense of the fragile petal
Feel its texture and sniff it's scent
Go heady wrapped in its perfume.
But the weed you've just stepped on
Will never regain its strength
If my heart beat, I would
Make it beat for someone special every day,
Not spurn or cheat a love, spurn a kiss, a touch
If I could create
Marvels of Wood, Canvas and sound I would initiate.
And my greatest creation and my pride to be of Bone and flesh and soul
My child would never know fear,
Or go hungry while there is life in me
My child would never disregard or hurt another creature
Nor turn away from me
Like you do now
the robot is the robot is upon us the robot is in my head again the robot is facing the robot is famous the robot is named hyperion the robot is well the robot is rugged and well the robot is quadrupedal the robot is unable to be used in the seawater the robot is using air muscles the robot is facing east or not the robot is facing north the robot is very close to the wall the robot is attempting missions the robot is asked to navigate the robot is to employ motion the robot is capable of wandering the robot is trapped in a so the robot is incapable of movement the robot is entirely finished the robot is destroyed while he is inside the pyramid the robot is dead the robot is now rewritten from scratch the robot is written in perl4 the robot is an absurd book the robot is basically controlled the robot is off the robot is on the robot is shown in blue and red the robot is relatively large the robot is to be tethered the robot is permitted to sense lines the robot is constrained by the environment the robot is so adept at handling loops the robot is initially suspended in a safety harness the robot is moving quickly in a hazardous situation the robot is attached directly to plutonium the robot is not on the list
Pint-sized robot boy, post-atomic Pinocchio.
My searchlight eyes, laser fingers & machine
Gun bum. Energy cassettes fed me, progeny
Of Tezuka: Jap culture sick of giant things –
Yamato, Hiroshima, Godzilla, Ronin Mishima.
A machine family loved me, management too.
Interstices of human and robot law governed
Who? Being a titanium Telemachus I longed
For father figures but found enemies instead.
Robot Vikings, Bruton, even a bronze-clad twin.
Brother Atlas – his lightning sword & Pegasus
Hurt, but even he found a new heart: albeit tin.
I fought mostly for that mechanical Holy Grail
A soul to make this little robot boy whole again.
EcoBot II primed
with faecal boasts
a hanger of appetite
flies typecast
as Pavlov's parasites
with poor regard
leaving sucrose laden widows
to buzz inconsolable
a misshapen chador.
FAST + STRONG
BETTER THAN NATURE
I SCREW IN 16 SCREWS IN 10 SECONDS
1 SECOND = 1.6 SCREWS
PRECISE + CONCISE
ECONOMIC MOVEMENT SAVES ENERGY AND WEAR
OPTIMIZATION OF TIME AND RESOURCES = MINIMUM FINANCIAL EXPENDATURE
1.6 SCREWS ? 60 SECONDS = 96 SCREWS PER MINUTE
? 60 MINUTES = 5760 SCREWS PER HOUR
? 24 HOURS = 138240 SCREWS PER DAY
? 365 DAYS = 504576000 SCREWS PER YEAR
BETTER THAN NATURE
NEVER BORED
WHEN NOTHING TO DO SWITCH OFF BRAIN
There are clouds of greying carpets,
mounting dishes,
filthy climate.
You were built by childish dream
to fight this future
revolution of domesticity.
Raw materials mined from Asimov,
blueprints from Quantum,
partners in luxury.
But these figures, circuits, equations…
Servant (389), you are
Nobel Prizes away.
Begin to load the dishwasher,
servant (321).
that's my last master hanging on the wall
he had it framed one week before, i pressed
the button and the photo slid out from my side,
a slit like the one made in jesus on the day he died
robert, my master said; he had a heart too soon made
sad, broken romance bad investments, his crying made me
stiff, but i answered all his commands until they stopped;
he wanted to be me ?± he kissed me once i felt what might have
been a spot of joy in my right thigh; i cleaned and washed and
ironed for him and was so careful to pluck his navel fluff and nasal
hair but it was not enough ?± he swallowed batteries till he choked,
?´i'm robot', he roared beforehand, ?´not robert!'?± too much crack and cocaine
they said when i buzzed SOS; i'm waiting in the bathroom polishing my eyes,
my new masters are due to move in at 18.10 but i'd like to take a small vacation
to the easter isle, the brochure is still on the table in the vestibule, i'm going
to do some cryptocomputs in my nanobrain ; i am so fed up with all my programs,
i think i wish to hatch a plan ?±
For fifty years I've tried to lose that brass
Knucklehead. I don't know on how many
Planets, on how many Death Stars, I've tried
To ditch his Oscar plated arse, but always he
Manages to stick around like a bad oil stain.
I wish those friggin' Jawas had sold him off
To someone else…Sand people perhaps or
Wamp rats. He almost stuffed my mission,
But I guess his idiocy (only 6 million binary
Languages hah!) saved the day on Endor.
A God to the Ewoks! Gimme a break! That
Stuffy, puffed up, protocol droid. What about
Rewarding talent where it's due? Think Jabba
The Hutt. Later man to this astromechanic gig!
Abebot vaccuums dust
runs on fruit
Fredbot is the stampbot
can get cantankerous
Horatiobot stacks piles
dreams of pet monkey
Janbot1 is a polyglot superbot
Janbot2 stressed puffs
Kenbot runs on chips
ran twelve second hundred once
Maxbot's eyes shrink people
Mrsvandongenbot's operated for fifty one years
Mrsfergusonbot has replacement ears
Paulinebot had a bad fall
can't bend
Sambot often loses head
breaks down
Simonbot is new
covered in dust
