First up, I'm going to share an old favourite, Clancy Of The Overflow. At the recent Queensland Poetry Festival I was very pleased to listen to Helen Avery recite it (along with half a dozen other classics) and have had it playing in my head a little since.
In the spirit of sharing other people's work, I notice the National Library are getting in on NPW and have done some sharing of their own. Also, poet and blogger Gabrielle Bryden is sharing poems this week that are mostly written by not-usually-poets. This link will take you to today's entry and you can scroll back and forth to see what else has been shared: she's sharing all week.
Yesterday I shared my buys and recent reads as well as an opportunity to get a copy of my chapbook, First taste, for $10 including postage within Australia, and promised to spend all of this week's sales on more Australian poetry.
I'm not sure if this link will work, but Cranbourne Library in Victoria are sharing poetry from a variety of Australian poets on their Poet's wall. I'm not sure how long it'll be there but if you get a chance, drop by to check it out.
I can't end the post without sharing some of my own poems. I have a few in online publications, so I'll send you to a few. This is an audio poem published in Cordite that I wrote shortly after the passing of my grandmother. Also on Cordite, this poem was written after noticing Claudia as a baby seem to discover for the first time that she was able to control her fingers. I have a few others on Cordite that you can find yourself, but I also recommend you have a good look around in general, there is some fabulous poetry available and it's all free to read and/or listen to.
This link to Verity La will take you to what has been called a brave poem, Shopping for girls. And... just one more: A poem about visiting my father in hospital for the last time that I would ever see him, in the June 2010 edition of The Diamond and the Thief.
I said I wasn't going to share the poem I wrote on Monday on WRITE day, but for some crazy reason, I've changed my mind. It's in the spirit of this week, right? It doesn't have a title, so feel free to suggest one (or anything else), though mostly, I just hope you enjoy it (especially after I sent you to all those not-so-happy poems). And lastly, feel free to do your own poem sharing in the comments (short poems or links to poems).
(Untitled)
Pulling my jeans on
I notice chicken shiton the cuff
remember wiping it from the side
and sole of my shoe yesterday.
I pull the jeans on anyway
because the shit doesn’t smell
and looks like dried mud
not that anyone will notice
or care
unlike when my toddler
has left a trail of snot
across the shoulder of my t-shirt
and someone invariably says
that’s disgusting.