INHERITANCE
Poems from the Booranga workshop presented by Damen O’Brien –
in response to prompts about using metaphors to express firstly, something we
know or are competent at and secondly, something about which we know nothing …
I’ve invoked a title of one of Damen’s poems from his collection, Walking
the Boundary, 2024, Pitt Street Poetry, for this small gathering.
David Gilbey
Having a Good Transmission Maurice Corlett
I know nothing about how the transmission works
When I drive to Lockhart.
Our car doesn’t speak German.
Neither do I.
And in Australia I have no need to learn.
Living in Europe at the present time
May make it wise to learn a little Russian
With the fears of the western countries justified
Where you need a good transmission
Before the snow comes.
A sonnet - musing on mortality Carolyn
Dodd
Will I live to 100?
‘They say’ age is just a number
Isn’t it how you live your life – not how long it
is?
or is that another convenient platitude?
‘They say’ living to a grand age
is revered and esteemed, in many cultures
‘They say’ the Japanese are known for their
longevity
maybe it’s their attention to tai-chi – or the
seaweed in their diet?
‘I say’ didn’t my father live to 86?
and his father, before him, to the exact same
age?
a reasonable assumption is already at play
-
‘They say’ being an octogenarian has a certain ring about
it –
‘I say’ I’ll be content to turn the lights
out
14 years earlier than a century.
Where are all the cicadas? Jan
Pittard
Where are all the cicadas? she queried
not alone in mentioning the absence
of their nutty brown husks and shrill decibels
this summer
Is she nostalgic for her childhood summers?
Is a summer without cicada trill a poor depleted season?
Is she concerned for ecosystems?
There is art using cicada nymph shells
exhibited right here on campus
their seven year life cycle is noted
their absence not explained
bushfires hasten their emergence from underground
- guess it’s not comfortable there when it heats up
So where were they this summer?
I heard them once or twice
ringing out on Willans Hill
hidden from our sight.
‘The naked sword between them’ David Gilbey
What’s happening? asked my cool hairdresser
handing me a whiskey at my monthly cut & style.
A poster of beard fashions magics Ned Kelly
to an Iraqi refugee; vintage surfboard prayer
tokens; a full-frontal stuffed chimpanzee
on the merch table. I’ve just finished reading
Han Kang’s Greek Lessons for the third time.
Do you get it now? Mostly … two damaged
voices:
a mute woman fixated on language and a nearly
blind man fixated on seeing. Haunted by Buddhism
they speak a dream in Ancient Greek’s middle voice.
it’s more a series of pictures in an art exhibition
or an avant-garde piece of music like Stravinsky’s
Rite of Spring. What’s that like? Pagan,
tribal …
Tom turned off the salon’s rappy, croonish beat
and found a track, adjusted the volume
to what he thought would least annoy his patrons.
After ten minutes he tuned back to rock’s solace.
Hey, I really get this but it’s making me anxious
and I’m worried your haircut won’t survive.
Can the Earth be round? Christine Brickhill
How do you know the earth is round?
What is roundness?
I know that apples, oranges and soccer balls are all round
But, if I squash them, they become flat and juicy
Now juice is not round
It is not a shape
Does it want to be a shape?
Has it been asked?
It would be different if was a cricket ball
solid and unable to be squashed
Have you ever seen an ant fall off a cricket ball?
Have you ever seen a person fall off the earth?
Well no
I don’t think so
So of course we may conclude
that the earth is indeed round.
Booranga Writers’ Centre acknowledges the Wiradjuri people as the traditional custodians of the land in which we live and work and write, and pays respects to Elders past, present and future.
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