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and then at sunset
stars seeded from the sands’ fire
shot to bloom across the sky
underfoot, the desert whispered
now I stir, now I strike
like yesterday
one foot, two foot
now a kangaroo foot
hop to the left, there’s a light
gone past
and God sang lullabies
hush, the thirst
hush, the dry skin crackling against
swollen tongue
shhh
God said
I am in your head
cut it off
cut it out
come to me
chasm lips, the lizards seek
a resting place
erase yourself
bleach
and be clean
wind folds breath into dust
bones dance clear of flesh
and morning brings rain
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Evidently this has something to do with their (Burke, Wills, and King) unsuccessful trip to reach Mount Hopeless. As I am unfamiliar with the story of that journey I don't know how well this works or doesn't. I'm assuming this is why it doesn't really evoke anything much for me, but then again I did not grow up hearing the whole story, like I did with Lewis and Clarke. That something poisonous did not kill them before they died of the elements is quite amazing. I have heard that if you live all of your life in the outback, that when you die, no matter how bad you were, you don't have to go to Purgatory. Of course trying to go 150 miles across a desert in the middle summer, isn't the brightest idea. I do like the part in the beginning of the journey where Burke left the rum they had planned to feed the camels. Interesting hypothesis that. It probably took a non-drinker to come along and disprove that rum doesn't prevent scurvy. Seems to me they could have found a way to substitute worth drinking like Scotch!
Dale
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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The whole expedition was a comedy of errors, really... this isn't intended to be about them, but I expect familiarity with the story is required to pick up on the allegory, as you quite rightly point out.
Rum played a very important part in our history -- there was the Rum Rebellion, when William Bligh yet again faced mutiny, but of course that was only blamed on rum by teetotallers (the enemy of all great nations), when in fact it arose largely because the colony would have been better off if Fletcher Christian had done away with Bligh properly in the first place.
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Yes, well I didn't want to be rude and insult a national hero or something, but I thought the lines
"God said
I am in your head
cut it off
cut it out
come to me"
were somewhat of an admonition to the rest of the party regarding Burke, Burke being the "head" of the party. But yes, I am certain I am missing the allegorical aspects due to a lack in the knowledge of the specifics. For me this was an inside joke and I am on the outside. However as jokes lose their humor with the need to be explained, I'll forgo asking for one  However, as you brought it up, it seems Mr. Burke and Capt Bligh had a fair amount in common.
Dale
How long after picking up the brush, the first masterpiece?
The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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A cynic might suggest that the enormous virtue of simply being born English does not necessarily mean one is qualified to lead...
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this one is hard for me to give fair comment because i too, know not the story. but that said, it's still writing so i'll comment on that.
the poem has to be austrailia, or a zoo with roos. so i'm sure it's about a subject on or in auz. which helps me as the reader.
the 2nd stanza was for me the best. the sand becomes alive, an actual entity.
the dry skin crackling stanza works really well in letting me know what was going on with its good image.
the lizard stanza brings us the death and the last an epitaph, i changed my mind, i like the last two stanza best.
i can't really comment on how to improve the story or poem, it was a good read and had a fair few universal images. for me these were what brought some of the bacon home.
thanks for the read.
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Cheers Billy. It doesn't really hurt the poem to let on that I was trying to capture the descent into madness brought on by isolation; I really wanted to get that final irony in, being so close to a solution but just not being able to reach it. Not having been mad, I suppose it's a struggle for me
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i got the maddness part of it. it was basically the story of what they doing i didn't know of. so i don't thing that part was a failure (which is a strong word to use  )
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(02-08-2012, 01:01 PM)Leanne Wrote: and then at sunset
stars seeded from the sands’ fire
shot to bloom across the sky
underfoot, the desert whispered
now I stir, now I strike
like yesterday
one foot, two foot
now a kangaroo foot
hop to the left, there’s a light
gone past
and God sang lullabies
hush, the thirst
hush, the dry skin crackling against
swollen tongue
shhh
God said
I am in your head
cut it off
cut it out
come to me
chasm lips, the lizards seek
a resting place
erase yourself
bleach
and be clean
wind folds breath into dust
bones dance clear of flesh
and morning brings rain I am sure that it is part of the remit of the "serious" critic to make comment and judgement without actually requiring explanation of the content of the work under his light. All around may be darkness but that should only serve to contrast what is being dissected .It does no such thing. As I have no knowledge of the source of this tale I could google but I won't. So this is cold turkey.
Punctuation...what use is it? No use at all it seems. Now I know that this is deliberate form designed to allow the reader more interperative choice (yeah yeah) but I do not want choice....if anything I want guidance. This is my criticism so this is my gripe
Form. OK...it is generally a good idea to link form and content in some sympathetic way.This piece is haikued to within a foot of the cliff edge BUT it gets away with it by a clever randomness of rhythm; generated, unusually, by the stanzas rather than by the lines.S2 is particularly central to this process as it (mis)
leads the reader into an illusionary link between S1 and S3......and it works.
Meaning...no idea. This not the problem, however. The problem is I am initially uninterested in the content then become disinterested.I want to be able to take some cold meaning from the piece but it keeps pulling the ripcord and I am left hoisted and dangling whilst the story hurtled earthward without me.
Imagery. This is a slide show, not a movie. There are some fine snapshots ...I covet the last stanza!
Overall it is outside my comfort zone....but so is Ulysses.
Best,
Tectak
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(02-08-2012, 10:14 PM)tectak Wrote: I am sure that it is part of the remit of the "serious" critic to make comment and judgement without actually requiring explanation of the content of the work under his light.
Normally, I'd agree with you -- but I also want people to become better readers, so that the workshop experience may be enhanced for all, and to that end I will occasionally throw a crumb or two That which is completely out of one's purview often requires a little bit more of a key. Meanwhile, I am simply miffed because I do believe you compared me to that drunken sot Joyce!
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(02-09-2012, 06:01 AM)Leanne Wrote: (02-08-2012, 10:14 PM)tectak Wrote: I am sure that it is part of the remit of the "serious" critic to make comment and judgement without actually requiring explanation of the content of the work under his light.
Normally, I'd agree with you -- but I also want people to become better readers, so that the workshop experience may be enhanced for all, and to that end I will occasionally throw a crumb or two That which is completely out of one's purview often requires a little bit more of a key. Meanwhile, I am simply miffed because I do believe you compared me to that drunken sot Joyce!
Ah but somewhere in that simple miff the comparison ends! He wasn't always drunk...just always Irish.
Best,
tectak
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Yet no matter how incestuously you cast it, in the end, it is still high insult to be compared to that tree waster of abject servitude to such an undeserving god as the dialect of the Irish.
It would not do you any good to "Google it", this is an entrancement with the banal only a nationalist could enjoy, similar to the description of two old people making subtle and nonsensical comments while playing peasants behind glass!
Dale
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Perhaps it will only be well received in a country full of banal nationalists. I will think more carefully in future about my audience, and be sure to select only things that will interest inhabitants of the Northern Hemisphere.
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Jolly good! Make sure it is something we all know well, like the myth of Icarus!
Dale
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The goal is not to obfuscate that which is clear, but make clear that which isn't.
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I had planned to present this as part of a suite of poems for the Queensland Poetry Festival in August this year. It seems I will either have to rely on my own instincts to edit it properly or abandon it altogether. Or perhaps I should just rename it "a bloke goes mad in the desert", unless "bloke" is too vernacular for you.
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Although colloquial, I've run across it a few times before, as it seems endemic to any country where the British Empire shipped oars. I think you might have a harder time slipping "Shela" by, but I guess that has always been the case! I do think you need to include the name of the desert " Strzelecki". I mean, comeon, you can't leave that out. I know it is probably Heresy to inquire, but have you ever thought of retelling the story, with your pithy commentary, and symbolic images mixed in? That way no one would have recourse to fain ignorance of the events of the ill-fated, ill-advised, and just plain ill, or one could say of "Grey" health (they should have gotten the recipe for making those greens into the paste, instead of shooting at the cooks), adventures of the doomed Burke and Wills. I find the contrast between the difficulty they had in getting around, to the ease that Howitt had as he went about his searches and such quite interesting. I also find it wonderfully ironic that Howitt first killed 12 aborigines, and then present them with some kind of ceremonial breastplate for their humanity in helping Wills and Burke, well at least until Burke ran them off by firing his gun at them. Obviously another example of the man's genius for tactics, not to mention logistics. In some ways this reminds me of the Mexican celebration of cinco de Maya. It commentates the event of holding back the French forces for one day before being completely overrun. Oh well, I guess one takes one's victories where he can find them.
Dale
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Perhaps one day I will, when I feel like writing a ballad about Burke and Wills, which this is not. The title is nothing more than an allusion. However, I have no intention of continuing to point that out -- I'm grateful for the constructive critique that has gone before, and will complete the process alone.
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02-09-2012, 05:46 PM
(This post was last modified: 02-09-2012, 05:46 PM by billy.)
stop the bullshitting and critique the poetry.
sideline discussion about drunks, irish or aliens should anyone wish to mention them go in the discussion forum.
insults go in 'the sewer' or up 'the pigs arse'/admin
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"The title is nothing more than an allusion. However, I have no intention of continuing to point that out -- "
Did you? Sorry I must have missed that.
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Hi darlin', 
Never heard of Burke, Wills, and King, but a quick read satisfied me that I didn't necessarily need to know that story to enjoy the read- which I did very much.
Ya know the drill blah blah hope this helps :p
(02-08-2012, 01:01 PM)Leanne Wrote: and then at sunset --This opening grew on my quickly. Kinda just drags you right on in
stars seeded from the sands’ fire
shot to bloom across the sky
underfoot, the desert whispered
now I stir, now I strike --I appreciate the repetition here, but wonder if it would be better as 'I stir and I strike'
like yesterday
one foot, two foot
now a kangaroo foot
hop to the left, there’s a light
gone past --like the beginning of the end. Does this slow it down enough? Does it need an ellipsis?
and God sang lullabies
hush, the thirst
hush, the dry skin crackling against
swollen tongue
shhh
God said
I am in your head
cut it off
cut it out
come to me
chasm lips, the lizards seek
a resting place
erase yourself
bleach
and be clean
wind folds breath into dust
bones dance clear of flesh --loved this line. You make rigor mortis sound elegant.
and morning brings rain
Around the sixth stanza I got lost but caught back up (I think) at seven. When I read it aloud the last stanza is superb. You make-a me jealous!
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