All copyright © 2003 remains with the authors.
All copyright © 2004 remains with the authors.



Snapshots
12/10/03






MELBOURNE STORMS

Max
I can't quite
keep up
with australia
first it's
all fires
then all floods
power surges
loss adjusters
tarnished pianos
six foot men
in three foot beds
and what were
exactly the three
unamed books?
where is the slug?
secrets washed out
wardrobe watersports
but
the image
in my head
of dry cleaners
inundated with men
taking back
all their
womens clothes
sort of lingers.

pmcmanus 08-02
raynes park

***


green praises the rustling avenue
pollen fine hair falls
here is the gear, push and shuffle
clear of my hill of mistakes

I will have you back in this latitude
fair ample sky and ground
despite the drag of seasons
finally the weather opens its arms

a new version of blue is blowing
summer skin into our hands

Jill Jones. 3.25pm Wednesday 10 December 2003

***


My Backyard 4 - Everything

When it rains

my ducks stick their beaks in the mud and search for things

slugs and bugs I guess.

They have white feathers.

Their whole bodies, apart from the orange bits, are white.

Despite this, they spend hours slurping around out there.

It seems a little strange

but they stick together.

You should see them - I could watch them forever.

There is no point to this.

They are ducks.

They stick together.

Their white and orange bits are covered in mud

and, it seems, they are happy.

It's very challenging -

you have to watch and watch

but if you keep watching

things you once thought of as important, will pass

and days of seeing nothing

but white feathers and black mud

will tell you something, at last.

Clint Greagen 12.10.03 AustraliaPostdiluvian snap

***


The dog still trails her mistress
everywhere round the house, concerned
her bed has been displaced.

The master ponders the fungus
sprouted on the guest-room wall.


The mistress clinches deals
for cleaning and flooring,
wondering what she can wear tomorrow.

'Remember before the flood?
Life was so quiet and easy.'

'Positively antediluvian,'
ponders the word-fancier.

- 10.30pm, 10 December 2003
Max Richards, North Balwyn, Melbourne

***


make my day a little holiday fill-in-the-___________-poem how do you make time time for all the times ____________________ sits in front of you like a take-no-prisoners two year-old or a________________ or a wall rising up, the tide of days before _______________ when you are supposed to make merry make those scrumptious desserts ________ always expects and then on top of that as if that were not already over the moon make space in the living room, ________'s room, the guest pull-out couch, the squeezed-in-tight place in your heart and make peace around the table, the____________ and make do when________________. just how do you make it look so easy. oh how you make me smile!

Deborah in NJ
a poem for our gathering
of family service workers
in daycare centers in Newark
6:44
Deborah L. Humphreys SC

***


currier and i've got a lovely view outside my back windows

the snow fell like a blessing
in disguise
a covering of white
over the oil-slicked skin
of a swimming pool, the tar lagoon
the abutting neighbors have
abandoned to the elements
once-upon-a-summer ended and the plastic
bobbling toys went inside, the boom box music
unplugged
the seasons turned, the sun and the shimmer of wind
across the top, kalaidescope of mold
and like the early snow now, the brown oak leaves
covered up whatever was living in the jello

my flight of lochness escapades
noirin says keep the back bedroom
when it rises
it will eat you first.

Deborah in NJ
7:49
a snap inspired by the weather snaps

***


is the world still with us
at all     the planet turns
beneath us impersonal

but not unperturbed
by how the world's
waning law lost

in the snow or sand
plowed through
exploded    the idea

thrown out against
that heatdeath of
the mind mined

and blown up out
of proportion
all the freedom

promised and denied
the world spins
its own narrative thread

Douglas Barbour
Edmonton 08:25 Wednesday December 12 2003

***


after reading Halvard Johnson's G(e)nome
the straight connections become cheerfully unglued--
and I feel haunted down my DNA's spiral staircase--
rave kid's glow sticks-- those worms float by--
neon, too vibrant to gather     but I pull them
down through some uplink all their dreams
           someday soon I hope like acid I could drop
a gene-splicer and in a short twenty-minutes
haunt back up the spiral and then to sleep
nestled near the labia of some god

West Irondequoit, New York 112-10-03, 12:15 PM
Jerry Schwartz

***


BROWNIE SPEAKS



De-dah cookin' daahound.



Lush, and yet,

like Rollins,

chastened,

melancholy.



Be-bop prosody implies an improvised melody--

harmonic and simultaneous.

Barry Alpert / Silver Spring, MD USA / 12-10

***


BRIDGE
(after Sonny Rollins, 1959)

Rollins grows his legend,
sprawls tone across
the Brooklyn Bridge walkway,
into the black,
healing up hero
no longer heroin,
drawing starpower,
giving it back,
making love to lights
and velvet of City night.
God bless this child
he is is own
he is God's child.
In the building where he lives,
a God's child, newborn, sleeps sound
undisturbed by the weeping brass
for Sonny has gone to the Bridge.

Ken Wolman, 12/09/03-75, 12-10-03 (2:02 PM)

***





Poetryetc is a listserv relating to poetry and poetics which provides a forum for poets to debate their critical and creative work. The list has over the years run a number of projects for its members, of which Snapshots has been the most enduring.

Every Wednesday, Poetryetc members were invited to post short poems on any subject or in any form they chose. The idea was to make a poetic collage of instamatic “snaps” of that day that reflected the international membership of the list. The project has generated an astounding number of poems.

The first two runs, of six weeks each, and the first ten weeks of the third run, are archived at Wild Honey Press www.wildhoneypress.com under Poetryetc Project. The rest - amounting in all to a run of a year - are archived here.

Poetryetc, like its affiliate Salt Publishing (http://www.saltpublishing.com), was founded by Australian poet John Kinsella. Salt is managed by Christopher Hamilton-Emery (cemery@saltpublishing.com), while Poetryetc is owned by Alison Croggon (ajcroggon@bigpond.com). Poetryetc is now archived at http://www.jiscmail.ac.uk/lists/poetryetc.html. and anyone interested can join from that url.

To contact the listowner: Alison Croggon


These pages are designed, maintained, and hosted by Rebecca Seiferle, the Editor of The Drunken Boat. To email.


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