Archive for August, 2006

I was once a doctor of philosophy

reading this phrase in this book it said: the ‘dinner party’ test is a good way to see if you understand your own thesis (i paraphrase). well i haven’t made the proposal yet (300 words, i shall probably scribble it near deadline) but i tried the test & failed abysmally. i just want all the scholarship money, seriously there is no reason why postgrad poetry students shouldn’t have the prestige of some scientist.

no, well, i do want to study certain notions. i’m aiming to trace ‘something’ in some of the big aus poets to what i & others do today – namely, communicate & create virtually. christopher brennan took on european modes & there might be some curious tension between avant & australianism in his work. kinsella writes in the intro. to a dransfield retrospective that he saw himself as “international”, “political”, & “prophetic” (big words of course). to what extent can some of these impulses be realised with what we do today (we particpate online, we write & collaborate)?

oh & the creative component. there is always this. & it can always be self-published these days, a certain anxiety about poetry being ‘publishable’ research is eased.

what do you think readers? would you throw money at my vagaries, sponsor me for three of four years of poetry?

& yeah, collaboration. why am i not doing this? i think an interesting side to this research might be some collaboration with writers born & bred in countries other. i’m going to pursue it. if you are a writer non-australian (unfortunately i am constrained by english language) lets write poetries. why not?

windows says bedtime

reading shklovsky’s the third estate & feeling astounded at what he did. i had only ever read his famous art as device essay, & had thought his idea of enstrangement really intriguing (enstrangement, estrangement, defamiliarisation – whatever) but now this book has shown me another side to his work. beautiful writing: autobiography, theory, fiction & the enstranged merge…

oh & i always wanted some ‘driving concern’, some reason to express myself artistically, but i just realised i have used kinsella’s name in 3 different poems recently. i’m not even that familiar with his work. in the latest one i talk of how much money he has – i know nothing about his personal wealth. all unusual. maybe it is just an ornamental pleasure i get from the arrangement of letters. that is good enough i suspect.

also read houellebecq’s atomised. i’m sure it’s all been said before. i don’t know what to say about this book.

day two tuesday: leapt but forgot the jumper

written so many poems leaping out this window to a tinted death
carrying the dog too – that with the next thought flies past turbulence
nipping my shoulder my
annoyance green a mild green & the rows of tree not quite a distant
neat like the vertigo so landmark in dreams, it’s doubt & the worst
sort on a postage free tuesday no less
i skim the curls of a rectangle jumper blue & slowly observe the
only way the cut of shadow goes past planet boundaries a surprise.
a firm sort of happiness this
mid-pace resistant to science & wind subtle i do not notice a flying
creature (who would) flying i glow with so many poems twists of
imagining bottled red; disposable
silver; hospital neon i have to hover to reconsider, how today’s scope
might have implied curves is a journey & anyone’s guess, all i did
pluck my own death from a
turpentine fresh context. scraped stillness inheres now & that jumper
inside sits: baleful i rejoin it.

big arcades

thinking a big academia f u saying
several versions different of nothing
the size the words effervescent verb like
a new aspect a hole only get out of mine
however: ‘discussing how i feel’ relevant
peculiarly this not isn’t or never can get out
& at stake of issue is my rampant will to be
thought to get thought to have a thought some
sort of multiple thought thought you I thought

oh clever me catching bandicoots evolved from the more
plebeian coursework capers & never before no never did
thought rain in to say shout maybe speak of me being not quite
up to it banish that instant in soup lever that phrase out perfunct
originate somewhere better / oh autobiography of red the postman
shoved it into my slot with little regard sexual it was all things now
both things recall reader a big bend in both our covers who gets the
blame for that who receives who is passive who is thinking of logging in

attention drawn

check out some images by mazen kerbaj, a blogger drawing pictures & listening to bombs drop

stupor sunday

feeling frazzled. not like those freaks down at fraggle rock…

the poem is a complete answer in itself. it is a coherent unit of thought. to explain or explicate such a thing is pointless.

says me stuck in a world of academic jargon. i need some time on a remote farm. anyone have one they can give me? come on, a farm is not much to ask for…


issue 2 of Otoliths has gone online. this is a publication full of interesting works, from all over the world. it actually makes me feel a little unsure of my humble birds poem.

well, best get to some more writing perhaps?

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