New and Selected PoemsAcclaim for Salom's poetry- Sky Poems- there has been nothing quite like these poems in Australian poetry before ... Sky Poemsshould be read by anyone who cars for scope and scale in poetry, and who enjoys language at full stretch. Peter Porter The Projectionist- a richly fruitful experience - a voyage of poetic discovery. Bruce Beaver, Weekend Australian |
From inside the book
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Page 150
... ( besides - now there are only records ) . The brass scoops and explodes , cymbals scattering the harsh , too brilliant sunlight , the heart that pounds there beside its silent twin , recording all that has been and is still to come : the ...
... ( besides - now there are only records ) . The brass scoops and explodes , cymbals scattering the harsh , too brilliant sunlight , the heart that pounds there beside its silent twin , recording all that has been and is still to come : the ...
Page 184
... beside me in the bar reads desperately , signing that she waits for the man who loves her aching cheekbones more than I might . The man beside me stares into his smoke . His fingers burning he inhales , full of loneliness , and chokes ...
... beside me in the bar reads desperately , signing that she waits for the man who loves her aching cheekbones more than I might . The man beside me stares into his smoke . His fingers burning he inhales , full of loneliness , and chokes ...
Page 202
... beside us , its back seats empty , which is odd , then the middle , and the front . The bus is empty , like a ghost ship . With an old Chinese banging gears , inured to the heat . *** I do not feed the spirits in this seventh month ...
... beside us , its back seats empty , which is odd , then the middle , and the front . The bus is empty , like a ghost ship . With an old Chinese banging gears , inured to the heat . *** I do not feed the spirits in this seventh month ...
Common terms and phrases
Anthony Caro arms Australian Australian Book Review BENJAMIN BRITTEN beside blood blue body bonang breasts breath cold colour dark dead death door dream drunk dying empty eyes face fall fear feel filled fingers fish flame flesh ghosts glass gleaming gone green hair Hallaj hands head hear heart heat Hermit Crab images inside JUSSI BJORLING legs lift light lines live look lovers move Mullewa naked never Newcastle Poetry Prize night pain past PHILIP SALOM poems poet poetry Pol Pot primal scream rain river shock shoulders silence singing skin slow smell someone sound spin spine stare stone strange street Sufis sunlight there's things Thylacine Tiger beer touch trees turn Venice verismo voice waiting walk walls watch wayang wheels wind window woman women words