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 79
... blue - metal shakes like a bed of nerves . They're drawn into the heat . Until the rails hiss , go silent , more than just complete . *** Fire on both sides . The train crawls , the line a set of rungs through the bush's blue - brown ...
... blue - metal shakes like a bed of nerves . They're drawn into the heat . Until the rails hiss , go silent , more than just complete . *** Fire on both sides . The train crawls , the line a set of rungs through the bush's blue - brown ...
Page 85
... blue as you first encountered it : unhatched from the static of astronauts ( too far up , surrounded by darkness ) but held in the metaphors of their white speech . Blue world . You grip it in your hand , arm outstretched . It keeps ...
... blue as you first encountered it : unhatched from the static of astronauts ( too far up , surrounded by darkness ) but held in the metaphors of their white speech . Blue world . You grip it in your hand , arm outstretched . It keeps ...
Page 94
... blue , blue hordes arriving billion - fold from all directions with bursting cases . We're overrun with blue . Ceramic and china blue , Pollock and that blue about poles , blue the flash of fuses , not confused with the oh so spiritual ...
... blue , blue hordes arriving billion - fold from all directions with bursting cases . We're overrun with blue . Ceramic and china blue , Pollock and that blue about poles , blue the flash of fuses , not confused with the oh so spiritual ...
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