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 202
... dead ones - I feed the cats . I try to grow them back their stunted bodies , but can it be done ? They yowl beside expensive wheels , Porsche , BMW , and crawl out from this glassy , city rationality like chalk scraped down a blackboard ...
... dead ones - I feed the cats . I try to grow them back their stunted bodies , but can it be done ? They yowl beside expensive wheels , Porsche , BMW , and crawl out from this glassy , city rationality like chalk scraped down a blackboard ...
Page 242
... dead now just history in the sieve in this ventilator Or like a centrifuge the same blood from slaves or Christians ho hum pulsing out like clapping from a child blood flung out in fine spray over Rome's seven hills or the dark sea of ...
... dead now just history in the sieve in this ventilator Or like a centrifuge the same blood from slaves or Christians ho hum pulsing out like clapping from a child blood flung out in fine spray over Rome's seven hills or the dark sea of ...
Page 243
... dead . The world's too small / too big : the world hatched and won't take in islands , their one compass shaking approaches , and like them runs no flag , piracy and rape , Oh he is a pirate king water . It's not the post - modern ...
... dead . The world's too small / too big : the world hatched and won't take in islands , their one compass shaking approaches , and like them runs no flag , piracy and rape , Oh he is a pirate king water . It's not the post - modern ...
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