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 28
... gleam of your anecdotes . Outside , the glare of sun , light entering the limestone , days pouring . Birds splashing ... gleaming clay of his dung . And the grass , with its sweetness : all are ghosts , tamed blurs within his body , in ...
... gleam of your anecdotes . Outside , the glare of sun , light entering the limestone , days pouring . Birds splashing ... gleaming clay of his dung . And the grass , with its sweetness : all are ghosts , tamed blurs within his body , in ...
Page 142
... gleam of living : you live and will die not a Sufi or a mariner , but a poet . Your chest is ours as well , is packed with poems . Who knows if the latest accolades catch the light and gleam inside your darkness , they are no less solid ...
... gleam of living : you live and will die not a Sufi or a mariner , but a poet . Your chest is ours as well , is packed with poems . Who knows if the latest accolades catch the light and gleam inside your darkness , they are no less solid ...
Page 257
... gleaming threads . The pattern sweeps across like high winds sweep the earth the sky is rolling like navigation over and over onto the pilot , the cosmos unrolling into night . A famine passing on its way to hell . My mother's old , my ...
... gleaming threads . The pattern sweeps across like high winds sweep the earth the sky is rolling like navigation over and over onto the pilot , the cosmos unrolling into night . A famine passing on its way to hell . My mother's old , my ...
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