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 167
... inside and where some -thing is wrong . The pain is in foundation and in bridge , it aches like dropping through but staying on like the saxophone's inside you or the pneuma of machines . The first he shakes within a nerve - end kind of ...
... inside and where some -thing is wrong . The pain is in foundation and in bridge , it aches like dropping through but staying on like the saxophone's inside you or the pneuma of machines . The first he shakes within a nerve - end kind of ...
Page 179
... Inside , our journey is our conversation : the words spoken like another car we each sit inside , and inside us , now they are said , the words live again , and what they mean said , and what we thought they meant . And inside these ...
... Inside , our journey is our conversation : the words spoken like another car we each sit inside , and inside us , now they are said , the words live again , and what they mean said , and what we thought they meant . And inside these ...
Page 259
... inside their hands . Or memories of war , of Syria , men now dead walking through the sunlight like an extra line of heartbeats you've kept inside your chest . I'd like to say there's light , dawnlight , and through it you'll come ...
... inside their hands . Or memories of war , of Syria , men now dead walking through the sunlight like an extra line of heartbeats you've kept inside your chest . I'd like to say there's light , dawnlight , and through it you'll come ...
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