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 162
... never been there , who've never died from the weight of bad press , we who've never struggled into a personality like an astronaut into his suit , we whose little pains have little resignations not heavy golden handshakes and promises ...
... never been there , who've never died from the weight of bad press , we who've never struggled into a personality like an astronaut into his suit , we whose little pains have little resignations not heavy golden handshakes and promises ...
Page 191
... never God . There is starved and tortured skin between its pages , but never conscience . There's no time for it ( time is money , as they say ) . Lots of it is aphrodisiac , parades with changing partners , furs and tans , drives ...
... never God . There is starved and tortured skin between its pages , but never conscience . There's no time for it ( time is money , as they say ) . Lots of it is aphrodisiac , parades with changing partners , furs and tans , drives ...
Page 192
... never . She an Indian woman , never Oh Calcutta , all the millions she was born among . Her tone flat as the Nullarbor passing and the days she must assess alone . Outside , the horizon like an unmoved yellow flame , the later bushes ...
... never . She an Indian woman , never Oh Calcutta , all the millions she was born among . Her tone flat as the Nullarbor passing and the days she must assess alone . Outside , the horizon like an unmoved yellow flame , the later bushes ...
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