States of Poetry SA poems
The do-it-yourself piano isn't
kicked to matchwood, and you take
this for affirmation. When we
work out how to switch off
Bob Dylan, your plangent homemades
will go unaccompanied, no longer
sought like an injury lost in the mists
of Hansard. People suggest topics
they won't be using, and this is
more like an archive sneeze
than what yesteryea ...
I wonder what happens
in Seb's kitchen, I see
him round the corner
into the room, sun shining, cat
ready for food, a grin
that is mixed of resignation
& amusement eyes alight
for the opportunity
each day brings. I always
liked the way he understood
things – things I've
never understood –
as an open secret, knowledge
with w ...
States of Poetry 2016 - South Australia | 'Alterations to the little black dress' by Jelena Dinic
A little pin-up
three fingers
above the knees.
Behind the curtain
a dress-up game –
pretty things come undone.
He chalks lines
on raw stitches.
I catwalk.
My body fits the timeless black.
'You can live in it, or die'
smile the lips full of needles.
Do I look a little dead
with black fabric
on bone-pale flesh?
States of Poetry 2016 - South Australia | 'The Silence of Siskins' by Jelena Dinic
for my grandfather
He circles my arrival
on the calendar.
It is late November
and it doesn't snow.
A wooden pallet
hardens his bed.
He dreams of grandmother.
He doesn't want new dreams.
Two siskins in cages –
their song frozen like the air
that other November
when she lost her heart
c ...
for Mia
I wore my grandmother's clothes
and sat on her doorstep.
Monday to Friday.
She talked.
I lied.
'I'll teach you how to write,' I said
pretending I could
hold a pen.
'Mouse will eat your ears,' she smiled.
At night we leaned on pillows
watched TV with subtitles.
I made up foreign words.
I tol ...
after Vasko Popa
Always ready to leave
leaving
each time further
from the whispers
of the grass.
She has forgotten
her death,
the calf she once was.
Curled around an arm
a new name sewn
into her mouth
she's been there, done that.
A tramp, living beyond
the stitches of life.
&n ...
I walk through my hometown
as an uninvited guest.
Divorced
from communism
the old street has taken back
its maiden name.
I follow the steps of a lost child
watching myself
from the curtains
of memory's windows.
The doors of St Nicholas church
are rusty but open.
Inside familiar faces
and a sign
Buy candle ...
They say morning's temper
binds you to this world
of taking. As if the air said,
all you need is to scram
or laugh. If it's real payback,
why try to earn it.
There are better things to do
with your shoes.
This is no mystery.
Movement chafes expectancy
till it hurts and hackles.
It's a pissing contest,
round that hew
the hours hand ...
Should the unique serve to typify?
Have they been ill-used? To what purpose?
Asian Couple
The Asian couple.
I am inclined to think Chinese –
mostly on the basis of size,
but not Japanese (the ...
I am history now
in the scales, the age of sounds
I make sense then drop it
it gets dirty, it breaks
the ants carry it
I am bent at the switch
my tapes of the archive
decay, loops stutter
glitch arias
I am bent at the floor
facts roll under the chair
little dust songs
or songs outside
the parrots know
and I am sti ...
