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This too is life

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This poem captures the troubled reality for many couples trying to conceive today. The power of this poem hinges on what is not said. The poem simply embraces the getting on with reproduction business. But the final line speaks a truth all intending parents need to read.

If only the couple

desperate for a child,

their bedside a litter

of centimetre squares,

a silver-veined stamen

schlucked under her tonguesad couple

before the cock

can crow each day,

slow seep of albumen

from the cracked purse

of her eggs

precipitating

the sloughing off

of jeans and knickers

and sudden drop

to coitus don’t interruptus

anywhere

anytime,

and immediate hoick

of hips overhead

(isn’t it lucky

it’s not salmon

she’s nurturing?)

 

could take their eyes

off the prize

and laugh. 

Louise Nicholas

Louise Nicholas is an Adelaide poet. She has been widely published and she is active in many poetry groups including Friendly Street Poets.  

womanspeak140px

Louise recently co-authored a poetry book with Jude Aquilina titled:

Woman Speak published by Wakefield Press. Copies can be purchased through the publisher’s website:  #mce_temp_url#.

B&w pic : webpub on flickr

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Ivy lives next door to Poempig. She had leukemia. She came to our house one day while she was undergoing chemo ahead of a bone marrow transplant for Leukemia. She had bald patches. She was bloated. She had the chemo plugs hanging out her back. She had shingles. Her medicine made her feel sick. She was 4 years old.

We wanted to do something for Ivy  but what? Poempig is a writer and my daughter, Georgina, is an artist. So we made this book for Ivy.

If you know any kid who is under going chemo please download this book and give it to them. Kids think it is funny. And let parents know today Ivy is a bright and giggly fairy hopping all around the house.
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This short poem by Joyce Freedman starts as a rollicking read.Joyce Freedman But the strain on the tangled threads of family relationships builds then snaps. It is a powerful poem. Poempig thinks every teenager who has been relentlessly criticised by their father should read this poem.  It frees the spirit and therefore belongs in the class of Jailbreak Prose. 

 

 

1.

My father said, in my teenage years 
My finest feature was tiny ears.

My spirit soared; I didn’t know 
Everyone’s ears continue to grow.

He thought I’d be a tad more neat B & w child
If less of me comprised my feet.

My eyes, he thought, were commonplace 
Much better, though, than my acned face.

2.

My ears are huge, my feet are spread 
My eyes are weak—and my father’s dead.

 

Joyce Freedman

 

 

This poem first appeared in Quadrant Magazine: #mce_temp_url# 

 

Clip Pic Amy Heague:  #mce_temp_url#

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Many claim that rockstars are the new age poets. Some are, of course. But some aren’t. One rock star who has goneout of his way to prove he is NOT a poet is Bobono Correctionno. If Elvis wasn’t dead already I suspect this poem published in The Australian ( 7/5/09) would finish him off. 

 

bono

 

 

 

 

 

elvis

body could not stop moving

elvis

is alive, we’re dead

elvis

the elastic

 

 

 

elvis

 

 

 

the plastic

 

 

 

 

 

 

with a spastic dance that might explain the energy of america        

 

 

 

 

Maybe it needs music or maybe you need to read this poem through rose coloured glasses!!!  On the other hand,you have to wonder at the power of celebrityhood. Ahhh, Bono appears to be suggesting that all Americans are spastic? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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On Tuesday 12th May, 2009 a POETRY JAM was held at the White House. Poets everywhere should feel a sense of renewal in the President’s comments.

We’re here to celebrate the power of words,” President Obama said. Words “help us appreciate beauty and also understand pain. They inspire us to action.”

 It is not just that poets got a foot in the door of the White House that is cause to wax lyrical and/or metaphorical. It is the nature of the readings. This poetry involves full-on in-your-face, raw, extreme, clear , precise, emotional, king-hitting, attention-grabbing performance. It’s youthful. It’s out there and it’s the snort-of-cocaine poetry needed kicking in it’s veins. My greatest complaint about so many contemporary poets is that their readings sound simpering and half-dead, apologetic even. These performances, however, are confident and brash. They’re how it should be done.

Mayda Del Valle read her poem “A Faith Like Yours“. Here is an extract: 

my tongue a broken needle scratching through the grooves of lost wisdom mayda
trying to find a faith that beats like yours
what secrets do your bones hold?

Full Lyrics to “A faith Like Yours” @ Chicago Tribune : #mce_temp_url#

Photo from Mayda Del Valle website: #mce_temp_url# 

Here is Mayda Del Valle performing another of her poems, ‘To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before”

#mce_temp_url#

Go Mayda!!!!!!!

Other poets at the event were finalist’s in the HBO Brave New Voices Youth Poetry contest. 

Jamaica Osorio

Here she is performing her poem “1893 “on the HBO website: #mce_temp_url#   jamaica

 

 

‘On January  17th   1893 a city was buried in tears’                                                                                                                                                                                                              

The other poet featured was 19 year old Josh Bennett. 

From ‘Carbon Copy’:

‘The undeniable truth remains that

I’m a carbon copy of my pappy

exactly five feet ten

mahogany brown eyes

a hundred and seventy pounds soaking wet

and not a muscle in sight’

Here he is on the HBO Website performing his poem ‘Carbon Copy’ IN HIS LOUNGE ROOM with the fridge in the background.  #mce_temp_url#    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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