POETRY

My Grandmother’s Garden and other poems

T BANKS-VITTINI

There was nothing I could do
watching Mary die. Beside her
I remained as quiet as the flowers
on the mantel, more useless
than my mother’s prayers.

Sometimes she comes
to visit. Once
a mantis perched gently
on the headboard
above me in the early

  • Government Rice and other poems

    RADHA JYOTI NUR

    Polymer sacks of government rice.
    Father says, No rice, no meal.
    Sacks stacked star-wards
    & lit on fire in a warehouse
    doored by uniforms.

  • Lyrical Musing and other poems

    JEROME MASAMAKA


    Wet words
    dripping
    like
    clots of
    hot blood

    on this dirty
    page…
    Mouldy thoughts

    oozing out

  • Lidgeun

    CINDY SOLONEC

    I am from the history that is hidden
    Of stories long lost, that are being resurrected
    For all Australians to savour
    Of living in the bush
    On a small station, waiting for visitors

  • Rungutjirpa

    GLEN HUNTING

    Evening, and the cleft
    in the range draws air
    from russet plains,
    to comb the walls, ruffle
    the water beneath them.

  • A Selective History of Horses and Winter Solstice in the Tropics

    CHRYSTAL HO

    The first horse I remember seeing was beheaded. After referring to a hand-me-down Chinese manuscript book, Mother became so perplexed by how the shape of a horse could become this altered

  • Enlightened beings of pāramī perfections

    KO KO THETT

    With dāna, giving of the self,
    khanti, endurance, and
    upekkhā, equanimity,
    they have arrived at some place,
    way beyond my grasp.

FROM THE VAULT

  • Self-colonialism

    LUOYANG CHEN

    Apply
    me like you apply theory

    Trample
    me like you trample other ways of being

    Annul
    me like you annul laws

    Modify
    me like you modify language

    Commodify
    me like you commodify culture

  • Queer Poetry: Engenderings, Endangerings

    ADITI ANGIRAS & AKHIL KATYAL

    Akhil Katyal: Can queer poetry be easily co-opted by those in power, effectively endangering its ‘queerness’, i.e. its capacity to be ‘odd’, to run against the grain of the social?
    Aditi Angiras: It would no longer be queer and no longer be poetry, it would then just be propaganda. Queerness and poetry are slippery and free-flowing, like water swimming past your fingers whenever you try to hold it in a fist.

  • Walking on ice

    ISABELLA MOTADINYANE

    When the house
    thronged
    with people
    silence
    aware of his presence
    i read his words
    from the thin
    of his lips
    “this poem is ‘bout to start”
    walking on ice
    he had a mind
    to let go
    but watched time
    the unblinking eye

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