Melinda Smith
Borderless: A transnational anthology of feminist poetry edited by Saba Vasefi, Melinda Smith, and Yvette Holt
Melinda Smith reads her poems ‘Some trees’ and ‘The undiscovered country’for ABR's ACT States of Poetry anthology.
States of Poetry 2017 - ACT | 'What you get when you search for silence' by Melinda Smith
What you get when you search for silence
(poem composed of Hansard search results from November 1962)
one of his colleagues has gone into a significant silence
to silence us, but this is having no effect
listen in silence
spoken and heard in silence
the Prime Minister has observed an unusual silence on this matter. There was an old Australian ...
Hammam
(translated from a Persian ghazal by Rabi’a Balkhi)
I am back, locked up in this love again,
all my daring escapes end here.
Love is a broad shoreless sea
tell me, o wise ones, who swims it and lives?
To take love all the way
you must embrace every horror;
adore ugliness like a fair face;
make sweet delight of poiso ...
some trees
spotted gum
tall classy lady
cradling a listing turpentine
(shaggy old top-heavy
barrel-chested nuisance)
she props him
takes the strain
holds her own line almost true
that’s what you get
when you get
married in a windstorm
but the wind always changes
strands you in strange attitudes
let him slid ...
The colour of eyes
For Banduk Marika, Aboriginal artist
1. After your story of the funeral, August 1991
Black, Banduk, is the colour of eyes
like night shrunk
when grandma tidies after grief.
Perhaps she could not spill
to stain the room.
Black, Banduk,
this quaver fisted
in her throat –
it has no moon,
it ache ...
After the Grand Canyon
18 October 2014
It’s an accident
of composition: sun, sky, bird.
White orb on storm grey
punctuated by a raven –
but which composes which,
and which is accidental?
Is it the sun
a hole
sucking in a bird,
or Icarus about
to singe the sun?
Against the grey
both soft and ...
The Undiscovered Country
tears itself from its own body
Minos condemns it to the seventh abyss.
wherever Fortune casts it, and there
it germinates, like a dropped grain of spelt.
...
The leaves here are not green, ...
After Reming
Super typhoon 2006
‘Purple.
Unlike any that I’ve seen,’
Mother says.
‘Behind an iron gate
beside an immense hole
on the ground,
but no house.’
She pauses,
and I’m suddenly
beside the purple
behind the gate
in the hole
in the house,
led by the definite article,
thus defini ...