Archive for the ‘Les Murray’ Tag

The Meaning of Existence   Leave a comment

Alamos Trip_2016 01 24_1065-Edit-4-art-72Sea of Cortez — Photo-Artistry by kenne

The Meaning of Existence

Everything except language
knows the meaning of existence. 
Trees, planets, rivers, time
know nothing else. They express it 
moment by moment as the universe.

Even this fool of a body
lives it in part, and would 
have full dignity within it 
but for the ignorant freedom 
of my talking mind.

— Les Murray

Raven — The Town Cryer   Leave a comment

Raven-Art-blog“The Town Cryer” — Photo-Artistry by kenne

Poetry is read by the lovers of poetry
and heard by some move they coax to the cafe
or the district library for a bifocal reading.
Lovers of poetry may total a million people
on the whole planet. Fewer than the players of skat.

— from “The Instrument” by Les Murray

Queen Butterfly   Leave a comment

butterflies-half-moon-8825-blog IIQueen Butterfly — Image by kenne

Queen Butterfly

In his frenzy to use
what I am to refuse
from a belly-puff he strews
fine power on my joins
which, filtering inside, coins
a splendor more eye-bugged than the three
deaths I have died had ever given me:
sweller than digestion, flitter than wings
or witting as selves all glitterings
in the coloured perfumes of panoply –
while the liquid rings
he is threading bend
his body at my breeding end.

— Les Murray

Coulter Hibiscus Wildflower   Leave a comment

Hibicus (1 of 1) grunge art blogCoulter Hibiscus Wildflower (September 4, 2015) — Grunge Art by kenne

As the kleenex flower, the hibiscus

drops its browning wads, we forget

annually, as one forgets a sickness.

— from “A Retrospect of Humidity” by Les Murray

Who Reads Poetry?   4 comments

To Make Soft II 05-22-14 blog“Who Reads Poetry/” — Image by kenne

 

Who reads poetry? Not our intellectuals:
they want to control it. Not lovers, not the combative,
not examinees. They too skim it for bouquets
and magic trump cards. Not poor schoolkids
furtively farting as they get immunized against it.

Poetry is read by the lovers of poetry
and heard by some more they coax to the cafe
or the district library for a bifocal reading.
Lovers of poetry may total a million people
on the whole planet. Fewer than the players of skat.

What gives them delight is a never-murderous skim
distilled, to verse mainly, and suspended in rapt
calm on the surface of paper. The rest of poetry
to which this was once integral still rules
the continents, as it always did. But on condition now

that its true name is never spoken. This feral poetry,
the opposite but also the secret of the rational,
who reads that? Ah, the lovers, the schoolkids, 
debaters, generals, crime-lords, everybody reads it:
Porsche, lift-off, Gaia, Cool, patriarchy.

— from the poem, “THE INSTRUMENT” by Les Murray

DoubleTake, Fall, 1999

Say Good Morning To The Queen   2 comments

Butterflies & Half-Moon-8825 blog

Butterflies & Half-Moon-8817 blogQueen Butterfly (Danaus gilippus) — Images by kenne

Queen Butterfly

In his frenzy to use
what I am to refuse
from a belly-puff he strews
fine power on my joins
which, filtering inside, coins
a splendor more eye-bugged than the three
deaths I have died had ever given me:
sweller than digestion, flitter than wings
or witting as selves all glitterings
in the coloured perfumes of panoply –
while the liquid rings
he is threading bend
his body at my breeding end.

Les Murray

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