Blog
Welcome to the Busybird blog, where you can find helpful articles, updates, industry news and more. Make sure you stay up to date by signing up to our newsletter below.
On the Seventh Day pre-Christmas, this author said to me … (Mary Stone)
December 19, 2012It’s official – Christmas is still too close.
Today’s reflection is Mary Stone’s thoughts on writing her poem ‘Sticky Note’. This one got a great reception at the launch when read by the author – don’t you want to see what the fuss is all about?
I know, I’m a shameless promoter. At least I’m consistent in being shameless about admitting that.
Beau Hillier | Editor, page seventeen
***
I often pick up random bits and pieces from the ground – particularly discarded notes. I’m fascinated with both the range and delivery of their content: miffed missives between house-mates or the stuff people to buy, and the way they express and prioritise a simple shopping list. I’m also just as enthralled by their scribing methods: exquisite calligraphy (especially in another alphabet) to almost illegible scrawl.
My favourite pieces are those that are trampled on, mud spattered or tyre marked.
One day, whilst walking around aimlessly through Melbourne’s labyrinth of lost laneways, I found a screwed up sticky note that contained no content. I was mildly disappointed but it also reminded me of a recent blank text sent to me from my ex. Our breakup was fresh in my mind and my anger was still palpable at that stage. I had lunch and noted down a few random thoughts and ideas into my iPhone. One idea was to play around with the notion of a sticky note and link it to masturbation.
Upon reading my poem it might seem obvious who are the protagonist and antagonist – by virtue of pronoun placement (i.e. myself and my ex). However the roles can just as easily be reversed. Change the placement of some of the pronouns to reflect this and the finger pointing could be aimed at me. The accusative tone used could also have applied to both of us.
I loved messing with misinterpretation, since a blank note is, after all, just a blank note with no intention. Paranoia has its place when, uninvited, it plays unfair games in the Relationship Playground.
I loved writing this piece – it was wonderfully cathartic.
***
A poet and musician for several years, Mary Stone has recently delved into the spoken word arena. Mary, whose work has been described as visceral and sometimes puerile, can be seen working around Melbourne’s open-mic scene – occasionally foisting herself upon an unsuspecting audience.
On the Sixth Day pre-Christmas, this author said to me … (Bronwen Manger)
December 18, 2012Is it particularly alarming to everyone if I remind all and sundry that it’s now only a full week until Christmas? Because it’s pretty alarming to me.
If you’re short on literary stocking-stuffers, page seventeen might fit the bill if you order quick! The latest issue and selected back issues are available here.
Latest reflection from Issue #10 for our blogging good time is from Bronwen Manger, for her poem ‘Reine de Douleur’.
Beau Hillier | Editor, page seventeen
***
I wrote ‘Reine de Douleur’ (Queen of Sorrow) as a response to the 1892 poster ‘Reine de Joie’ (Queen of Joy) by Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec. For the uninitiated, this is a bright, bold poster in yellow, red, white, gold and black, which depicts a young lady passionately kissing a rather rotund older gentleman as they recline at a crockery-covered dining table, beside another dinner guest who seems studiously oblivious to their ardour. It is a zesty scene, brimming with opulence and intrigue! I penned ‘Reine de Douleur’ in an attempt to capture in words the unapologetic decadence of the poster; and also to infer the darker undercurrents of desperation that have funnelled the characters into this ‘fadeless embrace’.
Many lines of the poem are flagrantly demanding instructions, delivered from the standpoint of one who has had enough to eat and drink; yet is still unsatisfied, and at once confounded and compelled by hunger and thirst. Amidst the yearning for more; the celebration of indulgence; and the gleeful acceptance of duplicity, the poem also laments an otherwise grey, drab existence. Despite the title’s feminine leaning, it is up to the reader to decide whether ‘Reine de Douleur’ is written from the point of view of the lady, the gentleman, or both.
***
Bronwen Manger is a poet from the outer east of Melbourne. She has performed her work on television and radio, and her poems have appeared in journals, zines, anthologies and newspaper The Age. When Bronwen is not writing, she attends poetry readings around Melbourne and works as a research assistant.
On the Fifth Day pre-Christmas, this author said to me … (Christopher Konrad)
December 17, 2012Today’s reflection is from poet Christopher Konrad, on ‘Cold Play Part II’.
Beau Hillier | Editor, pageseventeen
***
Maybe sometimes an unknown feeling can be released by something outside of oneself triggering it. Maybe that was the case here with my poem ‘Coldplay Part II’ – like the idea that someone or something can fix you when in fact you feel unfixable, when in fact you’ve always felt unfixed or unfixable, that somehow you don’t just quite fit, here or there or anywhere at any time. I did not want this idea of ‘unfixability’ to come across as mawkishly maudlin or sentimental or anything like that. I did want to express the feeling though in cold light of day, and for some reason this particular version of Coldplay’s ‘Fix You’ seemed to tap into that feeling, on that day in that moment.
At that time I’d also been reading about John Clare (1793 – 1864) who was an English poet, the son of a farm labourer, who some established poets of the day made a bit of a celebrity out of. In his later years he was in and out of various asylums around Epping Forest. So the poem focuses on the ideas around ‘mad’ poets, ‘unfixable’ perhaps, and looks at the idea of madness from the perspective of a condition of life somehow imposed on certain individuals who, if they are under enough pressure, will become unwell. But, under other circumstances these individuals actually tap into thoughts and feelings not typically accessible by people who fit ‘very well’ into the world.
While not wanting to romanticise the real suffering of those who are seriously unwell, this poem attempts to look at a permanent state of feeling ‘out of kilter’ with the rest of the world. At its worst, this feeling can manifest as paranoia, in general it can feel just the way the poem describes.
***
Christopher Konrad has completed his PhD in creative writing and has had poems published with two other WA poets in a recent anthology called Sandfire (2012) and in many journals and online. He currently works with the new and emerging communities in Perth.
On the Fourth Day pre-Christmas, this author said to me … (Fran Graham)
December 16, 2012These twelve days pre-Christmas will take up right up to Christmas Eve. Don’t forget that an issue of page seventeen might make a cool gift for any bookworm, so order fast!
Next up in the reflections we have Fran Graham, on her poem ‘Two Balinese Flies’.
Beau Hillier | Editor, pageseventeen
***
This is a simple telling of something that actually happened one morning at breakfast in Bali. While playing cards in our room later that day I wrote down the first two lines of the poem and instantly imagined calling it ‘Two Balinese Flies’ which amused me, even though it is my policy never to use words from a poem for the title, but these two particular flies were unsung heroes and deserved to be the title.
I finished the poem when I arrived back in Australia and was really pleased that I had managed to produce exactly the tone I was looking for. I originally wrote it in one continuous loose-lined piece, but later decided to accentuate the irony by adopting the more formal shape of four very serious-looking quatrains.
I love and appreciate the generosity of spirit of the Balinese people and perhaps, in a funny sort of way, I was translating my affection and respect for them into an elegy for these two unusual creatures who I imagined were attracted by the bright orange colour of the juice and had no idea their dip in the ‘tangerine sea’ was a kamikaze dive. Faye, of course, was unable to finish her orange juice but the poor old flies, while happily finishing their swim and perhaps enjoying respite from the heat, seemed oblivious of just how finished they actually were.
***
Fran Graham is a Western Australian poet and has hard work in Poextrix, FourW and Famous Reporter. Her first collection, On a Hook Behind the Door, was published in 2011 by Ginninderra Press.
On the Third Day pre-Christmas, this author said to me … (Erol Engin)
December 15, 2012Here’s a reflection that you won’t find in page seventeen #10 – this is Erol Engin on ‘The Sea Monkeys’, the winner of our 2012 Short Story Competition.
Beau Hillier | Editor, pageseventeen
***
‘The Sea Monkeys’ story is nearly a true story. Like the character Osmond, I bought a Sea Monkeys kit for my young son, but really, it was for me – or rather, my childhood self. I’d never had one, never knew anyone who had one, and was never allowed to have one as a kid. So I used to gaze longingly at the enticing ads for Sea Monkeys that were always buried in the back pages of my favourite comic books, and would wonder what it would be like to have my very own kit. When I came across a pack in an Australian Geographic store last year, I just had to get it.
I’m embarrassed to tell you that, again like Osmond in the story, I was more excited – way more excited – than my son was to have a kit. And like Osmond, I was similarly disappointed, hurt even, when it became clear that no one in my family seemed to share my enthusiasm. In fact, I think my wife and son though that I’d gone a little batty (or is fishy more appropriate here?).
In the end, I decided that the whole Sea Monkeys fiasco might make a decent, funny story. I would use my own experiences to portray an aging character who badly wants to connect with his family, but fails. At the same time, there seemed to be room to work in other ideas about faith, atheism and technology.
There is one aspect of the story, however, that is not based on my personal experience. Unlike me, Osmond never quite gives up on the Sea Monkeys.
I hope that readers find something reassuring in that.
***
Erol Engin lives with his wife and son and writes in Newcastle, NSW.