Two Canticles by Colleen Keating published in Rochford Street Journal Issue 40 2024

Rochford Street Review

Issue 40.  2024:2

   

Two Canticles

At a cottage by the sea I tackle Francis Webb, curious about

his poetry from Cap and Bells. Outside a wild spring ocean’s

curled waves tussle on the tide, comb to the edge, like spoonbills

probing every squint of sand and wrack. The horizon

 

is drawn-in, appropriate for this day in this ruptured world.

The sun finds thin spots to break through clouds, blades the sea

with thousands of stars and as quickly is blocked. In his poems

Francis tools words in obscurity and I must wait for the rare 

 

glimmer to shine through, to touch their thousand stars before

they meld into his shadowed world. With torch and compass

I grope through the labours of Hospital Night and wait in the

dark for the sound of winged ones in the swaddled air of his

 

suite Ward Two. I once met a Benedictine nun who knew 

Francis Webb, as an escapee from Parramatta Mental Hospital.

He knocked at her convent back door. Frail, lost, clutching

a book of poetry. Eyes eminently human, beaconed his ragged

 

struggle. His voice garbled: I am not seeking money or food 

but peace. He scribbled out for her his poem Five Days Old.

Then a lonely, derelict figure slouched out the gate. His words

frisk the heroic-journey, explorers’ struggle, like one who holds

 

a shell, turns it over and over for light, shots of colour, as he

tackles the one-journey common to us all. His poems of 

The Canticle echo another Francis who wrote Il Cantico, 

who praised glimpses of brother sun  and sister moon through

 

tender, frayed clouds, who walked barefoot, high-walled Assisi: 

its olive groves, vineyards, lanes, paths of cobbled stone, 

searching too for peace. Falling on his knees, face in his hands

he humbly made himself its instrument, finding the meaning 

 

only in the search. He threw off worldly garb, gold and plumes

donned a court jester’s cap and bells, reverberating touch of 

birdsong his bedrock. Through a darkling glass are two canticles

hundreds of years apart. Each Francis dances on fear’s altar. Both 

 

be fools, taunted, for gnawing life to the bone. Both seeing beauty

in the tiny not the immense. Outside, flocks of sea gulls skim 

the southerly, skate on the edge. I listen to their skirl on the air, 

wayfarers, like the ocean in its unceasing quest. 

Colleen Keating

Winner of the Phillipa Holland Poetry 2024 with Eastwood/Hills FAW (Fellowship of Australian Writers)

———————————–

Colleen Keating is a Sydney poet. Her writing explores the wonder and paradox of nature with the harsh realities of life, justice, equality and the increasing threat to our natural environment. Her poem, Fifth Symphony was recently awarded Highly commended in the Poetic Christi Press poetry competition and published in the new Anthology A New Day Dawns 2024. Colleen has published six collections of poetry, including two award-winning verse novels, Hildegard of Bingen: A poetic journey and Olive Muriel Pink: her radical & idealistic life. Her newly published book is The Dinner Party: A poetic reflection. (2023) All are available through Ginninderra Press. Colleen writes on Ku-ring-gai land in Sydney and Darkinjung on the Central Coast NSW.

Also welcomed to be published by Michael Griffith.author of Cap and Bells

Michael Griffith’s Official Literature Site

 

November 7, 2024 at 11:47 am

Hello Colleen, I love this poem! It captures so much of the essence of Francis Webb’s passion and the direction of his own search. In terms of our current poetry sessions – Poetry’s Job- I feel this is a perfect poem for illustrating how poetry here (your poetry and the poetry of the poet you celebrate) give voice to the quest for wholeness in a difficult, tumultous world. Your own beautiful observations of nature carry me back to what we were saying just yesterday about Jane Hirschfield’s recognition that the real source of nourishment for her own search is the immediate:

Can admire with two eyes the mountain

actual, recalcitrant, shuffling its pebbles, sheltering foxes and beetles.

Can make black-eyed peas and collards.

Can make, from last year’s late-ripening persimmons, a pudding.

Thank you Colleen!

Eucalypt Issue 37 2024 ed. Julie Thorndyke

 

 

Thank you to the editor Julie Thorndyke for an exquisite production of the latest Eucalypt .

I can always feel the love and care in the selection and  placement  of  the tanka on the page

which of cousre enriches each one tanka.

Your work is appreciated. 

I am proud to be included with so many fine Tanka writers and  sensitive work  in this latest issue. 

 

 

     

 the wet sand

of the ebbing tide

reflects a pink dawn

my bare feet encounter

the first touch of spring

Colleen Keating

Thrilled to see Pip Griffin and Dr Andy Hede as two of my Tanka friends included in the latest Eucalypt

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another favourite of my tanka

pink glow

behind silver grey clouds

waiting

medical reports

still to be read

Colleen Keating

 

 

The Launch of the new poetry collection, Natural Light by David Atkinson :

 

Sunday afternoon, 1st December 2024  was a celebratory afternoon for the launch of David Atkinson’s new poetry collection Natural Light . We gathered at Hannah’s Bar in Beecroft. The gathering included family, many friends  and poets from the U3A Poetry Appreciation Group, from the Pennant Hills Poetry Group  and many  other interested poetic friends . As MC i welcomed everyone and introduced  the teacher and poet Richard Clark who launched  Natural Light. In his launching speech, Richard  described some of the  poetic techniques  and read poems to show these.  It was an interesting speech and  he gave some very expressive readings of David’s poetry.  David read some of his poetry and thanked all those who have supported him on his journey.  And then we enjoyed refreshments and had a great chat all together .

 

     

Run Sheet for David’s Natural Light

  1. Good afternoon everyone.      My name is Colleen Keating and i am a poet and a writing friend of David..     Welcome everyone. It is good to be here together  for this celebration . and what a wonderful gathering  we are.    The bringing  forward of a book is a long journey and worth celebrating and  your presence is an honour to David  and to poetry. 
  2. We will just take a moment to gather ourselves and i ‘d like  to acknowledge  the traditional owners of the land on which we meet today , the Wallumedegal people of the Eora nation and pay respects to the first story tellers and  to the elders past, present and emerging.
  1. (a)Housekeeping – there is a bathroom directly across the courtyard but only one there. There are more bathrooms down the stairs and inside the centre or, alternatively, down one level via the lift.  Please just look around and check if anybody needs a seat if you can stand.
  2. (b)Order of events  I will introduce Richard Clarke. who will launch David’s new book . Richard will speak and read a few selected poems of  David’s 
  3. (c)Then David  as poet will speak and share some of his  poems.  At the end of the formal part we will  spread out and wait a few minutes for refreshments to be organised  And we can catch up with friends and celebrate this special occasion . The books will then be on sale for 25 dollars and David will be outside very happy to sign it.  We are all in for a treat. 

3. “It is now my pleasure to introduce Richard Clarke to launch David’s book. Richard says he was fortunate to have been born to literature-loving parents and to have married an avid reader, and since retirement to have been invited by David to join both the U3A poetry appreciation group hosted by Wendy Walker in Eastwood ,of which  many of that group are here today and the poetry writers’ group convened by David himself in Pennant Hills. And most of us are here to celebrate with  David.  Richard was an English teacher for forty years, He enjoyed nothing better than exploring great poems with his classes and imploring the students to write their own.Often in our groups we defer to Richard as he is an encyclopaedia of knowledge on poets, their background history, and grammar in general..  Now that he is writing his own poetry Richard says he is beginning to understand why many of his students found it difficult to turn theory into practice. But Richard powers ahead with his own writing. I remember when he had his first poem published  and we were very excited and  now in a short time his poems have been published in three countries. so we call him now an Internationally published poet.    Please welcome Richard.”

 superb Fairy wrens pg 47

4. Thank you Richard and now please welcome David to tell you about his  poetic journey and read you some of his selected poems.

5. Thank you David . 

6. That concludes the formal part of the afternoon. Please relax now and spread outside and buy a book. It will take  5 minutes  or so  while drinks and afternoon tea are set out.                                                                  

Poems to be read, or referred to, by Richard

Villanelle of the Drought (p.127)

Assembly Machinations (p.53)

Sonnet of the Fire (p.29)

Searching the Storm (p.48)

Adrift in the Desert (p.108)

The Ambivalence of Organisms (p.56)

The Challenge of Algebra (p.69)

Of Owl and Eeyore (p.128)

Poems to be read by David

The Old Hume (p.3)

From Impermanence (p.59)

Wedge-tailed Eagle (p.43)

Verandah (p.9)

The Buoyancy of Butterflies (87)

Review  by Colleen Keating 

    of 

Natural Light by David Atkinson 

With an acute lyrical touch and an unerring ability to evoke sights, sounds and sensations,  David’s poems reveal new depths upon every rereading.” These affirming words by Richard Clark who recently launched ‘Natural Light’, come from an appreciation of the rich use of imagery, and the way in which the poet, speaks to his reading audience . 

This new book is David Atkinson’s third published poetry collection after ‘The Ablation of Time’ (202  and ‘Strands and Ripples’, (202  ) both published by Ginninderra Press.  David grew up in the Riverina  and knowing this  the reader can appreciate more  the way he pays reverent attention to the landscape, the birds, the sheds, tools, country roads and road kill and the Hume’s long distance journey to connect with the city. 

‘Natural Light’ is a striking book, full of remarkable pictures  capturing the human condition and the natural world.  An example of this where memory gives us movement  is from ‘Whipcord’,

Transfixed, we swerve in aversion, wary and watchful,

as the brute, terror of the imagination,

topic of tales, slithers away. 

Piques a flashback to that folio of boyhood fears;

an eastern brown slides through a dream.

The Holden accelerates, the small boy braces,

steeled like a vehicular strut, then the weight 

of the work boot, as breaks squeal

in a controlled skid through the writhing backbone.  

There are poems where David has set himself a task of research of a subject and then works it into a poem.  How he enjoys the challenge of different forms of poetry.  You can see him working out his poetry to put together a collection of his work that shows variety of subject and form and falling back into the things he loves and is most comfortable with. Hence we are gifted with a book of poetry that surprises wherever you open its pages.

The poems are arranged into six sections:   In the first section titled The Scaffold of Time  there are moments of reminiscing. One example of this is on a breathless country night as a child, sleeping on the verandah with his family he remembers,

in the open we are kneaded into nature. 

The night breathes a soft–hued concerto, 

         the wildlife variations.’

and 

Beyond the strands of ringbarked trees

the muted moon rises

and the stars are glow worms

over the riverine flats.

In ‘Bow Wave’  how wonderful to watch the way the poet shifts us from the country’s hard hot days of washing day to pondering a dream Manly holiday with memory of his mother,

In the freestanding washhouse she launders

the clothes, her farmer husband’s khakis,

reek of the shearing shed and the killing tree.

After igniting the copper, boils the garments

and bed linen; the spit of split kindling,

the flames prancing in the grate. 

And  then as reader we feel the cool ocean breeze with her dream

the South Steyne churning its bow wave 

slamming the subservient wharf.

even as

Her neck sallow, not yet seared swarthy

by the sun, she groans, heaves the bedsheets,

feeds them into the clothes wringer,

hand-operated, the water squeezed down

flowing, gurgling into the drain.

This scene is part of my own memory of helping my mother and grandmother but I wonder what the next generation will picture here.  However it is important for it to be remembered. 

In the poem ‘Generations of Ritual’, the imagery shows how the fates have determined the change and similarity in lives with the colourful phases,

The pungency of lucerne hay, 

the prickle of the fleece’s burrs. 

the taste of the moonrise frost

solo star in the top paddock,

 In the section, ‘Unswept Wings’  there are many gems including the prize winning poem ‘Gang Gang’,

When you sweep in, deep wing beats,

you skim along the runaway of azalea blooms.

In an ambience of apricity, I observe

your free flight through the bush reserve; 

I know why this time you alight alone.

I watch your actor’s bow to the water,

curved beak leading to its cere,

eye staring off across your canopied 

territory of eucalypts;

The award-winning poem, ‘Wedge-tailed Eagle 

takes us deeper,

In a rhythm of etiolated recall my spirit

aches for the passing of the years.

The fundamentals seem to have been recast,

a perception of having taken

a long journey to the interior. 

The moment to expore the season

with Vivaldi, to grasp the assertion,

the fretwork of the river red gum.

At last the opportunity but I am ageing

and my soul yearns for peace.

Time is transient and pitiless;

I must seek out the resting ripple

of the remote and elusive platypus

in the headwaters of the Coxs River

and turn back to accompany you

on your buoyant ascent.  

In the section ‘Anchored’,  one poem  The Challenge of Algebra’ stands out for its thoughtful attention to our wider broken world with the last two tercets,

Faith is a trait which cannot

be contained; it bubbles

and spurts like water

from an underground spring, 

from a young maths student pinned

under the earth of Mariupol

Further sections are  ‘The Ochre of Dawn’, ‘Light on the Breeze’, 

and in the last section titled ‘Interwoven’ 

I especially appreciate Villanelle of the Drought  with 

‘the yawl of callous crows; he dreads their shriek

alighting on a victim in the glare.

The stricken ewe has slumped, half-starved and weak

As Richard Clark commented in his launch Atkinson is a master of enjambement and I was interested to spend some time observing his skilful working of this technique  and how it draws the reader in.  I say this because I  especially relate to his portrayed country world of the 50’s with the droughts and struggles, having spent my childhood in the country albeit a different direction The New England Tablelands. 

It is an interesting journey to see how the poet comes to terms with his memories and the sense of struggle. He accepts the learnings especially from the birds , their lightness of being and so opening the perspective of being untethered and free. and how he comes to the finality with family that brings him home. 

‘Natural Light’ is a worthy collection, full of surprises, poems like gems, some of them have their beauty in the natural light alone,. Others to be given attention, given a bit of spittle,  polished, held, contemplating their translucent beauty. Their show of luminance which as poems here  illuminates the way.   

 

 

David Atkinson’s recent poems, brought together in this latest volume of his work, offer many worthwhile insights on the human condition and the natural world. These broad themes are longstanding interests of David’s – as well as his fascination with birds in their environment and the delights and challenges stemming from those we know best, our families.  – Graham Wood

In this,  David Atkinson’s third collection , his poetry explores the complexities of the human condition, the delights of our flora and fauna, the lost charms of the rural world he knew as a child and the rewards and challenges of family life. With an acute lyrical touch and an unerring ability to evoke sights, sounds and sensations. David’s poems reveal new depths upon every rereading. His poems have achieved success in numerous competitions and have beed published widely in Australia , the USA and the UK – Richard Clark

Launch of the new poetry collection The Book of Jerimiah by Beatriz Copello

   

What an energising and vibrant launch we attended last week. Beatriz Copello’s new peotry collection

The Book of jeremiah is a powerful book for our times.  There was a great crowd at the newly renovated Gleebooks

and it was a wonderful evening of poetry, reflection wine friendship , lots of chatter with poet friends and laughter.

Thank you Beatriz and Gleebooks for a lovely poetry evening.

 

   

 

A Sensory Journey: Haku Down Under Anthology 2024 ed. Carole Harrison and Sue Courney

I am very proud and happy to be included in the beautiful new anthology,  A Sensory Journey, Haiku Down Under Anthology with my haiku.  Thank you to the editors Carole Harrison and Sue Courtney for the beautiful presentation.  

holiday cottage

under a sickle moon

a lone dingo howls

Colleen Keating

 

 

This photo is the nearest I can find to describe my experience except I was alone in the country holiday cottage for the week ( my choice to write) and it was a dark night hence a small cresent moon only and the dingos howled and howled and I thught a pack was just up on a hill nearby.. It did scare me a little at the time but I have read since  that there is nothing to be afraid of as the howling is for a mate. And they don’t come for humans that are not trying to corner them in some way so I tried to show  apprehension in the haiku. I hope it works  that the reader is not sure!!!

Dunera Boys – exhibition at the State Library of NSW after a visit by Colleen Keating

 

 

The Dunera Boys

Although born and educated in Australia and a valued dairy farmer in the Bega Valley on the Far Such Coast  of NSW my uncle Augustine Behl, a young man in his early thirties  was detained at the beginning of World War 2 ,  as he was of German dissent.  He was declared an alien in his own homeland . However not  rounded up and imprisoned with hundreds of other men because he was essential for the food production line as a daily farmer.  Rarely did he come into town . Tuesdays my aunt and two cousins came in for shopping and came to Nannas where we stayed in the Christmas holidays.

When he was in town, it was to sell and buy at the Sale Yards. However I am not sure if he was forbidden in town socially or if he chose not to come in.  He was a very silent man and spoke few words to anyone.

It was at his property that I heard my first classical record and saw a record playing. It was Mario Lanser singing The Student Prince and I was blown away. His parents had brought the music from their homeland. and at the time it was the most beautiful thing I had ever heard. In a way I kept looking up, thinking it was coming from heaven.

Hence my interest in the story of the Dunera Boys  a very interesting exhibition, curated by Louise Anemaat, Seumas Spark and andrew Trigg presently at the NSW State Library. 

 The Dunera Boys  

They have become know as  the Dunera Boys they sailed to Australia on the Dunera. 

The story goes that when Winston Churchill came to power in Britain in May 1940, one of the first decisions of his government was to arrest, intern and ultimately deport thousands of ‘enemy aliens’ to Canada and Australia for fear that they might secretly help to orchestrate an invasion of Britain. On 10 July 1940, the British troop ship HMT Dunera departed Liverpool, Britain, with about 2120 male ‘enemy aliens’ on board. Many of the internees were Jewish and had fled to Britain as refugees from Hitler’s regime. Others had been there for years and had made their lives there. Though the Dunera internees did not know it when they left England, they were destined for Australia.

 

In powerful artworks, internees convey the experience of internment rather than the reality of its lived experience. In this artwork by Georg Teltscher, ghostly hands seem to be disappearing in an unsettled ocean, or rising up from a foaming landscape.

Conditions on the Dunera were dire. 

The ship was grossly overcrowded,

men crammed into appalling quarters.

Toilets overflowed, poisoned the stale air. 

British soldiers guarding the boys

treated their charges with brutality, 

abusing them 

stealing their possessions. 

Throwing their bags overboard

The Dunera docked in Sydney 

The internees, herded on to trains 

ended in the remote, rural town of Hay.

In drought, everywhere was dry 

flat and full of dust. 

Relentless heat and swarms of flies 

added to the internees’ sense of dislocation. 

So unfamiliar was the landscape to European eyes

that many labelled the Hay plains a ‘desert’. 

To try and make sense of the world 

and their place in it they created friendships, 

schools of learning , 

different classes were set up

they educated each other.

Drawing and art were lessons  that endured

and is much of our evidence today.

Music played a big part . 

The people of Hay rounded up musical instruments. 

Today for us this is a reminder that coping 

and surviving is about intellectual engagement 

with place almost as much as it is about physical needs.

Art has long been an outlet to communicate when seeking to understand and give voice to what is not easily put into words. It reminds us that forced displacement is both a historic and a contemporary story, whether the result of war genocide, natural disaster, colonisation, whether on racial, ethic, political or religious grounds or increasingly because of climate change.