Skip to main content

The drift of the invisible poem

 

The drift of the invisible poem

 

Some people have spoken of the invisible poem

The soul or spirit of the work

That which moves beneath the surface

The resonances which come to the listener

Much much later

As sending a listener through a portal

Country poems are slow

As the Indigenous say

Requiring ‘Deep Listening’

Not acquisitional question-&-answer fast knowledge

That as Kev Carmody says is

“the aridity of human objectivity”

Much pop culture

Is rootless & placeless

It’s surface based

Aiming at quick impact

Quick uptake

Which generally fades quickly

Fads

Having moved back to the city

From the country

One becomes aware of how

Self important poems here are

& how melodramatic & self aggrandising

The affairs of people are taken to be

In nature, the bucolic lives

& one is humbled before it

One realizes

As Max Sometimes says

That we are merely “food for the trees”

A kind of fungus flower

Through echoes & resonances

That are organic & selfless

Thus we may enter portals through time

The Infinite/Intimate life-attuned

Such is the drift of the invisible poem

Pre-Spring is here

Mid to late July this year

How do we know this?:

A)  The wattle is out                               &

B)  The birds are singing their spring songs with fresh feathers, the noisy mynah birds living up to their name as they defend their new born hatchings against predators & the encroachment of man

 

 

Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.

 

 

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

“I didn’t know!”

  “I didn’t know!”   Don’t get me wrong In a Two Party preferred system  I have no choice but to give preferences to Labor The Coalition are scum But Jacinta Allen, Victorian Premier Claimed in a Truth Telling Commission that she never knew about massacres Of Indigenous people in the state She’d never looked up The history of her country The history of the state she leads She’s Premier! She leads a department that ‘manages Indigenous affairs’ We are currently in the process of negotiating a Treaty What did she think happened to all the Aboriginal people?! They went up to live up the Magic Faraway Tree? “No one told me!” No one ever told me either I fuckin researched It was really easy Took 10 minutes There’s this new thing called the Internet & you search stuff up Like History A subject no longer taught in many schools past year 7 I deduced a lot from observing the place & how allergic we are of looking at ourselves ...
2 comments
Read more

‘The Garden of Love’

  ‘The Garden of Love’ (after William Blake)   Some young punk Tryin to be ‘hard’ Pussyole! with his mate Said “no flowers!” I was holding some wildflowers To put in my vase at the apartment I asked him “why not?” He said nothing That’s right keep walking bish! To bloodclot! I don’t walk around defensive So I’m not quick to attack I’d rather they think about it themselves ‘Without flowers there is no life’ He dreams Try that on for size ‘You say “no!” to flowers & you say “no!” to life’ Echoed on the wind 'You can’t eat money!' Unity & Devision He hears across the wires 'Not that way!... ... why have you forsaken us?' He feels the ancestors   & again I am reminded of Blake’s ‘The Garden of Love’*   Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.   * The Garden of Love By  William Blake I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, W...
Post a Comment
Read more

Though it made me a poet

Though it made me a poet   This is a superior microwave to the last if  everything has to be a competition I guess it does! In the Kafkaesque vortex Where one is trying merely to ask a question Instead one is sold something I’m monastic or have acute anxiety Anxiety is pretty cute Like a decapitated bleeding brain Covered in snails turned carnivore By the wrack & ruin of a child’s innocence The fist in the sister’s face The knife in the wall Did I imagine the latter, dream it or see it? Who threw it? Must have been the bowie Still life goes on So I went to school the next morning & got my mouth taped up For being a chatterbox Such is the life of a privileged 5 year old It made me a poet     Published & Copyright Malachi Doyle 2025.  
Post a Comment
Read more