ALICE THORPE

     Most of Alice's poetry came out of discussions with Ewan this month. There were sundry scraps of verse, and the two more consistent efforts, One of Them and Lay down my life in the Sun. Three poems came out of the Columbine High School 'incident'. Thankfully, they were posted just too late for inclusion in this review. Thankfully, because it is very difficult to objectively assess one's own work  or to work out what others might be interested in hearing about it (grin)

BOB KING

      Bob had a quietly creative month. His first poem was one of his better pieces of work. The City is a sharp observation of the life and times of human social beings..

       Everyone with some purpose
       moving in confusion in all directions
       some going, some coming, some just standing
       not knowing which way to go.

       On the other side of the street
       sits a beggar, old hat between his feet
       most people just walk by, no conscience,
       oblivious of others less fortunate.

He asks some pointed questions, among them,

       What would happen if all this stopped
       the streets left empty, footpaths bare
       buildings deserted, nothing moving
       silence prevailing everywhere?

with these time stopping lines..

       Time will answer this poignant question
       but for each of us the clock will stop.
       We will not care, for we will sleep
       six feet down where silence reigns.

       The flowers still grow and bloom
       the trees still shed their blossom
       they wither and die but their seed lives on
       and so it is with man.

Kosovo was a much harder piece of writing, one in which we see the help and support of Paula Esson. It is good to see her writing in
whatever guise (smile) We could do with more of it. Shared authorship is no easy thing but Bob has done this more than once and seems fluent at it. 

       Keep the dogs of war at bay
       On our conscience are the refugees
       Should we fight to make way
       Or should we act like a hive of bees
       Very busy yet achieving little
       Of the needs of these people.

Alphabet, or spelling poems have the advantage that they make the poet think round the subject and almost force them to find angles on the original idea which they might not have noticed before. They're also very difficult to make flow, or to be grammatically consistent. I think on the whole this was well done. The mayhem and confusion of war is a hard thing to tackle in itself, and this piece of disciplined expression did no harm at all. There are some very powerful moments in this work: for example:

       Keening of a people in terrible strife
       Occurring from a lifetime's put down
       Suffering needlessly in this game of life,
       Ordeals that go on in the country and town,
       Vain thoughts have no place,

Should we forget? is much more than a formalized tribute to the past. There is a gentleness in it that makes it more personal and accessible to the reader.

    It is well that those who can
    Remember that which should not wane,
    For once the world at war was real,
    And so are the memories we feel.

    As a child I lived it through,
    The sense of what was happening though
    to me, made no sense at all
    For all the world was deep in war.

I found these direct and apparently simple lines very effective:

    I live in hope that one day,
    Man will learn the futility of war,
    And all those lives were not given in vain,
    For those of us who remain.

    And so I say to you all,
    Let not the memory dim of those that fell.
    It was not in vain they gave
                   . . .

    So let us try and live in peace,
    For war solves nothing, except give lease,
    To those who wish their mind to say,
    I am right, you must give way.

EDDIE KYLE
      Had a quietly humorous month. I have the impression he is going through his archives with his tongue in his cheek, poking fun at himself from several different angles. Not to mention giving us the odd delightful momentary observation of life and manners in the great outback and behind the scenes in the corridors of power.. 

First up was In their Old HQ. The significance of the letters in the
title quite escapes me, but not the 'message'

       We set out from Ballerat town hoping to explore
       The great Australian Outback in a brand new Commodore,
       A mighty beast! The pride of all of the Australian Sedans,
       You'd never guessed it would break the belt that drives the fan?

I rather enjoyed the beat and weep of : Inconsistent Changing Mind II

       All my pleasures being denied,
       I stop, I plead, broke down and cried
       You're never there although *I* tried
       With your inconsistent changing mind.
       I'll go without, that's my bet,
       Another chance I'll never get,
       I hope one day you will regret
       Your inconsistent changing mind.

In some ways I almost preferred ICM III which was writtensays Eddie,  "as a self-filk (for want of a better term) based on something that got bunkered (EPCM I), merged and rewritten (EPCM IIbeta & the unposted Denial) - it seems rather odd to post III first, but I like being different [genial grin]". (Which is all very well, Eddie, but it muddles my files (genial grin back)

       You lied to us, and very largely
       Acting staunch and oh-so starchy
       We'll just ask that Mister Saatchi
       About your inconsistent changing mind.

Now there's a nicely turned verse, and one that homes in on the point
without dither or delay. Good rhythm, and nothing wasted or twisted to save the rhyme.

Soul Mining I - dedicated to R. I. MacIntyre - is a much more
serious sort of a poem, on the surface, and while it makes some points which are well worth thinking about, for me, it did not quite 'come off' as a poem. A promising beginning:

       The end of today and another year
       I wonder what I've achieved
       as I struggle to understand
          - exactly who I think I am.

and a moment of potential self realization vividly expressed..

       Too many years in the same rut -
       Pissing away time, in pursuit of fun.

and a deeper and more intense 'dig'

The deeper I dig, the worse it looks,
 - mining for clues in the search for a soul.

The tailings are rich, so why aren't I?
Are there crimes from my youth I'm still yet to pay?

I fancy I might have left off the last line altogether, for it
introduces a new thought which can't at that point be developed, except as something new. The answer lies in the 'Too many years' lines I think, and to chop it off leaves that realization in a much stronger position, poetically speaking. That's only my opinion of course:) I'm much more a believer in 'one thing leading to another' than in 'punishment and debt'. 'Pissing away time in pursuit of fun' will do it every time (grin).