Good day, fine citizens of Fayre Brisbane Towne!
Bright was the blessed Sunday arvo of February 24 that found our humble poetry mob step blinking from our usual warrens and seek the fertile ground of House Conspiracy – West End.
The poets slowly filed in to the strange environs of the Old Queenslander undercroft, the shadowy corners filled with arcane artwork and odd shadows that twisted away from the fluorescent lights above.
We entered to the sacred music of one Lucie Garlick, whose incredible vocal range and creative storytelling formed the heart and soul of our gathering. She belted out awesome hot bluesy rock, uncompromising and fierce.
Soon enough, the open mic began in earnest, as faces new and old assembled to listen as we shared our odd confessions:
Newcomer Heather bravely took to the stage first to share four short poems of days long gone, of Western Plains and stars, rainclouds and the rich imagery of a coming day, before paying tribute to the wartime nurses and the Australian Light Horse.
Michal Vaugn, the sonateer of all seasons, gave us a payday sonnet – with jingling pockets, stipends and renumeration, such satisfaction, practical and fun in equal measure.
The Venerable Eido gave us, initially, something happier, a confession of fury, and the lacking of the soul.
Geoffrey Evans, who has become a woman, though still an embryo, paying the price with even measure.
Thomas brough us Laments of Life, the deaths that sneak, the ill behaviours, allowed by passivity.
Savanu shared with us an ancient saga – the saga of the Dividing Act, no contribution required to the common boundary.
Another newcomer, Tusitala spoke honestly and passionately of the New Australian, shared the tale of being a migrant kid, settling in a new land, going from monsoons to seas of maroon.
The Reverend Hellfire first lamented the lack of a jackhammer (the construction noise outside sometimes intruding), then lamented the death of the earth – with a song, fighting for bread and water. Build a dome-shaped ark!
Trent was a mad dog, drowning out the noisy earthworks with a tale of Toms, Dicks and Harrys, vapour trails of hell and evil incarnate in a passionate message about abuse and cover-up – spread the good word about the greatest evil.
After a brief intermission, out own art director Shane gave an impressive lecture on the life and times of our artist of the month, Frida Kahlo, sharing the work and life of this remarkable woman with us.
Our second half was opened by Lucie, who wanted to share with us the intimacy of creation after sharing with us her inspiring and energetic performance.
Eido gave us a sad prison poem – Six years at Wolston – coping with crime with no damn reprieve.
Geoffry spoke of a London kid going to town with an elaborate revenge plot via STDs, before sharing with us what the radio called A Perfect Love Poem.
Thomas gave us “Unspoken” – the difficult reality of new families and the trials of true love.
Thus spake Savanu – “So much for free speech” – Tales of dirty looks while busking, and the strange looks from passers-by
And at last, Trent shared with us a quick love poem – the windows to the heart.
With that, our little entourage called the session to a close. Many thanks to the dear poets who came to share and listen, to our art director Shane, Linda for handing the kitchen matters, and to our wandering minstrel Lucie.
Stay tuned, dear citizens! Details of next month will be arriving soon. Until next time, keep writing and keep listening.