Your post has a lot to offer, Dave, with no less than 15 poems - some of which experiment with new and interesting forms that, like the first poem, have the force of a great energy heading into new territory. It may have been a drought year for the land, but there was no drought for the work. Congratulations, my dear friend, on your 100th post on Substack! It's a significant achievement.
It was a deeply interesting experience. Inland Australia is vast and various. I have lived in more remote places, and in more spectacular places, but this was one of the more strange environments, and the season was extreme.
I had entirely forgotten this sequence of poems and only found it by accident yesterday. To my surprise it actually conveys exactly how I felt. Whether it comes across as as worthwhile to other people I cannot tell, but I have to write what seems true to me and - reading it now after a long break - I find that I did.
Hi Dave, I love these poems — what a privilege to be out there, what a diverse country we are ... you take us out there, I can feel and taste it. I do love our many landscapes, whatever they bring us.
I deeply appreciate the comment. These poems were lost to time, until I rediscovered them….. To see them live again, and bring meaning to others, is something I could never have expected.
And yes! This land is so spectacularly diverse …. I have lived in the driest deserts and luxuriated in rainforest rivers. We have almost everything. (My one regret is that we lack true alpine peaks, but NZ is very close! :)
Still hoping things are okay for you in the Otways….
They are fabulous, glad you rediscovered them. Thank goodness for NZ being so close, the first time l visited l was taken with their pointy mountains 🤣🙏🖤. The fire is contained though still burning. The towns that were evacuated are all home, a couple of homes were lost 🔥🙏
You know - your comment has truly made a wonderful end to a day of mixed fortunes.
It is - of course - notoriously hard to evaluate your own work. I wrote this poem sequence about 24 years ago just before I gave up publishing entirely. The experience of the week in a tent under furnace conditions in a land smashed by drought was... intense.
I was used to heat like that after my years living in the desert but my life back then was raw and I was struggling with a lot of sharp edges. Writing was a conduit for interpreting what I saw and felt but I was so close to it that I just stored these away and never looked at them again. I didn't even realise I had managed to save them, until I came across them when searching an old archive for something else.
Reading them again with fresh eyes I was surprised to find that I liked what I had done. The whole searing experience came crashing back into my mind.
So publishing them here as my 100th Post felt right to me - as a reconnection with myself.
In terms of "likes" and readership "Dry Times" underperformed compared to much of my other work. I can't tell if it is simply less accessible to people or if 15 poems in one hit - plus a lengthy introduction - was just too long for the medium of Substack.
Maybe the answer is both.
However - with each person who has enjoyed it, and said so, my rupture with my own past has healed a little more.
Reading these is like going on a journey, Dave. The second to last has a sense of time travel. The sentence that goes on and on feels like it carried centuries (and is an entire lesson in how to use prepositions to advantage). I love the final poem. It makes me miss a place I have never seen.
I’m having a difficult week and writing - or even finding time to read comments on writing - seems impossible. It’s late at night here and your words have brightened my day - despite the hour!
I’m so glad, Dave, as your poems brightened mine. Do you have any posts where you discuss how you choose the form for each poem? I admire how inventive you are, clearly able to think about the shape of the overall poem as well as the story it is telling and the sounds it employs. I would love to grow in this.
Your words "The second to last has a sense of time travel" truly delighted me. That second to last verse is about the people who have always lived there, and still live there, and it was my attempt - in a brief space - to give at least a sketch of what their tens of thousands of years history and life have been like.
If it works, it is because I had the opportunity to live and work with First Nation Aboriginal people in much more remote areas of Central Australia, through the mid eighties and 90's. I camped and travelled and hunted with them, and attended ceremony with them. Several of my works on Substack refer to those experiences. eg. https://davidkirkby.substack.com/p/junga-yimi-true-story?r=471m47
You ask an interesting question. I don't think I have never written about form and line length except as an instruction to readers - like my comment on this Post where I warn that the line lengths and form are important in some of these and will not show up correctly on a phone screen; or my comment on "Climb" that it literally needs to be read from the bottom up, starting with the final line and ending with the first.
I enjoy playing with form - even to the point of true concrete poetry (eg Apple) - but the key (for me) is that the meaning and melody of the poem are more important to me than the form. The form is there to emphasise and deepen the meaning.
The how is a longer topic, and I may come back to that some time. Right now I have a self imposed commitment to publish something today, and the day is escaping from me.
Thank you again. I appreciate your comments, and I really do look forward to reading more f your own work.
I love hearing more about your history living and working with First National Aboriginal people. That richness came through. It is remarkable how poetry lets us make a personal connection to what otherwise might be impersonal facts. Your connection with the information in the poem lets us as readers make a connection. Thank you for thoughts on form too! That attitude of playing with form, staying curious, seeing what form can communicate to the reader, is important. Have you read any poems by A.A. Kostas here on Substack? He plays with form a lot too. You both inspire me to keep thinking about the poem from all angles. Thank you for taking the time to respond so thoughtfully, Dave.
For someone who has never been to Australia, I can picture it in vivid detail, with all its senses, from your poetry. Not only the land, but the people who live and toil on it, and the animals, the kangaroos, the sheep, how they live and die on the land.
As a wonderful writer yourself, I'm sure you know that your comment has brought me a true joy. I possibly "over explain" sometimes in my introductions, but I know that most of my readers are from different parts of the world and most of the Australian landscape really is so very very different to most of Asia, the Americas and Europe.
I hope you are well and enjoying your gorgeous Autumn colours!
Our Autumn & its delicious golden colours have long since crumbled into dust. We had our first snowfall two weeks ago (yes that’s early), we’ve had frost, sleet and freezing rain. And the Great Canadian Geese Migration (honk honk) is soaring above us, headed south no doubt.
Brrrrr! That does seem early. I love snow too - though I'm sure in a snowy climate it does eventually wear out its welcome. We went to the beach here yesterday.... the one featured in my Summer Solstice poem of late last year. I prefer the remote and empty beaches near our riverbank home, but city beaches have their own fun. Great for people watching, lol.
I envy you those remote wild beaches. I grew up in northern Quebec in the Gulf of St Lawrence on the edge of the Atlantic and we ran wild on empty expansive strands …
I just realised I have never subscribed to your own Substack. I have remedied that omission. Like so many of us - the strands and streams of life weave and wash around us and it can be hard to keep track of where we are, and with whom we are connected.
I have read your work - but not always commented. I will read more!
This was such a journey to read! I learned so much about sensory experience of living in your home. So many memorable lines and so creatively formatted! Congrats on 100 posts, Dave! I’m glad you’re here :)
"Dry Times" looks like being one of my less read Posts. Possibly the warning of "15 poems ahead" scared people off, lol. However, I wrote them as a group and they belong together and in the end we have to be true to ourselves. I can only publish what feels right to me and then readers will make of it what they will.
It does warm my heart though, Alex, that you enjoyed it.
My journey to Willandra was in the midst of what came to be called "The Millennium Drought" - the longest, most extensive and most severe drought recorded since Europeans arrived on the continent in 1788. (Of course, that's just an eye blink compared to the 65,000 years of history that the First Nation Aboriginal peoples have lived through here!)
I hope you are having a wonderful week!
Best Wishes to you over there from me over here - Dave :)
Thanks so much Dave, I love hearing a bit about the history. People do indeed get scared away by longer work, but I agree that those poems needed to be together and it’s good that you kept them that way!! Best wishes back to you from Toronto ☺️
Your post has a lot to offer, Dave, with no less than 15 poems - some of which experiment with new and interesting forms that, like the first poem, have the force of a great energy heading into new territory. It may have been a drought year for the land, but there was no drought for the work. Congratulations, my dear friend, on your 100th post on Substack! It's a significant achievement.
Thank you my friend. These were written just as I gave up publishing, and I don't think they have ever been read by anyone but me...
Best Wishes - Dave :)
A very enjoyable journey! It's clear how much the land became you and you became the land, in such a short time.
Thank you Trish
It was a deeply interesting experience. Inland Australia is vast and various. I have lived in more remote places, and in more spectacular places, but this was one of the more strange environments, and the season was extreme.
I had entirely forgotten this sequence of poems and only found it by accident yesterday. To my surprise it actually conveys exactly how I felt. Whether it comes across as as worthwhile to other people I cannot tell, but I have to write what seems true to me and - reading it now after a long break - I find that I did.
I am glad that you enjoyed it.
Best Wishes - Dave
Hi Dave, I love these poems — what a privilege to be out there, what a diverse country we are ... you take us out there, I can feel and taste it. I do love our many landscapes, whatever they bring us.
Dear Simone
I deeply appreciate the comment. These poems were lost to time, until I rediscovered them….. To see them live again, and bring meaning to others, is something I could never have expected.
And yes! This land is so spectacularly diverse …. I have lived in the driest deserts and luxuriated in rainforest rivers. We have almost everything. (My one regret is that we lack true alpine peaks, but NZ is very close! :)
Still hoping things are okay for you in the Otways….
Best Wishes - Dave
They are fabulous, glad you rediscovered them. Thank goodness for NZ being so close, the first time l visited l was taken with their pointy mountains 🤣🙏🖤. The fire is contained though still burning. The towns that were evacuated are all home, a couple of homes were lost 🔥🙏
Hey Dave
Firstly, congratulations on 100 posts on Substack. And what a post to celebrate that milestone!
This is one of the best things I’ve read on here, incredibly evocative and moving and many more things that I can’t quite put into words.
Thank you so much for sharing it with us, it’s such a wonderful piece.
Hope all is well,
UK Dave
Hey there Northern Dave!
You know - your comment has truly made a wonderful end to a day of mixed fortunes.
It is - of course - notoriously hard to evaluate your own work. I wrote this poem sequence about 24 years ago just before I gave up publishing entirely. The experience of the week in a tent under furnace conditions in a land smashed by drought was... intense.
I was used to heat like that after my years living in the desert but my life back then was raw and I was struggling with a lot of sharp edges. Writing was a conduit for interpreting what I saw and felt but I was so close to it that I just stored these away and never looked at them again. I didn't even realise I had managed to save them, until I came across them when searching an old archive for something else.
Reading them again with fresh eyes I was surprised to find that I liked what I had done. The whole searing experience came crashing back into my mind.
So publishing them here as my 100th Post felt right to me - as a reconnection with myself.
In terms of "likes" and readership "Dry Times" underperformed compared to much of my other work. I can't tell if it is simply less accessible to people or if 15 poems in one hit - plus a lengthy introduction - was just too long for the medium of Substack.
Maybe the answer is both.
However - with each person who has enjoyed it, and said so, my rupture with my own past has healed a little more.
Thank you Dave, for helping me feel complete.
Best Wishes
Southern Dave
.
Beautiful imagery and a wonderful flow of words.
Thank you Annabel. I was surprised - and happy - to find this lost work and bring it out into the light...
Best Wishes - Dave :)
I feel as though I have been on a long, epic journey. Such powerful prose-ful poetry.
Oh my friend… I’m so glad you like it. It was a journey to a most unusual place, in a strange time…
Best Wishes - Dave
Reading these is like going on a journey, Dave. The second to last has a sense of time travel. The sentence that goes on and on feels like it carried centuries (and is an entire lesson in how to use prepositions to advantage). I love the final poem. It makes me miss a place I have never seen.
Hi dear Abi
Thank you! That is the most wonderful comment….
I’m having a difficult week and writing - or even finding time to read comments on writing - seems impossible. It’s late at night here and your words have brightened my day - despite the hour!
Best Wishes - Dave :)
I’m so glad, Dave, as your poems brightened mine. Do you have any posts where you discuss how you choose the form for each poem? I admire how inventive you are, clearly able to think about the shape of the overall poem as well as the story it is telling and the sounds it employs. I would love to grow in this.
Hi Abi
I meant to add to my reply last night:
Your words "The second to last has a sense of time travel" truly delighted me. That second to last verse is about the people who have always lived there, and still live there, and it was my attempt - in a brief space - to give at least a sketch of what their tens of thousands of years history and life have been like.
If it works, it is because I had the opportunity to live and work with First Nation Aboriginal people in much more remote areas of Central Australia, through the mid eighties and 90's. I camped and travelled and hunted with them, and attended ceremony with them. Several of my works on Substack refer to those experiences. eg. https://davidkirkby.substack.com/p/junga-yimi-true-story?r=471m47
You ask an interesting question. I don't think I have never written about form and line length except as an instruction to readers - like my comment on this Post where I warn that the line lengths and form are important in some of these and will not show up correctly on a phone screen; or my comment on "Climb" that it literally needs to be read from the bottom up, starting with the final line and ending with the first.
I enjoy playing with form - even to the point of true concrete poetry (eg Apple) - but the key (for me) is that the meaning and melody of the poem are more important to me than the form. The form is there to emphasise and deepen the meaning.
The how is a longer topic, and I may come back to that some time. Right now I have a self imposed commitment to publish something today, and the day is escaping from me.
Thank you again. I appreciate your comments, and I really do look forward to reading more f your own work.
Best wishes
Dave :)
I love hearing more about your history living and working with First National Aboriginal people. That richness came through. It is remarkable how poetry lets us make a personal connection to what otherwise might be impersonal facts. Your connection with the information in the poem lets us as readers make a connection. Thank you for thoughts on form too! That attitude of playing with form, staying curious, seeing what form can communicate to the reader, is important. Have you read any poems by A.A. Kostas here on Substack? He plays with form a lot too. You both inspire me to keep thinking about the poem from all angles. Thank you for taking the time to respond so thoughtfully, Dave.
Hi Abi
Beware, or I could bore you for hours about it. :)
I just looked up A A Kostas. Dendrite Soul, Deciduous Hearts is gorgeous!
Best Wishes - Dave :)
For someone who has never been to Australia, I can picture it in vivid detail, with all its senses, from your poetry. Not only the land, but the people who live and toil on it, and the animals, the kangaroos, the sheep, how they live and die on the land.
Dear Susan
As a wonderful writer yourself, I'm sure you know that your comment has brought me a true joy. I possibly "over explain" sometimes in my introductions, but I know that most of my readers are from different parts of the world and most of the Australian landscape really is so very very different to most of Asia, the Americas and Europe.
I hope you are well and enjoying your gorgeous Autumn colours!
Best Wishes - Dave :)
Our Autumn & its delicious golden colours have long since crumbled into dust. We had our first snowfall two weeks ago (yes that’s early), we’ve had frost, sleet and freezing rain. And the Great Canadian Geese Migration (honk honk) is soaring above us, headed south no doubt.
Brrrrr! That does seem early. I love snow too - though I'm sure in a snowy climate it does eventually wear out its welcome. We went to the beach here yesterday.... the one featured in my Summer Solstice poem of late last year. I prefer the remote and empty beaches near our riverbank home, but city beaches have their own fun. Great for people watching, lol.
Best Wishes - Dave :)
I envy you those remote wild beaches. I grew up in northern Quebec in the Gulf of St Lawrence on the edge of the Atlantic and we ran wild on empty expansive strands …
Congrats on 100 posts! Beautiful breadth of work here.
Dear Maya
Thank you!
I just realised I have never subscribed to your own Substack. I have remedied that omission. Like so many of us - the strands and streams of life weave and wash around us and it can be hard to keep track of where we are, and with whom we are connected.
I have read your work - but not always commented. I will read more!
Very Best Wishes - Dave :)
This was such a journey to read! I learned so much about sensory experience of living in your home. So many memorable lines and so creatively formatted! Congrats on 100 posts, Dave! I’m glad you’re here :)
Hi there dear Alex.
"Dry Times" looks like being one of my less read Posts. Possibly the warning of "15 poems ahead" scared people off, lol. However, I wrote them as a group and they belong together and in the end we have to be true to ourselves. I can only publish what feels right to me and then readers will make of it what they will.
It does warm my heart though, Alex, that you enjoyed it.
My journey to Willandra was in the midst of what came to be called "The Millennium Drought" - the longest, most extensive and most severe drought recorded since Europeans arrived on the continent in 1788. (Of course, that's just an eye blink compared to the 65,000 years of history that the First Nation Aboriginal peoples have lived through here!)
I hope you are having a wonderful week!
Best Wishes to you over there from me over here - Dave :)
Thanks so much Dave, I love hearing a bit about the history. People do indeed get scared away by longer work, but I agree that those poems needed to be together and it’s good that you kept them that way!! Best wishes back to you from Toronto ☺️
Once this water moved on,
heading west across the plain
to the lake country, the plenty country
where the rushes grew tall in the sky
and the wild duck called to each other
about the people coming, ....
- deeply moved by this, Dave. Will return to the desert, to feel it again, seen through your eyes.
Hi my friend. I'm glad you enjoyed it. I live on the coast now, but I'm planning a few trips back into the desert....
Come visit!
Best Wishes - Dave :)
Oh!!! Apologies friend Martin. I accidentally deleted your lovely comment!!! 🙈