Invitation to the 2019 Flying Islands’ Poets’ Picnic

Invitation to the 2019 Flying Islands’ Poets’ Picnic

on Sunday 22^nd December

At ARBARO

(Kit & Carol’s place)

878 Markwell Rd,

MARKWELL via BULAHDELAH NSW, 2423

The Picnick-ing of the Picnic begins at midday

Launches and Readings begin promptly at 1.30pm

GETTING HERE

once at Bulahdelah (you can find it!)

drive down the main street (Stroud St)

keep going as Stroud St becomes Markwell Rd (though there isn’t a sign) which is the road you want …

drive OVER the roundabout at Lee St, to show your justified contempt for it, and keep going

… over the Fry’s Creek Bridge and the ford (considering nostalgically how from time to time you’d be washed away right here)

pass the country’s first fully solar powered robotic dairy (sneer anyway if yr vegan)

pass sheds of chook shame (sneer if yr human)

dodge wallabies

pass the Cabbage Tree off (pass it! Horseman, cast a cold eye no matter what the GPS says)

acknowledge the Worimi people

pass Old Inn Road on your left (no need to seek the old inn though)

do you recognize the old church at Rosenthal? (well disguised)

and in moments (as a real estate agent would say) yll simply find yrself there

– our place is number 878 because it's 8.78 kms from the PO at Bulahdelah

(so you could set yr tripmeter and rely on that)

our place is the first driveway on the right, right after the Markwell sign

please park up the top of the place (plenty of parking on the side of the road) unless yr camping the night (and know where you’re going) or have special needs (and know where you’re going)

Hint – remember to stay on the tar and don’t be seduced by Markwell Back Road

(a dusty and dangerous place on the wrong side of the river [note fierce rivalry and ghost stories with spooked horses])

THE RUNDOWN

Midday - the Picnick-ing of the Picnic begins

1.30 - Launches and Readings begin

There are eight new books coming out this year in the Flying Islands’ Pocket Poets’ Series and five of them will be launched at the picnic, as per the rundown below.

1.30 – 2.30

M/C – Sarah St Vincent Welch

Kerri Shying’s Knitting Mangrove Roots to be launched by Gail Hennessy

2.30 – 3.30

M/C – Anna Couani

George Watt’s Sandpaper Swimming – Going After Burke & Wills  

to be launched by Richard Allen

3.30 – 4.30

M/C – Dael Allison

Geoff Page’s Codicil to be launched by Judy Johnson

4.30 – 5.30

M/C – Brian Purcell

Clark Gormley’s Not What You Think   to be launched by Ed Wright

5.30 – 6.30

M/C –

Gillian Swain’s My skin its own sky to be launched by Magdelana Ball

If you want to read and/or play (and we want you to read and/or play!), please let me know and you shall be slotted somewhere into this sched-yule. Note – it must be your own stuff. No favourite poems by Blake or Dickinson. Reversionings (of all stripe) always welcome of course.

We anticipate decent gaps between the sessions and although there are no ‘parallel sessions’, we don’t expect everybody will see and listen to everyone… it might just be too much… and there are spots to quietly wander off for a sotto voce chinwag or kip or what-you-will devil may care so on…

Depending on the weather and so on, we may move the event around a bit in order to encourage the circulation of vital fluids. Note that water (& other liquid refreshment) in all forms is welcome!

7pm - we evacuate the picnic to …

DINNER AT THE PUB

Please let us know numbers by December 13th as the pub needs to plan!

When we have the list of all who wish to perform we’ll update the rundown

meanwhile

DON’T FORGET

togs and towel and hat for a swim

your stuff to read and instruments of torture

It's a BYO picnic. So please bring things like –

picnic blanket

chairs (if you like sitting. We'll have some but not enough)

picnic tucker in picnic basket (water cress sandwiches?)

drinks of choice (ginger pop?)

A NOTE ON ACCOMMODATION

The on-site accommodation is reserved for launchers and launchees (and they know who they are). Apart from that, there is plenty of space to camp and there is a kitchen and bathroom and dunny belonging to our camping  ZONE (also known as ‘the other side of the creek’ [were the creek to flow there would be a general hooting and a hollerin’ in celebration … and though there was a recent raindance on the driveway with colourful feathers, this nevertheless remains unlikely]).

Beyond our borders, in the vassal town of Bulahdelah, are many accommodation options.  There are four motels (one already booked out), there is the pub, there are two camping/cabin places and there are other van camping spots as well. There are some airbnbs dotted about here and there. Please write if you want more details of the options.

There are plenty of reasons to hang around the district, if you want to make a weekend of it; to whit Myall Lakes National Park, beaches like Hawks Nest and Seals Rocks, Pacific Palms, etc; Cabbage Tree Mountain behind us. If you want to make your tour more of a poetry event, you can always travel the whole of the Bulahdelah-Taree Holiday Song Cycle (in which Markwell does receive an honourable mention). Keep driving along our lovely road and you'll get to Gloucester the nicest way, then that track turns into Thunderbolt's Way (now fully sealed) and you're on the way to Armidale. Highly recommended.

A NOTE ON WATER AND TOILETS AND SO ON

The main thing to note about water is how little of it there is… then again, each of us is comprised 70% of the stuff, so we must be able to make use of this somehow. For instance, within the bounds of decency, urination on trees is particularly encouraged. (This may be more of a boy thing, but we’re just sayin’.) The main toilets to use are at the top and the bottom of our house. The dunny in the Zone is only meant for overnight use and only for solid waste (and you would not wish to set off the urination detection alarm, not for quids). Likewise, the flushing of the house loos will be reserved for number twos – along the lines of the time honoured dictum: ‘if it’s yellow let it mellow’. This may have already been too much information.

A NOTE ON CREATURES AND CLOSING OF DOORS

There are a few snakes and spiders about,  so look where you are walking, and use a torch if you’re here after dark. As well as insect life, there are plenty of microbats as well as marsupial rats in the vicinity, and we prefer not to share territory with these. (The microbats have amazing navigational abilities and won’t fly into you but never pick one up because, if bitten, you’ll end up on a course of painful rabies injections.) So please be vigilant about closing doors after yourself. So much easier than evicting our animal and insect friends before bed.

So before Dec 13^th please RSVP to kitkelen@emeritus.um.edu.mo

to tell us

if you’re coming

if you want to read/sing/play us a song (note: all contributions MUST be original…  no covers!)

if you’re coming to the pub for dinner

if you want to camp (the night before or the night after)

HELPING

We do need help with setting up and so on, so please do let us know if you have a spare shoulder to put to the wheel prior to the commencement of festivities. You’re welcome to stay the night before.

Rob Schackne #1034 - A Wake

A Wake

Dress in black
drink a lot   laugh
have a good time
no outsider
remember a life
why they loved you
wake in happiness
(with a slight hangover)
light through the curtains
just lie there   where
do you get coffee

Jeffree Skewes # 142 Acted

Say we have empathy
to an idea this life's a journey
lived as if we know it's worth

say if empathy was a thing
grown and nurtured by intention alone
then so the journey begins

say we didn't need to slave
other than to craft the walking
or landing when sometimes we fall

say only sunshine and dreams
mattered most even though you say
someone has to pay to play

say the stock market
was no longer the measure
but happiness at all costs our true ambition

say the world was nothing but a stage
we acted and directed and learned our lines
say this work was theatre make-believe

say everyone understood it was our purpose
to show-off and practice what we really love
we'd all be actors and those who watched acted too

say numbers flocked to stages and not to work
would there be a need for generals thieves or slaves
even if not

we acted it was true

image: Water Dragon - detail / synthetic polymer paint & ink on recycled rice paper JMS 2018

Kit Kelen #1431 - made up of moods

1431

made up of moods

(singular event)

touched till

once when then nostalgia

riff

leaf lit

up she rises

and hooray

of moment

the pleasing

and the after, sad

all wordlessly

can’t help but

be blessed

and damn your eyes

come crashing from

the pills

mostly spells

off kilter on again

a run, a variation

all cast about sugar hit

see the circle into, on

discovery of you-tell-me

arrow points up

to follow a curve

there is a breeze

in my branches

key change

inebriants

come gather you

scrum

so pitter patter

all meaning

here’s for horizon

altogether now

three cheers

Rob Schackne #1033 - "Famous for a poem" (redux)

Famous for a poem
written when he was drunk
he doesn’t like it now
its edges curled
trodden wet leaves
he takes a walk with umbrella
in ten minutes sees the marvelous
it reminds him of prayer
a great love, a missed flight
an arrow, a bed, a blister
his film is screened
once, twice, three times a week
he wishes he wasn't famous
several people watching
one gentle soul claps

one gets up and leaves
there's a kind of organ music

KA Rees #64 - Charnel Ground

Charnel Ground

The politician sings and stomps his feet, waves a fist

of stolen emu feathers in an approximation to what he’s seen

on film, doesn’t understand this dance — any open handed

gesture (of his ringed fingers) will do. These grounds once

curated, kept knowingly, now thousands of kilometres of ashen trees, bodies

of koalas wrapped blackly around trunks spearing sky with their leafless silhouettes.

The politician practices his coal dance turning the granulated chunk,

catching his smirk across its inked surface, watches as bodies

and entire towns are brought to the charnel ground.

Kit Kelen #1430 - animals in my life

1430

animals in my life

bounce by

they light and lift

bank swoop

some surefoot

thoughtless

light of heart

so seeming wise

in what to do

indoors in walls

in thoughts and prayers

the you for instance

others all

and in the end

far seen hunting

come grisly sudden

a skitter and a slink

they lack the winking lid

hide in a cloud, squeeze

hope against

how is their sleep consisting?

cultivate cute

see sneeze

all paws

run the rug

make a dash and sweat for it

never out of ink, ideas

how often they seem to miss the point

wild, and they’re vanished

to camouflage, to ground

tangle of grammar have at

they creep

lovely in their lies

accused of prayer

populate a documentary

rhymed with gone

and smelt them then

day is their having risen

as when I creature it for comfort

and animal myself

in blazing catch

eyes for a dark

to throw paths

die of an honest thirst

they themselves bitten

still linger

come what may

death the unknown

an instant away

and full of tricks as all are

coming through the webs

as if you’d won the race

you’d never known about

these animals, my intimates

as nameless to me

as I to them

we none of us are tame

but

slip through a crack in the dream

just as far as it takes to be

Kerri Shying R #598 - in zombieland

in zombieland

6am I forgot to see
the sky
starred cream flowers
open

yesterday the country danced
felt feet stamp  the
sorrow ground

to bees who beat veined
invisible
mile high wings the wind
a thousand mile
an hour when you weigh
a gram

a sunbeam
at the cusp
of all this DNA
you fly

KA Rees #63 - Tufts

Tufts

Tip of a feather, a rust coloured eye spying

down from the sky. In the under, scurrying,

a brief feint and a mass of swirling struggle

sharp points serrate lacerate eviscerate

the leavings are all that is left, scattered tufts

the fawn coloured pelt all over the lawn.

Coalescence Part 5 # Claine Keily 143

I awake to the sound of motors, pumped up, showcase style. Sleepless now, I water the burnt leaves in my garden, sip coffee, then throw down birdseed for the crows. I put out water for the abandoned cat who is lumbered with new kittens.


The machines shine in the yard of the house beside me. They are new toys. My neighbours- only employed for a month now- have bought them. These objects are a reward for their monosyllabic understanding of the world.


Soon it will all collapse. The trucks they drive for work will soon be self driven, and the owners will take everything. The houses they live in now will wear shredded curtains. Once more the brothers will be forced to live with their sisters, who, pumped full of child work at the local supermarket until the welfare payments arrive.

Kerri Shying #597 - under the swivel eye so long

under the swivel eye so long

everyone's in bed all animals I'm regressed
beyond the membranes of the social
into fur a christmas beetle
burrs in to land on my pillow I've become the pond
the tree the paddock in the land

struck dumb watching discs
on my dullard old tv private alone I
am the new porn no-one tracks my
eyeline clicks each time    I slip off to take
a wee I'm fragile

in the air
a pool of neighbour noise gamers' bass
the throats of frogs
                        blissing in the owl-free yard I know
I am the frog I feel
the temperature of water in this
vessel as it cools

Kit Kelen #1429 - tick tock

1429

tick tock

there’s some part of the clock we inhabit

tell the tune far far green

somewhere we certain anxious rush

or signature of time

trails off

you couldn’t dream the numbers

they get you off

metabolism a Christmas come

and Easter in

hair trigger

further in a season fold

under hat

with tip tap rain

and here for ease

a grace note rest

we’ll come to the top by’n’by

it’s next year in Jerusalem

here is my rewards card

tricks first of fire

when time burnt a hole

in all pockets

when we were young, beautiful

never knew

and now is it a battery runs down?

who can tell mechanism?

wind-up tribes of a crime have flocked

surveillance!  all under eternity’s eye

luck pours through and out

the others side

tap dripping still

only the night of hours between

fell into the mirror once

came up with this form of words

and it’s here the condemned

welcome dawn again

into the lonely cell

association’s progress scars

I was that rabbit

fob watch in my face

and mustn’t mustn’t be late 

Rob Schackne #1032 - A Track

A  Track

She grew up on a station off the Birdsville Track. 

She lived there for twenty years. 
It never rained. 
A new stockman was put on. 
A week after the stranger came it rained for a week. 
She remembered how noisy it was. 
She left for Uni and lasted a year. 
After that there were thousands of miles. 
Years passed in the eight directions. 
They talked about animals and the weather forecast. 
There was fire on the mountain. 
It was far away. 
It was local.
Everything was so quiet. 
They barely recognised each other.

Kit Kelen #1428 - certain tricks of the skin

1428

certain tricks of the skin

seeing is such

under your hat

bone knowing

call it

track is a map

in the all four paws

laughter in hedges

like sea-lapped stone

and scree slide

footsure come to

stand, survey

hear hum for a hillside

you and I so sure

to be the smoke rising

creek run away

down down to the haunts

of women, men

just as much as moss

as lichen

it’s breath by breath

how else could we come?

all pumped from the clock

worn down to whiff

commit to certain style

skin tricks, leaf swivels

bursts of up make notes

come to an understanding

should have listened

when the body said

push to test

perspire

till the snow

and we all melt

cliffs lit

looking up

winter white smooth here

I must imagine not-a-soul

disappearing in this script

a frolic in the furs

days of the sun past

this cloud if we climb

topple off over into

home is a trick of the skin

KA Rees #62 - Light Kinks

Light Kinks

Chewing out the dirty sky

silk mink that light stink

hard hit baseball scat

down n' out in that dirt street

leaves in the guttering

silk purse and lavende-a jacky rand-a

guitar solo on the flying V, middle note

C chewing the milky whey.

Kerri Shying R -#596 - room X205

room X205

Written for the strategy and the safer city symposium
Part of the 16 days of activism violence against women

there's me
wheeling by the coffee shops the steps
prevent me entry the blind can't
negotiate the menu on your boxed plea
instagrams here's a
shout out to the deaf

my body is a workplace my
complaint an industrial
dispute

every week you see my vibe
fold my knickers wash me
clean I need you behind the 8 ball
so keep the peace read my diagnosis
see my brain disease

can you really trust
the words any more than I
can trust my limbs I'm a suspect
individual
at least

Coalescence Part 4 # Claine Keily

There came a point when I had to give up. The heat and the blindness around me got me. I cowered in my little room and filled glass cabinets I had found by the roadside, with flowers both dead and alive. I strung up fairy lights and pulled the rescued animals towards me.


In a few years I would leave here and return to my home. From there, I would watch this place burn.

Jeffree Skewes #140 Miffed too

truth is, of mythology
we call-out the duds
and justly praise the rest eg.

water and taxes trickle downhill
all magpies swoop in September
humans are superior

curators get it right
bank execs aren't paid enough
the tall poppy syndrome is exaggerated

books, hard copy and libraries are doomed
contemporary art is not the art of now
mathematics is the most useful of all school subjects

avocado numbers are in dangerous decline
video replays solve the issues
coal is unrelated to anything

too much leisure is the root of all evil
most of us want to work forever
childcare is not a result of late-capitalism

rap music is a mere transition
chocolate a luxury never deserved before breakfast
wood is by far the best material

building roads is better than investing in art
what goes up must come down
one-hit wonders actually have more...

poetry is on the rise
America and the UK will get better
modern children are naturally smarter

no amount of calling-out politicians helps
the highest mountain is closer than you think
overcrowding makes sense

the best years are ahead
fashion's not a thing
if you count slowly the pressure comes down

dogs are smarter than cats
baldness a sign of virility
Christmas has never been bigger

TV sport is the new physical activity
vegans will rise up
myths are a curse

Kit Kelen #1427 - secret ballot (song)

1427

secret ballot

notes for a song

here’s the big lie

did you vote for it?

that we’re so good

no harm by us

nobody’s going to say

guilt’s a little wallow

it’s a secret ballot

that’s a kind of ballet  

did you waltz in,

vote for the big lie?

did you suck it up?

did you swallow?

could you see right through them

telling you?

it was never our fault

we were following orders

white lie

just the ticket

someone had to barb the borders

on account of the sticky wicket

here it is

did you vote for it?

no one’s game to say

did you vote for what they’re doing to them?

what they’re doing to us?

are you in their pay?

no one’ll notice us

we’re so small

couldn’t make a difference

not if we tried

and we’re so good

no harm from us

did you fall

for that one?

don’t point at us

when the planet’s fried

did you vote for the big fat lie?

did you swallow it?

are you spreading it round?

bad taste in your mouth

does it stick in your throat?

or do you prefer to lie with the liars?

does it suit you better to gloat?

this idea of your innocence

did you fall for that?

how we had to do less

cause of tit for tat?

did you vote for the big fire

for the drought?

how long can you keep yourself safe

selling freedoms?

how many trees till your forest is gone?

did you believe the highest bidder?

chuffed to be worth so much

were you bought?

all nodding along

because birds in soiled nests agree

‘it wasn’t me, it was never me’

and we were never caught

you can file a lie away

put it under ‘not for now’

or ‘might never happen’

how good is a lie?

did you vote for it?

how many fingers am I holding up?

black was white last time I looked

here’s the big lie

no harm by us

and what can we do if the planet’s cooked?

did you notice the animals voting?

did you see when the trees stood up?

did you feel how the world was turning?

did you hear them all say enough?

it was a sacred ballot

so nobody can know

the markets will do terrifically well

the city is underwater

the bush is on fire and it’s blowing away

buy up shares in insurance!

do you know how the ghosts are voting

the country

the soil

the seas

?

maybe we should vote for them

maybe vote with the trees

twinge of remorse you unworlded the change?

never thought that would work

the graph goes up and on

here’s the big lie

did you vote for it?

that we’re so good

no harm by us

sacred ballot’s

our little ballet

cough and splutter

then we all go out

no one will ever know how we voted

when this wicked world is gone

KA Rees #61 - Anatomy of a raindrop

Anatomy of a raindrop

Half light has fallen into dust

like half of a broken haiku, what

use hawk eyes, dust and fire and fine

ash mix, there is a meeting of

air masses, like a revolt

of shareholders taking a chunk

out of executive bonuses. Light forks

dance, molecules of rain fall

but don’t drop—they’re shaped

like the top of a burger bun—they coalesce,

bond together. Shake down the sky.

Kit Kelen #1426 - Plato

1426

Plato

in a forest of this rain, breeze dreaming

the cave is God’s mind

clamour till dark is  

here’s smoke

all a month with now

knows us by name

see a way clear

slept past

here’s a philosopher king

bright plumage

rug for pride

guess an end of this dilation

find winged

all sorts lost to be

just with a little prompt

there are things

you might remember having known

Plato has a gun

is holed up in the Academy

the whole scheme’s doomed

we know about the Big Bang now

learned in the Planetarium

(isn’t that where we are?)

as the mosquito can tell our kind

with one bite

sleep

a picture of a bed

and here’s the candlelight

he’s smoking again

told him and told him

but flit

later there’ll be neo-magic

that will take some nous

gather the facts

and file away

you may be of use later 

Jeffree Skewes #139 Miffed

there is some truth in mythology

we called out the duds
others earn accolades

like it was going out of fashion
the found-outs were placed in the red column
pending ones continued in black and drew ire
sum unknown due to those who sat on the fence
water and taxes trickle downhill
magpies only swoop in September
humans superior

occasionally the curator gets it right
bank execs are paid not unreasonably enough
the tall poppy syndrome is exaggerated

books, hard copy and libraries are doomed
contemporary art is the art of now
the Australia council is never too top-heavy
coal is unrelated to anything
avocado numbers are in decline
math is the most useful of all school subjects

video replays are the way going forward
too much leisure the root of all evil
most of us want to work forever
a smart set of pegs and smile gets the deal done

childcare is not a by-product of capitalism's growth
time is longer or shorter depending on the gain
rap is a mere transition in music history
wood is by far the best material
chocolate a luxury never deserved before breakfast

building roads is better than investing in art
what goes up must come down
all water is molecularly the same
myths are in danger of becoming legend
one-hit wonders actually have more

poetry is on the rise
America and the UK will get better
growing lawn has never been bigger
modern children are naturally smarter

no amount of calling out politicians helps
the highest mountains are closer than you think
radio shock-jocks read from a script
flossing is quite difficult for seniors
more hospitals are not the solution
overcrowding make sense

the best years are ahead
apples in lunches last longest
fashions is not really a thing anymore

if you count slowly the pressure comes down
dogs are smarter than cats
baldness a sign of virility
history is solid
mindfulness the new grey
bucket lists are thing of the past
Christmas has never been bigger

TV sport is the new physical activity
vegans will rise up

myths are a curse

Kit Kelen #1425 - waiting for the fires

1425

waiting for the fires

after Cavafy

why bother dusting?

       watering flowers?

to static foretelling radios falter

why read a book when leaves turn to flame?

be merry, for tomorrow – hell

shall I plant the parsley?

shall I plant a tree?

why anything when maybe?

we’ll need trees when the fire’s done

because there are these predicted

out of control, being controlled

fire consumes the map

and country

mortgages and rent

beyond the black stump

a fire is its own insurance

shadows march in the cave

things precious to it

can we feed crumbs?

down fire

I gift this beautiful tree

old shed, no one needs

may we make offering?

chickens the right colour

so we mock the deniers of fire

make mirth

let’s trip them

laugh

tie knots

be merry

make hay to burn

all hail

beautiful beautiful

thus this oration

why yoga

when I will be ash?

hear the singing in among

all ideas in the cloud

we’re the tribe who are ready

always packed and ready to go

make circles of this

no country to return

though

after and there’s nothing to burn

we ornament to ogle it

gorgeous raiment gone

of course ukuleles

how well pianos burn, guitars

love is itself a kind of fire

like a truth the bones show through

it licks but not to taste

we will present our reasons to fire

wind brings it

and the breeze too goes

taller than we stand

our offerings are meaning, art

and sentiment and taste

no, rain is a procession

keep it in a tank, a hose

the order of things out

birds above it thermalling

catch orange of the sun

brief visit, will it be announced?

every question burns

sudden as the news

fire makes its own weather

gold survives it, stars

this ripens past the fruit

and prayer

will we be spared?

take the neighbours

take the town

some think of fire as the answer

perhaps it will not come 

Kerri Shying R #595 - ever wonder what your purpose in life is

ever wonder what your purpose in life is

it was the nine hundred
and eighty-fifth text
I said look now  
gently as the telling
can be done this
here is unwanted

still it comes
that powerless pain
surges   from the sea bottom
my undertow

the bathtubs where I crouched naked
fists over ears the ranting man
paces telling me at volume

what a piece of shit disappointment
I have turned out to be and

just
what he wants how it's going to go

the next day you
sms again
inside I bleed
I roll my eyes back
so far they see my spine

always wanted
one of those see-through
umbrellas to keep me dry
while
looking at the traffic the impending
crashes flashing lights
an impermeable membrane with
my finger on the button

to say stop
is there an app
does that

KA Rees #60 - Requiter

Requiter

resonate, ruthless, rant, rush, rort, rejoice, roister, road, ripe,

ruminate, rust, requiter, ruff, reserve, restrict, refute, remove

run-in, resident, rustle, rule, rerebrace, ruin, reservoir, rest,

room, rookery, relegate, reprimand, roof, ref, rubbish, ring, rant,

rubble, roughen, reveal, result, RIGHT, rant, rare, resign, rocket,

rifle, race, rapt, resort, range, restaurant, remote, render

rant, reptile, repulsive, remnant, reject, remove, retire, rocket,

repress, rowdy, ruin, rove, run, rural, resuscitate, refuse, rent.