Alison Croggon was born in Carlton, Transvaal, South Africa....read more
Alison Croggon
Features
Poets
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Vincent Buckley
Vincent Buckley was born at Romsey, in the Macedon Ranges, Victoria, on 8 July 1925. ... more -
Ken Bolton
Ken Bolton was born in Sydney in 1949. He attended the University of Sydney, graduating ... more -
Richard Tipping
Richard Tipping was born in Adelaide in 1949. He studied at Flinders University in the ... more -
C. J. Dennis
Clarence Michael James Dennis, the eldest child of James Dennis, a hotelier, and his wife ... more
Review
Interview: Alison Croggon, May 2013
Why do you write poetry?
I’ve never been quite sure why. I’ve written it for as long as I can remember. I experience the desire to write it as a kind of pressure, an internal necessity that eventually emerges in a poem.
Is poetry important?
I don’t know how to answer that. The fact is that it’s not important to many people: they get by their whole lives without encountering it, and who is to say they are the worse for that? I’m reluctant to proselytise about poetry: why should anyone read it, if they don’t want to? It’s ...
...read review
Poems
The Democracy Of Water by Paul Hetherington
If water is democratic, filling
every place equally, according
to level, it's also aristocratic,
sharply silver in early morning
like old Austrian armour, and cold
as a ripple of silk. Strangely bland,
a no-taste in the lifted glass
suggesting absence, yet it's sublime
on the body, holding swimmers ... more
every place equally, according
to level, it's also aristocratic,
sharply silver in early morning
like old Austrian armour, and cold
as a ripple of silk. Strangely bland,
a no-taste in the lifted glass
suggesting absence, yet it's sublime
on the body, holding swimmers ... more
House for Sale by Vivian Smith
So many people have lived here who loved
love, awakening and sweeping up the dust.
The well is bottomless and doesn't show the moon,
the ancients have gone and taken nothing away.
The ivy takes over beneath the winter sky,
and only soot remains, their mark of coffee grounds.
I settle down now to long unravelled dreams.
I love the scum of other people's souls
mixed with the garnet coloured fringes of the chairs,
... more
love, awakening and sweeping up the dust.
The well is bottomless and doesn't show the moon,
the ancients have gone and taken nothing away.
The ivy takes over beneath the winter sky,
and only soot remains, their mark of coffee grounds.
I settle down now to long unravelled dreams.
I love the scum of other people's souls
mixed with the garnet coloured fringes of the chairs,
... more
