Poems Emilie Collyer Poems Emilie Collyer

Where we live

This poem was short-listed in the Williamstown Literary Festival Seagull Poetry Prize:

A woman

hidden under bulging flesh and sallow skin

sprawls in the Westpac ATM alcove

barks out her mantra: 'Got any money?'

 

When I lived in India I had a policy

of giving money to three people each day

This is Footscray

 

Her horizontal pragmatism does not invite conversation

and I don't think she is interested

in attending any community storytelling workshops

 

In the shared back paddock behind our house

there is a tree planting invitation

everyone welcome

 

I wonder

 

The morning of the tree planting

jackhammers blast me from sleep at 6am

busting up bluestone to widen the streets

 

Not sure why this makes me sad

it's not as if I laid it

 

It just seems like a violent

kind of beautification

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Small moments Emilie Collyer Small moments Emilie Collyer

Consequences

The double seat stroller

stands outside a milk bar

 

one seat is intact

the other has been completely

ripped away

 

what did one sibling

do to another

to deserve such an obliterating fate?



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Small moments Emilie Collyer Small moments Emilie Collyer

Easter weekend

family gathers at my house

one niece and three nephews I take a photograph

of them on the couch

transfixed by Shrek 2

 

in their faces and gestures are the teenagers and adults

they will become

they will not remember this day

 

the way we played with the soccer ball in the back yard

the soft autumn air

and how our shadows stretched gentle on the ground



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Small moments Emilie Collyer Small moments Emilie Collyer

A time for napping

On Monday I start a 10 week running regime that my friend Jo sends me. By the end of week 10 I will be able to run for 30 minutes without stopping.

On Wednesday I am feeling great. My second walk/run and I am already building up longer running times. I will be fit and lean. I will bounce with energy.

On Thursday I have an argument with my boyfriend. Then I accidentally slam a door onto my left foot. Toes are strange and still for a while and then come up blue and bruised and twisted.

I accept this is my body's way of telling me that late afternoons in Autumn are for napping, not for running.

 

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Happenings Emilie Collyer Happenings Emilie Collyer

It is autumn

First Sunday morning

where the air smells autumn soft

and grey sky give way to

blue punctuated with Simpsons clouds.

 

By late afternoon my shadow

is so long that cars drive over it

while I am out for a walk.

 

I look down at it stretching

before me and my head

is a long way away.

 

This distance between me and my head

can only be a good thing.

 

While autumn is about nature

getting ready for winter’s sleep

it is the time of year that gives me most hope.

 

This may augur well

for my own twilight years

if I am lucky enough to have them.



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Happenings Emilie Collyer Happenings Emilie Collyer

Feed me ...

I started a feed

so you can read

New Words

in the comfort of your own

in-box

please note: these crumbs have come from between the cracks so cannot be verified for nutritional value.

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World events up close Emilie Collyer World events up close Emilie Collyer

Adelaide Festival

 I am in town

staying 10 floors up

with a view of cranes, cars

and the casino

 

I visit friends with small children

 

Four heads bob

to Play School songs

faces slack with delight

 

Their small white limbs

flail and jerk

clap hands

crocodile jaws

stars in the sky

 

Stomp Stomp!

eyes wide

spittle sprays

dancing is an inalienable right

 

wading through late afternoon

white wine

we cheer them along

affirm their inelegant joy

 

Later that night

I dodge drifting posses

girls with owl eyes

and ironed hair

boys rolling on beer

baggy jeans

and spanking new white runners

 

Across the road

a crowd is frozen

in halted momentum

 

3 bucks tip forward

chests lean

legs scissor

fists clench

explode across the pavement

shouting revenge

 

while the girls

and softer boys

hover

suspended in the burst bubble

of hot night inebriation

over the body

red shirt

cream pants

slumped to one side

he does not move

 

I did not see the punch

but it has split open

the bustling night

of festival city celebration

 

Everywhere I walk in this town

I am knocking against shoulders

and elbows

no-one watches where they walk

At 11pm a line of bobbing bodies

puckered flesh

and slack alco pop mouths

spills out of Hungry Jacks

the mall is littered with

broken glass and abandoned French fries

 

Police on every corner

I count ambulance sirens

1-2-3

 

In the festival club

burlesque acts top off the night

a woman with a black bob

inserts a corkscrew into herself

then stands on her hands

spread her legs

and a red flower pops out the top

of this inverted vase

 

artists and those who like to be associated with artists

sit under fairy lights

dance on wooden boards

drink beer from plastic cups

swanning in their sense

of in-house belonging

 

It is a half hour walk

from the apartment

-where the children are now fighting off bedtime

I leave the mothers alone to deal with that one

their anger as uncensored as their dancing joy

to the festival end of town

 

I walk through the roaming

stumbling groups

who – fifteen, twenty years on from the dancing children

now need to be lubed up to try and find

that uncensored joy

just over the line from

random explosions of anger

 

The boy in the red shirt

lies still

sensible adults wearing linen stride past

ignoring the trauma

not my business

don’t want to get caught in the splash of

blood or dirt

 

The police buzz towards the scene

 

The snapshot starts to dissolve

as I walk past

head down, eyes straight ahead

trying to navigate

a straight line

from the sleeping children

through the unfolding street tragedies

into the place

where a green plastic pass on a lanyard

tells me I belong

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Poems Emilie Collyer Poems Emilie Collyer

Melbourne downpour

 

Melbourne downpour

means it takes everyone

hours to get home

 

I am safe and dry in my car

end of irritating work day

Restless and bored

 

Flicking through radio stations

I select the most popular

commercial drive team

 

There must be

a reason why

millions tune in every day

 

Within twenty minutes

I hear the drive team duo

a recap from breakfast

and a promo for the next show

 

Their voices are

hoppy beer on a hot day

creamy chocolate

a bubble bath for my ears

 

their words are big

fat bright shiny

glowing lies

 

about themselves

about the world

about the intimate

and down to earth relationship

they have with me, the listener

about how similar they are to me

and how far removed they are

from that mendacious

world of celebrity

 

Their lies

are so crunchy and

delectable

that I want to eat them all up

told with such brazen joy

that I long for them

to be true

 

Each lie is worth

more than my day’s entire work

ballooning their already

brimming bank accounts

inflating their already

elephantine egos

 

I drive on

the rain

steaming up

my car

I want to believe them

as much as I wanted to believe

that boy murmuring

sweet lies

in the rain

steaming up

his car

so many years ago

 

We want to believe the lies

but once you arrive

and open the car door

and step outside

you are alone

with only your voice

resounding

 



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Poems Emilie Collyer Poems Emilie Collyer

Thursday Morning

 Driving down Barkly Street

I wait at a red traffic light

and see

two men sitting on a bench

 

One – dark haired

and swarthy wears a blue shirt

leans forward

arms resting on knees

 

The other – blonde

with sweeps of grey

yellow shirt

smokes a cigarette

 

They do not speak

 

Two men of middling years

with lives that carried them

to this Thursday morning

muggy grey summer day aching for rain

 

With lives that will

propel them on again

once this brief pause

in their day is done

 

In my story

they are little more

than featured extras

a snapshot I will carry

            - until the memory fades

 

But for this moment

-         car in neutral foot on brake, waiting to keep moving

they are the perfect shape

of contentment



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Small moments Emilie Collyer Small moments Emilie Collyer

Heat

At the library

a man with

a gaunt face

and stringy black hair

is approached

by a polite

Indian fellow

blue checked shirt

tucked into jeans

 

The first man is

sitting at the computer

terminal that the second

man has booked

 

Outside it is day two

of a Melbourne summer

heat wave

fast approaching

forty degrees

 

Many of us have chosen

the library as shelter

from the angry elements

 

The gaunt man

is not going to move

his face closed and hostile

someone took the computer

where he was going to sit

 

A third man

also Indian

a busy staff member

young and funky in

a Jackson Five t-shirt

diffuses the heat

finds another terminal

for the polite

waiting

fellow

 

In the foyer of the library

a stack of local newspapers

show images of the

memorial service

for a local Indian student

recently murdered

 

No-one in the article

can be sure that the

attack was racially

motivated

 

The melting pot

of Melbourne’s west

always simmers

and can rise to the boil

with violent surprise

 

But today

in this place of respite

things

are

cool



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