Biography of Margie Cronin
Margie Cronin, who writes under the name MTC Cronin, was born in Merriwa, New South Wales, in 1963, and grew up at Caloundra, on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast. Following school she went on to the University of Queensland, studying Arts/Law, with a double major in political science. She has also studied at the University of New South Wales, the University of Technology, Sydney, and the University of Sydney. Through most of the 1990s she worked in the field of law, but during this time she also began to establish herself as a poet. More recently, she taught creative writing at the University of Technology, Sydney, and worked on a doctoral thesis exploring the intersections of law and literature. She currently lives on an organic farm in Maleny, Queensland, with her partner and three children.
Cronin began publishing her poetry in the early 1990s, and her work has since appeared in a wide range of Australian and international poetry magazines and literary journals. She published her first collection, Zoetrope: We See Us Moving, in 1995, and has gone on to publish a dozen further collections, in Australia, the UK and the USA. A prolific poet, she has worked within lyric traditions as well as in the prose poem, and in more innovative forms such as that of her long poem More or Less Than 1–100, which won the Victorian Premier’s C. J. Dennis Prize for Poetry (2005) and the South Australian Festival Award for Innovation in Writing (2006). She has also published a volume of critical essays based on her doctoral work, Squeezing Desire Through a Sieve: Micro Essays on Judgement and Justice (2009).
Margie Cronin's Works:
Zoetrope: We see us moving (Five Islands, 1995)
the world beyond the fig (Five Islands, 1998)
Everything Holy (Balcones International Press, 1998)
Mischief-Birds (Vagabond Press, 1999)
Bestseller (Vagabond Press, 2001)
Talking to Neruda's Questions (Vagabond Press, 2001)
My Lover's Back (UQP, 2002)
The Confetti Stone and other poems (Picaro Press, 2002)
beautiful, unfinished (Salt, 2003)
The Flower, the Thing (UQP, 2006)
Our Life is a Box. / Prayers Without a God (Soi 3, 2007)
Notebook of Signs (& 3 Other Small Books) (Shearsman, 2007)
How Does a Man Who is Dead Reinvent His Body? (The Belated Love Poems of Thean Morris Caelli) (Shearsman, 2008)
Irrigations (of the Human Heart) ~ Fictional Essays on the Poetics of Living, Art & Love (Ravenna Press, 2009)
Squeezing Desire Through a Sieve ~ micro-essays on judgement & justice (Puncher & Wattmann, 2009)
Respondiendo a las Preguntas de Neruda in Spanish and English, trans. Juan Garrido Salgado (Safo, 2004)
Controcanto al Libro Delle Domande di Neruda in Italian and English, trans. Hans Kitzmuller (Braitan, 2005)
The Ridiculous Shape of Longing: New and Selected Poems in English and Macedonian, trans. Igor Isakovski (Blesok, 2005)
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Margie Cronin Poems
Seven Mysterious Songs I: Belonging
‘I am looking for sunlight’ I saw your world begin A night of dawns
Seven Mysterious Songs Vi: Authorship
Mountains, valleys, rivers merge The land hides itself in landscape The day’s form buried in my eye
Everyone accepts. ~*~ Someone tells a story comparable to any that's happened. ~*~ A language that survives not being understood.
Anna And The Green Jug
Any girl could seal his poems with her lips; he would call a poem about her 'Anna and the Green Jug' - it's all in the motion, the flux:
Irresistibly changing. I was silly in my mind. A mistake. At first being a child and then trying to be something else
Fool, Imbecile, Thinkhole!
People can think about you even when they can't see you. Remember this the next time your cowardice comes To wind you down. Upholstery doesn't make you a better person
The Specifics Of Love
I love shaking the bones in your arm the humerus, radius and ulna. Some people have such bones –
Seven Mysterious Songs Vi: Conduit
Water, water song my body flows with thoughts and blood
Seven Mysterious Songs V: Fortuity (Shee...
One excuse was to say I forgot the time (or you simply ran out of time)
Seven Mysterious Songs Iv: Contrapositio...
‘What is there here but weather, what spirit Have I except it comes from the sun?’
Seven Mysterious Songs Iii: Sleep
Sleep, like peaches fallen to the ground (hand pressed to the
Seven Mysterious Songs Ii: Loneliness
Where am I going with this pain Marvellous for a lot of things – for climbing walls – and crawling scalps
Lindsay The Persimmon
He climbed a persimmon tree And became a persimmon For four and half hours And when they came
The fog in these mountains is a reminder of how far up our feet are when they are on the ground.
I was silly in my mind. A mistake. At first being a child and then trying to be something else. I really should have kept the red blocks and the two plastic funnels that fitted so perfectly over my forearms and hands. Later, when I could no longer run in circles, I even gave up screaming.
The world, of course, is never bothered with silence.