David Brooks

Rating: 4.33
Rating: 4.33

David Brooks Poems

on the way to a meeting at Batemans
I glimpse a lyrebird
on the edge of the Mt Agony road

I dreamt I was a tree
covered with strange fruit.
Well, no, I lie:
there was no dream,

My father spent most of his adult life
working for the Commonwealth Public Service, shunting files
from one end of his long desk to the other.
When he died he left half-written

Leaving the town in the mountains
after seven years’ exile from his native province
the old poet meets a woman one third his age,
the most beautiful he has ever seen in this place.

To cut
a mango
one takes a sharp, pointed knife
and slices lengthwise

<i>for Richard Exner</i>

dwells on apocalypse

It was coming

the cold front
and the complex weather

In late summer
I feel the chill again
the first marauding
from the high plateau

I dream of myself
asleep upon a hillside,
those huge black bees – cmrlje –
emerging from the

Leave your house, rise
from the table
where the candles have guttered
and a blue light

On the pond path by Campbell’s
amidst the wheel-ruts and the fallen leaves
a gap nothing fills

I go out to see Chloe, for the first time in ages,
and find her pacing the driveway,
looking ten years older
and even more exhausted than she is.


You know how
just before we die
our whole life is supposed
to flash before our eyes?

My panther is active tonight,
hungry, intent,
nobody’s business but her own

Our Father
who art in heaven
stay there
and we’ll stay down here

There’s a species of
grey and white pigeon
in Glebe, New South Wales,
that lies on its back in the roadway


Why should the cosmos, hearing
one thing
complaining against another,
take notice,


After we had paid the singer,
and the guests had gone
and we had cleared away the food and the glasses,
I went outside again

Jessica, riding
up and down on her tricycle,
the dog
sniffing at his empty bowl,

When I look back
over the past few years
and think that almost every day
has had its own new worry

David Brooks Biography

David Gordon Brooks is an Australian author. He graduated from the Australian National University in 1974. He married Alison Summers in 1975. Brooks and Summers then studied abroad and received their M.A. degrees from the University of Toronto. Brooks completed his Ph.D from the University of Toronto after returning to Australia in 1981 while teaching at the Royal Military College, Duntroon located in Canberra. In 1982 he began teaching at the University of Western Australia in Perth, where he met the poet Nicolette Stasko, who became his partner for the next twenty years. In 1986 he returned to the Australian National University as a lecturer, a post he held for the next four years. Brooks currently is an associate professor of Australian Literature at the University of Sydney. He married the Slovenian translator and photographer Teja Pribac in 2005. He is a co-editor, along with Elizabeth McMahon, for Southerly, Australia's oldest literary magazine. His novel, The Fern Tattoo, was shortlisted for the 2008 Miles Franklin Award. He is a vegan.)

The Best Poem Of David Brooks

The Lyrebird

on the way to a meeting at Batemans
I glimpse a lyrebird
on the edge of the Mt Agony road
gone as soon as I notice it

I slow down
and look at the place where it entered
but there is nothing,
the bird
become dry branch, scrub-

writing this down
I wonder what part of the self it is
hides amongst language

– looking at
these words, this
trying to find where I entered.

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