Kenneth Slessor

(27 March 1901 – 30 June 1971 / Orange, New South Wales)

Kenneth Slessor Poems

41. Pan At Lane Cove 4/1/2010
42. Polarities 4/1/2010
43. Realities 4/1/2010
44. Rubens' Hell 4/1/2010
45. Rubens' Innocents 4/1/2010
46. Sensuality 4/1/2010
47. Serenade 4/1/2010
48. Sleep 1/1/2004
49. Snowdrops 4/1/2010
50. South Country 1/1/2004
51. Stars 4/1/2010
52. Talbingo 4/1/2010
53. Taoist 4/1/2010
54. The Atlas 4/1/2010
55. The Country Ride 4/1/2010
56. The Ghost 4/1/2010
57. The Knife 4/1/2010
58. The Nabob 4/1/2010
59. The Night Ride 4/1/2010
60. The Old Play 4/1/2010
61. Thief Of The Moon 1/1/2004
62. Thieves' Kitchen 4/1/2010
63. To A Friend 4/1/2010
64. To Myself 4/1/2010
65. To The Poetry Of Hugh Mccrae 4/1/2010
66. Toilet Of A Dandy 4/1/2010
67. Trade Circular 4/1/2010
68. Undine 4/1/2010
69. Vesper-Song Of The Reverend Samuel Marsden 4/1/2010
70. Waters 4/1/2010
71. Wild Grapes 4/1/2010
72. William Street 1/1/2004
73. Winter Dawn 4/1/2010
Best Poem of Kenneth Slessor

Five Bells

Time that is moved by little fidget wheels
Is not my time, the flood that does not flow.
Between the double and the single bell
Of a ship's hour, between a round of bells
From the dark warship riding there below,
I have lived many lives, and this one life
Of Joe, long dead, who lives between five bells.

Deep and dissolving verticals of light
Ferry the falls of moonshine down. Five bells
Coldly rung out in a machine's voice. Night and water
Pour to one rip of darkness, the Harbour floats
In the air, the Cross hangs upside-down in water. ...

Read the full of Five Bells

Thief Of The Moon

Thief of the moon, thou robber of old delight,
Thy charms have stolen the star-gold, quenched the moon-
Cold, cold are the birds that, bubbling out of night,
Cried once to my ears their unremembered tune-
Dark are those orchards, their leaves no longer shine,
No orange's gold is globed like moonrise there-
O thief of the earth's old loveliness, once mine,
Why dost thou waste all beauty to make thee fair?

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