Martin Harrison Poems
|4.||"Thoughts spoken out loud...."||12/20/2016|
|5.||Two-Part Variations for Stuart Cooke||12/20/2016|
|8.||Walking Back From The Dam||5/8/2012|
|10.||Yachts At Scotland Island||5/8/2012|
|11.||A Patch Of Grass||5/8/2012|
|13.||Bronzewings With Lightning||5/8/2012|
|15.||February Night Song||5/8/2012|
|16.||First Glance At A Walking Party, Barrington Tops, C.1895||5/8/2012|
|18.||Ode In April||5/8/2012|
|19.||On The Traditional Way Of Painting||5/8/2012|
|20.||Paddock At Yengo||5/8/2012|
|24.||Songs And Verses||5/8/2012|
|25.||Stopping For A Walk In Reserved Land Near Murra Murra||5/8/2012|
|26.||The Red Gum||5/8/2012|
|27.||A Lecture On Focus||5/8/2012|
Comments about Martin Harrison
A Lecture On Focus
All water is dusk, or light blenched. A mauve shade,
some water is so large it fills up the lens,
becoming mere thought occurring here or there
as if in a place which was chosen for it,
on a surface, in a container, inside an edge.
Close-up, green bars of water greet an eye blinking
as it turns transparent, partial, on moving skin.
Here a body lunges on, diminishing, in shocks.
Some water is a mask, the cover of a cave
which has no walls and which flows, unawares,
round points, indentations, grooves, visages.
Surfacing faces look out like people in a ...
That half-open amber eye fixed on you,
the woman in the kitchen half turning to you —
drowsy tonight, you take in the angles
of chairs, walls, old photos, a painted vase.
There, a heron’s stillness helps it vanish,
wading by a wind-flecked lake.
Outside, car-noise glistening after early rain.
Night’s silence builds its inner ear.