Robert Adamson Poems
- Reaching Light Where was it we left him? We say the ...
- My Granny When my granny was dying I’d go into her ...
- Meaning A black summer night, no moon, the thick ...
- Creon's Dream The old hull’s spine shoots out of the ...
- Éventail: For Mery In Paris Writing this in sepia ink on a ...
- The River A step taken, and all the world’s before me. The ...
- The Gathering Light Morning shines on the cowling of the ...
Robert Adamson was born on 17 May 1943 at Neutral Bay, and raised in Sydney, Australia. He was educated at Neutral Bay Primary School and Crows Nest Technical College. His grandfather was a fisherman on the Hawkesbury River to the north of Sydney, where Adamson has lived, on and off, for most of his life. A series of juvenile misdemeanours resulted in him being sent to various detention centres. It was during this period that he first began writing poetry.
Adamson is one of Australia's leading poets, and is a successful writer, editor and publisher. His books have been published in the UK and the USA and his poems have been translated into several languages. He has published ... more »
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Comments about Robert Adamson
Where was it we left him?
We say the journey’s up, but maybe
memory sinks deeper.
Our journey so far
has been quiet, the only
incident being that rock dislodged
as he spun around on his heel.
What was that stuff – brimstone?
The first slice of sunlight glanced off
a slab of dark marble that turned to glow.
His back moved ahead of me –
his curls, shoulders,
that neck. What new bone was he inventing
in his shuffling head, what chance
that a doorway would appear and then a house?
The dark supported me, ...