the beat of a distant rhythm
You can call it an illusion, a trick of stage lighting.
Or perhaps it was fatigue that created this moment. Hamer Hall. October 2001.
Paul Kelly on stage.
His gray hair, which seems to be rare, is close-cropped.
His face was gaunt and his eyes were blurred.
He has been like this for years, but until now, in the late stages of the concert, for some reason, maybe just my blink of an eye, I think the songwriter is similar to one of Australia\'s most popular writers.
When Kelly sang and played, I remembered a writer whose work had been re-created
Released many times and their books were high
Students at least 30 years in school.
I have two places in my head for the rest of the concert.
I\'m listening to Kelly\'s words and music, but I\'m also thinking about the season\'s condolences that I was introduced to Bruce Daway in 1976.
In the last year of high school, I also studied Shakespeare. H. Lawrence, T. S.
Elliott, George Jackson, Alexander solzheniqin, Anton Chekov, and Samuel Beckett.
None of their words are as real as Dawe (
Although Chekov and Beckett still resonate).
I love his familiarity with the life cycle of football poetry, Katrina\'s tenderness and monologue on one\'s death, the rhythm and anger of the Vietnam War --
I scribbled my notes in a wide range of condolences.
With Bruce Springsteen, Bob Dylan, Skyhooks, J. , Dawe quickly became a hero for teenagersD.
Selinger and Joseph Heller
The book goes from the bag to the backpack on the ride, all the way to the glove box of my first car.
On the day I got married, a friend of mine read \"suburban people\".
Dawe is a source of inspiration for an inexperienced poet.
So many poems so close to home.
So when I got up and applauded Kelly at the concert, I probably also got up and applauded Dawei.
In the weeks after the concert, I went to find common ground between the two.
What I want is not just a tired blink, but a pull them together.
Although I \'ve seen Kelly play many times, I \'ve only seen Dawe once, which was at a reading session at the Carringbush Library in early 1980.
I asked a question about the writing process and he answered an analogy about repairing and assembling motorcycles.
But even then, despite several articles published, I may have lost the thread of poetry (
Including tribute to Dawe).
I remember cutting the poem to their bare bones until there was nothing on the page.
I brought one of the advantages of simplicity and poetry to its end.
When I was a teenager, I thought that the things that would last my life had been greatly reduced. 20s.
This is a way to discover that poetry is not my form after all.
What I am looking for is the river of prose, not the rumbling of poetry.
Almost no mourning has been read for this season.
Except for the most important time.
Listen to the record and go to the band and it\'s easier for a man to sing songs of the St. Kilda, MCG and Nylex logos.
About other people\'s houses, about deeper water.
About winter clothes and foggy highways
About the jungle fire and the beach.
About love, sex and desire.
In the filing cabinet I studied, there is a manila folder marked with the name written in black texta.
Every folder is a newspaper article I collect about writers, singers, directors: John Clark, Matthew Condon, Jacques Tati, Rich Lee Jones, Garrison ·And many more.
In the Bruce Dawe folder, I found the article for 1980, including black-and-
A white photo of a man with little hair and gaunt face.
A 1992 article says Dawe has \"big ears, black --
The skull of Cornwall, a pair of fierce eyes staring at you from the sunken eye socket \".
I thought this was what I saw in hammerhall on October?
Is this a man\'s face? His work has become so big in my life?
Read the Dawe and Kelly folders again
Learned that they worked as odd jobs when they were young, wrote many articles in style and form, and analyzed their words by scholars;
Their careers were officially praised by their peers.
A review of dayway\'s poetry can also be a simple review of Kelly\'s song: \"His value lies in his extensive interest, his compassion, his keen eyes watched us often fall to the best level. . .
His narrative style is full of wry observation, bittersweet mood and great appeal. . .
\"Given that Dawe and Kelly are popular writers, it\'s not surprising that these basic similarities.
While I don\'t expect a direct connection, that\'s exactly what I\'m hoping.
Then, in the article at the age of 1989
I found out that the students: \"rock musician and Australian football lover Paul Kelly had a concert and read Davey\'s poem life cycle.
This article is about Dawe, not Kelly, who has not yet become high-
Through his lyrics book, The School course won\'t let me start talking.
After this discovery, I went through the poetry of the 1983 edition of Dawe, which is sometimes joyful.
I could have looked through my shabby mourning, but I don\'t want to see any more of my teenage comments.
I want a new start.
I want to imagine DAVEI\'s work through Kelly\'s music. (
A few years ago, when Billy Prague and the Wilco band incorporated Woody Gersley\'s words into the music, it seemed to work. )
I must be patient.
You can\'t rush to read a poem, especially if you \'ve been away from form for a long time.
Slowly, I began to hear the poems again, just like the ones I read for the first time in 1976.
I imagine Kelly creating a harsh melody for the Homecoming Festival.
I heard him playing with the prison alphabet as a companion to his own making gravy, the story of a prisoner coming home to write at Christmas.
I heard him turn Katrina on and off in a low voice, a touching hymn dedicated to a young daughter.
From time to time I delete some manila folders in the filing cabinet to make room for my own efforts.
I have said goodbye about Graham Green, Catherine manesley, Joyce Carol Oates, Louis Mahler, Paul Simon, William Faulkner, Elizabeth Jolly
If I want to rediscover these people, I will find the source directly: book, movie, or album.
Of course, some folders will not be removed.
Last year, I moved the bookshelf back and forth while painting the corridor.
Inevitably, I came across this season\'s mourning, and its torn green spine exposed the binding of 120 pages of the book.
I looked at the cover of it and the black was very eye-catching. and-
White font, try not to stay too long so as not to finish the painting.
I still read the book from time to time, in those times when I need to remind me why I started writing, those times when writing doesn\'t seem to be a waste, then at least a dream that has never been realized.
In the seasons when it looks like the river will dry up.
I found condolences on the shelf.
The inspiration once turned into redemption.
It\'s called the life cycle.
Paul Kelly\'s cd?
I don\'t play much, but I don\'t have.
My teenage daughter is almost the last year of high school.
Introduce me to Kelly\'s back catalogue for over a year.
This is also a life cycle.