As you can tell, Brisbane is bubbling with poets… this time around I caught up with Lee-Anne Davie.
What excites you about poetry?
For me, poetry is the architecture of words. I enjoy the ambiguity of words to create different dimensions to intended imagery, allowing a layered effect to what appears an honest and simple selection of words. I am in awe of poetic verse where the poem remains simple and beautiful, yet evokes a kaleidoscope of colour, depth and purpose for its reader.
What are the themes that interest you / that you like to explore in your own writing?
I am drawn to themes such as nature, weather, places, landscape, but find that I am happy to write about almost anything. I’m happy to toy with words and phrases to develop something interesting. I am inspired by visual art, such as photography, to incite my imagination. In offering this information, this is how I feel right now. Since embarking on learning about my style and developing words through workshops and spoken word opportunities, I am finding my poetry interests widening and the more I explore poetry, the more I am inspired towards different styles. I view this learning as a progressive development.
Charles Bukowski once said, ‘poetry is what happens when nothing else can.’ How does a poem happen for you?
At times I am inspired to write a poem following a simple comment in passing conversation. At other times I am inspired by what I see and the events around me, and am likely to reflect and draw from my own experiences. I find clarity with composition when I first wake in the morning, and so could commence a line, which could develop then or wait until I have more time.
Their arrival consumed our evening
Brutal clouds alarmed the sky and
Cassie’s kennel lay empty
We found her whelping in torch-light
Desperately unloading her tiny missiles
Into the dugout below the hand made trailer
Lying gutted in the corner of the yard
Before her time she’d popped them
One by one into the scratched out ditch
Between bluestone and rubber
While thunder whaled across the blackened sky
Her tongue licked the slime from their sealed bodies like an elixir
Nuzzling them to her swollen belly
They hung from her milking machines
Torpedoing down for the fattest, she suckled them all
Not even the bolt from the fuming sky
Could shift her from that place
But Dad did
With soft towels spread on star speckled lino
Dad gently carried mother’s drenched body
Into the night’s sun room
Ears pricked like beacons
We followed closely carrying two small protests each
Pint-sized pup pulsed wildly tuning to locate their sonar
Lowered they scrambled blindly littering the floor
Clambering like shell-less turtles until six became one
I have enjoyed words and their composition since studying English and Literature at school. For more than two decades life and career seem to have arrested opportunities to write poetry and literature, and it has been all too easy to excuse the lack of writing for a lack of time. However, I have consciously decided to reignite my enjoyment to write poetry and make the time. Workshops and spoken word opportunities here in Brisbane have allowed me to have my poetry critiqued in a safe and trusting environment, which will add to my development in future compositions.