New Poetry Book- What The Poemster Found

I am very pleased to announce the release of my third poetry anthology- What The Poemster Found -poems from places poets roam'

The poems in this new collection capture real-life experiences while exploring past events and numerous small moments. Among the poems gathered inside the pages of this anthology, I light heartedly reflect upon the untimely death of Brutus the Budgerigar. I also share some wheel bad news, the ride of the sky witch, the sad tale of Norman Neets, some secret conversations around a kitchen table, and all the reasons why science rocks. This is just the start of a joyful jaunt through the places poets roam.

What The Poemster Found does deliver some fun verse hopefully providing a rollicking journey through the far reaches of this poet’s inspiration. However, I have also tried to balance the humour with some quite deliberate attempts to provoke thought about issues, for as Nikki Grimes, American poet said so importantly:

'Children are emotionally and mentally complex human beings. Don’t limit their poetry exposure to humour. They deserve a more varied poetry menu than that.’

The word 'Poemster' was gifted to me by a small boy in a school near the city of Adelaide. I was sitting outside the main office waiting to be taken to meet a group of young poets, when a boy wandered past and stared intently at me before asking, 'Hey mister, are you the poemster?'  The rest is history. 'Poemster' is now forever immortalized in the title of my book. 

Here is a tasting from my new book

Opposite Positions

I think the opposite of skinny

Is the bottom on my Auntie Minnie

What is the opposite of dark?

A flashlight beam- bold and stark

What is the opposite of fit?

Someone who prefers to sit

The opposite of sweet, I think

Are my brother's shoes-they really stink

The opposite of underwear

Are the clothes on top, we wear out there

The very opposite of happy

Is someone cranky, nasty, snappy

It's screaming, yelling, don't come near

It's go away, don't want you here

The very opposite of morning

Is late at night when I start yawning

It's darkness falling around

When nightfall covers all the ground

And if purple has an opposite

I'm certain I can't think of it.

The Ride of the Sky Witch 
(For Walter de la Mare)

Upon her broom a witch goes riding.

Cloaked in darkness,

Dipping, gliding.

Away she sweeps across the sky.

All cackle and howl,

And mournful cry.

In the gathering evening gloom.

She hovers in shadows,

And swoops with her broom.

Spells are muttered to the darkened sky

And then with a whoop,

Away she will fly.

Along the laneway, through the street

Her evening ride,

Is short and sweet.

A final swoop above the town

Then homeward bound,

Her broom heads down.

Never the Whole Family

Rummaging through a box of old photographs
Images from the growing years
My days of greyscale memories
Snapped with stories attached.

Images from the growing years
My sister, me and a kangaroo
Mum and Dad at Blackburn Lake.

My days of greyscale memories
Seated on my father’s lap
Mum holding my sister, the baby.

Snapped with stories attached
Subgroups of a larger family

Never the complete set.


Wants and Needs

Danny wants an X-Box
Shani wants a bike
Kelly wants some high top sneakers that constantly glow in the dark
Khalil wants his mother to stop crying

Michelle wants a holiday in a tropical resort
Charlie wants new soccer boots –bright, shiny red
Olivia wants a new laptop computer
Khalil wants the bombs to stop falling on his town

Mandy wants a basketball
Joel a new CD
Max wants a motorbike and a new wetsuit

Khalil wants to spend a night without wailing sirens

All poems by  Alan j Wright