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~
When Pharaoh
checked out at the Red Sea,
odd circumstance made a grab for his vacant scepter,

and kingdom collided
with plague to paint a mural
on the palace wall (or maybe, it was the hotel lobby),

of a dreamer's garden,
his wife in veils, her dance a cordial
invitation to a great many unmentionable things,

the feral sky had blown
itself out, and in muted candle
nightshade, the mistress of war disembarked,

and so somewhere
in those upper rooms, ruler
and consort, hearing the sound of running water,

mystified their carnal
senses by infusing themselves
with a little vigorous morphine of the soul

~
One night
I was a werewolf,
but that got out of hand.
One night
you were a peach,
but I preferred fresh
over canned.

The blood scent was strong
and on your collar,
or was it spaghetti sauce?
We meandered in
the lost city of angels,
but those women
in the maternity ward
were better shape-shifters.

Couldn't see if the moon
was full against
the polluted skyline,
(but I bet it wasn't).

Then somewhere
down the tracks,
the howler (that's you),
half a dream away
on some deserted block,
and flat on your back
like a pancake,
with the nightmares
stacking up,
and dripping
with strawberry syrup.

Or was it blood?
(I bet it wasn't).
~
November 2024
HP Poet: Jill
Age: 47
Country: Australia


Question 1: A warm welcome to the HP Spotlight, Jill. Please tell us about your background?

Jill: "Mum and dad immigrated from Northern Ireland to Australia before having my brother and me. I’m very grateful to be living in South Australia on Kaurna Land. My parents were teachers, and they seeded and encouraged my love for education. At university I studied psychology, philosophy, and French. Then I went on to a PhD in psychology, and later, a master’s degree in statistics. In my day job, I’m a psychology professor, which includes lots of scientific writing. Outside work, I love playing music and singing with my partner and our friends and spending time with my precious son and our fluffy dog."


Question 2: How long have you been writing poetry, and for how long have you been a member of Hello Poetry?

Jill: "I’ve been writing poetry on and off for years. The times in my life where I have been most active coincided with having friends who were interested in reading and writing together. In high school, my dear friend and I would watch British comedy shows and write silly, surreal, or nonsense poetry. Our aim was to make each other laugh as much as possible. More currently, I’ve been writing songs with friends, including lyrics, which often start as poems. I joined HP only recently, in August 2024. This community is so generous and supportive, with such a variety of style, depth, and imagination for inspiration and motivation."


Question 3: What inspires you? (In other words, how does poetry happen for you).

Jill: "In many of my poems, I’m trying to make sense of big feelings. I often write about my experiences caring for my parents, who both had close and complex relationships with alcohol. That is a never-ending well for poetry, ranging from trying to process some of the intense events, to exploring what it has meant for my self-concept and mental health. Having said that, sometimes I’m just trying to write something that sounds pretty or might cause someone to smile. I love challenges like BLT's Webster’s Word of the Day – seeing what comes from a single word across different poets."


Question 4: What does poetry mean to you?

Jill: "In my more personal poems I am documenting, reconsidering, and re-investigating my memories, and organising them in nice, even lines, which feels cathartic. In poems, I find that the small or large amount of distance that you can create through imagery, rhyme, or humor makes it possible to explore difficult or even traumatic experiences, thoughts, and feelings. Writing poetry is a transformative exercise, but there is something greater still about sharing poetry with others."


Question 5: Who are your favorite poets?

Jill: "One of my favorite poets is WB Yeats, I particularly love 'The Stolen Child'. Other all-time favorites include Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, AA Milne, Lewis Caroll, Edward Lear, Spike Milligan, Rik Mayall, and Crawford Howard. I also love lyricists like Joni Mitchell, Michael Stipe, Stephen Schwartz, Tim Minchin, Wayne Coyne, Stephen Malkmus, and Rufus Wainright. I have so many favorites on HP – too many to list!"


Question 6: What other interests do you have?

Jill: "I love music. Since childhood, I’ve played violin in classical orchestras and musical theatre pits. I adore Irish folk music. For me, at the moment, music mostly happens with friends, with my electric violin, in pub bands of different kinds. Most of the poems I’ve written previously have only been publicly shared, adapted as song lyrics, with some of these bands. I also love all things science-fiction."


Carlo C. Gomez: “Thank you so much Jill, we truly appreciate you giving us the opportunity to get to know the person behind the poet! We are thrilled to include you in this ongoing series!”

Jill: "Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to be a part of this, Carlo! It is such a privilege."




Thank you everyone here at HP for taking the time to read this. We hope you enjoyed coming to know Jill a little bit better. I most certainly did. It is our wish that these spotlights are helping everyone to further discover and appreciate their fellow poets. – Carlo C. Gomez

We will post Spotlight #22 in December!

~
Let's swim about, Peter
Mimic my sound

Speak my language
You precious bottle-nose

The trouble you have
With the letter M
Sure makes funny bubbles
Beneath the surface

What then should we talk of
This morning?
Miss Kelly, perhaps

Every room
Is an island, my child

Never isolate your love

Let it run to the sea
It's where I will always be
Thomas W. Case's Historical Figure Poetry Challenge, Margaret Howe Lovatt. In the 1960s, she took part in a NASA-funded research project in which she attempted to teach a dolphin named Peter to understand and mimic human speech. This while living in a half-submerged dwelling to have continuous contact with him.
descendants of those left behind,

they found fellowship with

a singularly brutal environment,

free roaming meanderers

of a crepuscular exclusion zone,

having trekked into

the camps of liquidators

to beg for scraps,

they nosed into empty buildings

and found safe places to sleep,

stopping at Café Desyatka

for some borscht,

the guides speak only of

visitor or occupant,

there are no tourists here,

only the genetically distinct
phobic sky
orphic sea
malleable beings
exposed to the atmosphere
can we finally be surfacing?

aliferous dreamscape
living, breathing
particles and waves
sediments that the glacial ice
has carved off the earth
to build their erosion timeline

a memory of us together
collecting stones
touching hands
filigree and shadow metanoia
in the sanctuary where we feel safe

can we finally be surfacing?
coloring inside the lines is impossibly bleak,
with a hissing noise
atomic locomotive
rounds the bend,
extrasensory perception is not
a mindless gift,
it's a train station in the clouds,
tracking all my starting points to you,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.

you leave in opera
with secrets and grievances
under the radar,
and your ready-made
wings catch in the power lines,
you're coiling like smoke
in the arches of my cathedral,
a sense of elegant decay
while sweeping up the debris,
committing arson
with the paraffin of my temporal lobe.

yesterday's fairground waltzes,
ghosted lullabies,
and woodland hymnals,
set in a context not of
resolution and closure,
but of contradiction and assimilation,
break the bond,
away they float on purveyor belts,
one too many molecules,
one too many departures,
always on the surface of everything,
nothing in the middle,
nothing at the end.
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