Issue 3 features poets emerging and experienced. The published poems showcase a variety of themes and styles—the lyric being most popular. Lite Lit One thinks the diversity parallel the condition of our times, with frequent use of nature or natural imagery as the dominant poetic theme.
Amber Toon makes her debut with a poem about the body; the way it can be ‘an archive’, or a ‘scar in itself’. Themes of religion and spirituality, or lack thereof are cast in Amirah Al Wassif’s poems. ‘If you give me your eyes’ is both tight and loose, and cleverly littered with literary misdemeanours forcing us to question the way the poem ought to be read. This poem is juxtaposed with beautiful imagery of the speaker’s mother cooking on the roof of her house—perhaps a metaphor for mother nature’s (in)ability to provide food for all.
Ben Adams, a Friendly Street poet, apologises to Charles Bukowski, for his poem addressed to the ‘climate sceptics, conspiracy theorists, newscorp hacks and you’. The truncated lines serve to enhance the rhythm of its structure, bringing us home to a ‘new world order’. Perhaps a revolutionary in our wake?
Leila Lois engages her reader with attention to detail of ‘sleeping rainbow serpents’ in the endless cycle of birth and rebirth, and unpredictability of the natural world. Allan Lake’s ‘Blue Hole’ reminds us of the power of words, or even a single letter, to make a poem stand out. Colin James ‘absorbs the infinite’, nude, in ‘the forty something summer skinny’. Les Wicks’ ‘Careen’ is a powerful vision of humanity’s destiny: ‘A sea of wheat / becomes a sea of blood’; written by a sceptic of our fate.
Sam Dover’s evocative poem does not seek answers, yet fill us with passion; ‘Lips all bloody rouge with Shiraz’; a sobering fog in the wake of the next morning . It is in stark contrast of Linh Tran’s elegant poem of ‘People disappearing into Walls’. So, we question. Where do they go? Zee Fu’s ‘I am’ spans her lifetime of struggle ‘being corrected’ to be called the right pronoun. She is ‘this, that them’; a ‘valiant’ stride for ‘existence’. Courtney Thomson buries ‘memory deep’ with a ‘portrait’ left hanging ‘on a nail’, of a man who has ‘unearth(ed)’ her ‘breath’.
Kelsie Colclough writes of ‘the poor’—'dirt in their lungs’—politicians who do not do enough for them. And solidarity in Hamish McGee’s ‘Breaker Morant’, his rhyming diction…’poet’s craving for immortality’, ‘entreat(ing) the ‘Architect Divine’ to ‘forgive us, evermore’.