Joanne Burns
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joanne burns is a writer of poetry, including prose poems; short fictions; and monologues. Over a dozen collections of her work have been published. Her most recent poetry collection an illustrated history of dairies Giramondo Publishing 2007 was shortlisted for the 2008 NSW Kenneth Slessor Poetry Prize. kept busy, a cd recording of joanne burns reading a selection of her work, was produced by River Road Press, also in 2007. A new collection of her work ‘amphora’ will be published by Giramondo Publishing in 2010. She lives in Sydney.
answer for Tatjana Lukic
death
a fine gold corridor
you float down on an
early sunday morning –
your big day out – then lift
to somewhere like a butterfly
that’s shed her latinations,
into the hums, the whirrings,
sussurations, drifts of astral
air
you will appear and reappear
i hear the rhythms of your
words as you disappear into
the here and there and every
where, new breaths streaming
with the shimmer of your colours,
no ‘little silly things’, you wear
the big things now [with flair]
thought waves its love in every
colour
August 13th 2008
note: ‘little silly things’ was Tatjana’s description of artworks she was making, mentioned in an email on July 30th 2008
ladoo
could this be a poem
of four hands like ganesha
the hindu god who has that
many [or even fourteen]
ganesh ganapati elephant
god of good fortune wisdom
removal of obstacles sweet god of
writers, a kind of spiritual teddy
bear though never close enough for
a hug; he has his hands full with serious
things eyes black pools of a potent mind,
an elephant buddha not snuggleup bear
remover of obstacles desire & pain, one hand
holds an axe the next a whip; one hand for a blessing,
that lotus in the other realising itself: he’s a handy man
no nails required, a bundle of gifts with a generous belly
that absorbs protects, a mini-phleroma a gnostic ganesh
riding his mouse, this tiny mooshikam, what does it
mean: smart rodent assistant sniffing cryptic gems,
a too proud egomind needing gee’s stewardship –
a pantry of meaning, in the mythopoeisis nook;
from all accounts gee likes a ladoo or four, something
sweet to suck on as he listens for clues with those
capacious ears, vivekananda [before there were two]
i like ganesh best when he stands, one foot raised
above the ground, a fuller measure of his grace; my
unopened ganesh jigsaw puzzle gave me no obstacles
when it sat for two years below three brass figures of
his dancing self, the pieces slipped together quicker
than the washing up; he reclines on the table lit
by the shine of five ghee lamps; if you used his image
as a coaster or a placemat would he stop you eating or
drinking too much, would he take you to task –
what a task he completed with his missing tusk,
as scribe of vyasa’s vast mahabharata, in his rush
to get started snapping a tusk off to use as a pen, he
never paused for a break – a true ur god
no seventh day of rest