Poetry Review

October 10, 2024October 10, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 4 Comments

There is a fabulous extensive review by Sean Wayman in this month’s October Quadrant Magazine of my two recent poetry collections, ‘The Cellist a Bellydancer & Other Distractions’ and ‘Flat White, One Sugar ‘.

For example he writes: “… there are still many poets who resist the temptations of narcissistic self-righteousness. Libby Sommer, a prolific Australian writer of fiction and poetry, eschews the moral posturing of the ideologically pure poet to cultivate an aesthetic that is observant, curious and open to experience.”

“… it is the give-and-take between openness and particularity which give her poems their unique charisma.”

“… “‘Transience’, like many of her most beautiful passages, combines sunlight, water, and open expanses of sky:

A luminous, tangerine, and blazing expanse
burst out to the left of the blue
from the harbour to the city as the western light
lowered itself behind concrete high-rises.”

If you’d like to read the full review, Quadrant Magazine is available in newsagents and online. My books can be ordered from Ginninderra Press or from other online booksellers.

https://www.ginninderrapress.com.au/store.php?catalog/search/Libby+Sommer/date/1

Photos by Jason Painter

My Poem, Electioneering on the Mall

September 21, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ Leave a comment

Have a read of my poem, ‘Electioneering on the Mall’ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘Electioneering on the Mall’ is one of the pieces in my recently released second poetry collection, ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘ (Ginninderra Press}.

I hope you enjoy it.

Electioneering On the Mall:

Actually, I know which party

I will not be voting for.

I am a true blue Australian

hammered by our land of droughts

and flooding rains.

When it’s election

broadcast blackout time

I breathe a sigh of relief.

What? Please move so I can get by.

Yes, I know about early voting.

No, you won’t get me to

swing a different way.

My Poem, “A Refuge”

September 4, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 1 Comment

Have a read of my poem, “A Refuge” written during the pandemic and first published in Quadrant Magazine. “A Refuge” is one of the poems in my recently released second collection titled “Flat White, One Sugar” (Ginninderra Press).

A Refuge:

Do you know, St Honoré Bakery,

your large black & white floor tiles

show the exact space for Social Distancing?

Your blackboard menu out front

flags passage to the shopping centre.

Surely sophisticated French indulgences

upstage all else inside,

your gateaux worthy of any Parisian patisserie:

flaky puff pastry, velvety cream,

bite-sized choux balls.

But where are you on Sunday mornings, St Honoré,

when the early cyclists ride past?

Your door is closed, your ovens unlit.

Here come gumboots & wet umbrellas

as we all live through wild weather

– back-to-back La Niñas –

and teachers from across the road arrive

in shoes with stiletto heels.

Don’t we all need a dry haven

from unrelenting winter storms?

East of the city, weather-eroded beaches

promise summer sunshine

for our light-deprived eyes.

As the ocean comes up to the land,

we hope these beaches don’t disappear.

There’s blue sky to wish for

in a gap in the clouds.

St Honoré, patron saint of bakers

& pastry cooks, I think I’m addicted to you.

I’m wondering, will your baking give

hope & warmth today?

My Poem, ‘On the Path’

August 17, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 11 Comments

I hope you enjoy it.

On the Path:

It’s green out here.

There are cliffs with straight up-and-down faces,

high-rise breeding havens for mud nesters.

I’m wanting to know

what the birds have to teach us,

but their calls are intermittent,

faint and repetitive, shrill and squawking.

I gaze over the cliffs and across the valley,

a sacred mountain range turned blue

by forests of eucalyptus, where tourists

of every colour crowd the lookouts.

Are they seeking spiritual wisdom

from the mighty mountains?

I would like to know how a lyrebird

learns its complex songs,

or how to laugh heartily like a kookaburra.

We could find vantage points

above daisies and banksias,

butterflies and mountain devils.

On this bush track – the signposted path

to a waterfall – down steps made of logs,

a man stops unexpectedly in front of me.

He squeezes and inhales the leaf of a tea tree.

I too am a believer in the healing power

of plants and in mythical mountains

and holy pilgrimages.

A majestic wedge-tailed eagle

whistles a soft peal

before soaring above us.

The sound of the waterfall

draws me onward.

My Poem, “When Will It End?”

July 31, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 6 Comments

I hope you like it.

When Will It End?

The woman is weeping for her husband,

his ashes lined up with the unclaimed

urns at the crematorium.

How could this happen again?

The man is weeping for his dead wife

& unborn child stretchered out from

the bombed maternity hospital.

The woman says, “We had to flee. His ashes

were left behind.”

What use is a city of rubble?

The brother is weeping beside his mother at the grave

of his twin. The brothers had strapped on fatigues,

taken up weapons, knowing they may die—sons,

brothers, husbands & fathers.

Each day the mind grapples: no power,

no water, starvation,

but Ukrainians, bigger than their fears,

face the Goliath. Church bells ring

calling the world to stand beside them.

Look at this man in body armour on the news

saying farewell to his wife and child.

Last week a teacher of children, today a soldier,

when will he see his school again?

My Poem, ‘Transience’

July 16, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 14 Comments

Have a read of my poem, ‘Transience’ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘Transience’ is one of the poems in my second collection titled ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘ (Ginninderra Press).

I hope you enjoy it.

Transience:

A luminous, tangerine, and blazing expanse

burst out to the left of the blue

from the harbour to the city as the western light

lowered itself behind concrete high-rises.

We watched from the hill,

took a seat on the park bench,

the lawn with its after-the-rain moistness

too wet to lie back on.

We knew we had to seize

this fleeting moment.

We were spectators of that sensational

display, after enduring the restrictions

that made us change and mutate,

shape-shifting during the months,

then the years, of the pandemic,

wearing us down, teaching us

adapt, adapt, adapt,

change, change, change.

Today we search for the brilliance

unfolding in the sky.

My Poem, ‘Breaking Out’

July 4, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ Leave a comment

Have a read of my poem ‘Breaking Out’, first published in the Canberra Times Panorama Arts Section. ‘Breaking Out’ is one of the poems in my recently released second collection titled ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘ (Ginninderra Press).

I hope you enjoy it.

Breaking Out

See that white terrace house?

You could live in the attic there.

Yes, I like an eyrie, looking

out on the world. I wanted to be locked

in a tower, a princess in a fairy tale,

when I was a child.

I’m still the girl dreaming of breaking out.

Maybe she’s learnt to abseil now.

Some terraces have small colourful gardens

at the front. I prefer fragrant cut flowers

in a vase. I belong to

that discreet sect of law-breakers

who snip buds over a fence. A close escape

gives me an adrenaline kick.

My Poem, ‘What Happened to the Sun’

June 17, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 6 Comments

Have a read of my poem ‘What Happened to the Sun‘ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘What Happened to the Sun‘ is one of the poems in my debut poetry collection ‘The Cellist, a Bellydancer & Other Distractions‘ (Ginninderra Press).

I hope you enjoy it.

What Happened to the Sun:

We took that hot ball of glowing gases

at the heart of our solar system for granted,

so much intense energy and heat

bearing down on green city spaces

when she went out to walk the dog,

winter warmth brightening her face. Sometimes

under a large red gum she stopped

to watch a mother and son

play cricket or an elderly tennis player

limp towards the courts, ‘No running

today, eh?’ calls out his opponent. ‘I’ll keep

the ball on your forehand.’

Difficult to stay upbeat sometimes

when you see so much change. You

wish for things to be how they were before,

nourished by moon on water,

first stars, mountains, ocean,

a dog pulling on a lead under a bright sky,

beneath a cache of clouds,

wanting the time before,

before polar bears were in danger,

when, ignorantly, you basted your skin

in coconut oil on the hot sand,

before we were all bound by rules,

distanced in unusual ways

burning in the sun side by side

on a crowded beach.

Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

My Poem, ‘Words’

June 3, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 2 Comments

Have a read of my poem ‘Words’ first published in Quadrant Magazine. ‘Words’ is part of my second poetry collection ‘Flat White, One Sugar’ (Ginninderra Press) published earlier this year.

I hope you enjoy it.

Words:

Belly expansions and contractions,

turning our attention to sensations,

we remember the three things you said:

breathe light, breathe slow, breathe deep.

We take control. Above us

the air conditioner hums.

At your own pace,

no need to rush.

Next door a conference

of 43 dentists learn

sensation management.

I swallow the urge to laugh.

A full exhale,

let it all go.

Your words give comfort

as they enter the gaps

between in and out,

slowing down.

Everything will

be just fine.

Afterwards, the morning looks different.

Good work everyone.

Well done.

We roll up our mats,

head for our cars –

safe from the pain,

for now.

Photo by Negative Space on Pexels.com

My Poem ‘Twisted Tea’

May 21, 2024 ~ Libby Sommer ~ 7 Comments

Have a read of my poem ‘Twisted Tea’ first published in ‘For Ukraine: By Women of the World‘, a collection of powerful poetry and prose by all who identify as women about Russia’s invasion of Ukraine led by Russia’s President, Vladimir Putin.

I wrote the poem in 2022. ‘Twisted Tea’ is also one of the poems in my second poetry collection titled ‘Flat White, One Sugar‘, Ginninderra Press.

I hope you enjoy it.

Twisted Tea:

I splattered the last of my favourite

loose leaf tea all over the floor today,

when I lost my grip on the lid.

Twisted Oolong produced in Ukraine

it said on the label.

But it is a time of such sadness,

a spilt canister of loose leaf

is hardly worth mentioning.

So many shattered tea sets