Martini with fruit,

August 2, 2008 at 6:01 pm | Posted in writing | 15 Comments

At the centre of Australia is a vast red desert and at its edges an endless blue ocean. The desert emanates light and in the evening the ground is warmer than the sky.The desert is a ruby, my love, set in a delicate chain of emerald isles surrounded by a gentle sea. And I am perched here on the edge waiting for the light to flee,
what’s that, some fantastical machine? no no, mate not right now, I am trying to write something beautiful, I am surrounded by a gorgeousity and a little embarrassed at the poverty of my gift
but I figure if everything rhymes,
now where was I, that’s right, like a strawberry covered in morning dew,


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  1. like a strawberry covered in morning dew
    freshly picked from the orchard in the back
    the corner of her lips turn up
    in a knowing smile with
    redness and moisture
    it is almost ruby-like
    that is beautiful,Aefiel,

  2. yep, you got me.
    whoops, sorry,

  3. like a strawberry covered in morning dew.

    I’m kinda inclined not to say anymore, you said it yourself so perfectly. a wonderful piece, written with love, a love for your land, and for the love of everything.
    Peter, time is not linear, hahahappy birthdayayayayayayayay,

  4. ohh! What a beautiful and sensuous piece, like a strawberry covered in morning dew itself!

    I am surrounded by a gorgeousity and a little embarrassed at the poverty of my gift

    Quite a contradictory sentence there, because “I am surrounded by gorgeousity” epitomizes quite the opposite of the poverty of your gift – which is anything but poor.

    Fantastical piece indeed. a story within a story, starting with a gravity and ending inside the mind of the creator of that gravity…
    Sumedh, your comment is as lovely as one of your flowers, thankyou,

  5. ROTFL 😀 😀 … beauty is in the eye of the blind ?

  6. love this, Paul … very sparkling and strawberry-in-cheek … that centre dialogue … guys, eh? *heh … this is a smiling gorgeousness and rich, not poor at all …
    thankyou, Shell,

  7. I couldn’t resist a visit after that alluring comment. I took the first plane over and am glad I did. This is such a stunning image of a place so startling in its beauty that many of us in other parts of the world had no idea. You may think your gift is impoverished, but I could paint a painting based on this poem, which would be impoverished compared to your poem. The ruby, the emerald, I have never seen that together. I have seen deserts emanating light, but I have never thought of the ground warmer than the sky, though I have experienced that as well. A poet’s job, in part, is to make us more deeply experience what we already experience. We are all impoverished, however miraculous, tiny creatures in the magnificenceof it all. But your gift impoverished? I don’t think you’d generate these loving however humanly impoverished comments if it were. As for this description of a part of the world specific to you, I had always hoped you would write about that, give us a poetic tour of your land and culture through the eyes of your gifts. I have always wanted to know more about Maoris, for example, and will never forget that image from, I believe “The Right Stuff” or some other astronaut movie, where Maoris send up magical fire sparks into the sky that fly around the spaceship like fireflies. Incredibly magical image of sophisticated science. OK, a rare comment, but a long, thoughtful, sincere one. Orhan Pamuk’s Snow uses the metaphor of snow in an equally mesmerizing way, and that’s what I’m reading right now.
    Thankyou, Gloria. That is a most schplendiferous comment. I will treasure it and come back here often to try to remember. I don’t really feel qualified to write about indigenous cultures, but there are some fantastic Maori (who are from New Zealand) writers and artists and at the moment there is a real blossoming of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander art, a whole generation of elders and young people’s youth and energy and hope, writers, filmmakers, painters, musicians. I might do a series featuring them. You are amazing, thankyou,

  8. i want to go there and watch the moon come up and hold your hand you are sweeter than a sugar berry
    dipped in dew
    that sounds lovely,

  9. i love the beginning and how you break out of it for a moment of reflection only to seamlessly to go right back to your wonderful poetry. love aefiel’s continuation too.
    Lissa! Me too,

  10. This martini is best when read out loud, neither shaken nor stirred. You pull me back into the love of writing, exactly what my soul needs, i am awash in color and sound, thank you,
    thankyou, get better soon,

  11. your description of the land is a striking metaphor to the woman in the poem. alive and breathing. you chasing the light.

    simply beautiful, mr. squires.
    thankyou, Sarah,

  12. You opened up a treasure box and let us peek inside.

    Hello, Tina, thankyou,

  13. i’m shut-mouthed by this piece. i love everything about it. underline everything i just said because i have no other way to say it. ijust love this piece. beautiful.
    Thankyou, Mrs Ott, that is a beautiful comment compliment.

  14. Oh God, love this SO much.
    Capital SO, cool, thanks, Simonne.

  15. makes me missin red dirt out in the dry stirred open..

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