Tag Archives: Orbis

Congratulations!


Congratulations to Orbis Quarterly International Literary Journal and Editor Carole Baldock. The 200th issue has just arrived. It is a bumper bundle and I look forward to getting stuck in.


Orbis is not just a poetry magazine, it is an international community of poets: each issue carries Lines on lines – brief communications from readers and I particularly like the Readers’ Award. Each issue readers can nominate up to four contributors whose work most appeals. A sum of money goes to the poem(s) that get the most votes and a similar amount is split between the runners-up. I find that I read each poem or prose piece with more attention – to have a rationale for my choices and votes.

I appreciate that my work has been featured in orbis three times. Below are two poems which featured most recently.

Credit: Steven Hill via Pixabay

The fire in Sydney

We’ve been out in the harbour
to get our Lifeboat Certificate.
The only woman, too feeble to row,
I had to steer the lifeboat
alongside SS Oronsay. First time
I didn’t manage to line it up.
Passengers lean over the railings,
watch us circle for a second attempt.

A fire on board has cut the electricity.
Our lifeboat cannot be winched back up.
The small, wizened Australian examiner
stares straight ahead. A passing ferry hoots.
From the galley portholes drifts
the smell of freshly baked bread.
The ferry hoots again. We dare not wave.
We don’t know yet if we’ve passed.

The last dogs

are running along the flood line.
Visitors are leaving for home, vacating the boarding houses; hotels.
A few people sit outside their huts: Parnassia, Shangri-La, Paradise;
grand names for a row of painted wooden boxes
which will be taken apart, then taken away at the end of the season.
The last dogs of the day are running along the flood line.
Gulls are scattering. It’s still warm. Somebody is singing a Beatles song.

Optimism

Any writer is an optimist. Why? Number one: they think they’ll finish their book. Number two: they think somebody will publish it. Number three: they think somebody will read it. That’s a lot of optimism.       (Margaret Attwood in a recent interview.)

I was about to give up on Animate and inanimate objects relating to J Abraham. It has been sent to at least a dozen magazines and competitions in the last few years. I know one or two editors who don’t like prose poems and don’t publish them. But I like the piece, it’s quirky and I have grown attached to it, so I sent it along with three poems to Carole Baldock, editor of Orbis – a quality UK poetry magazine. I had two poems accepted in 2014, but not submitted since. Just had an email acceptance!

The piece consists of short monologues by, respectively, the favourite mug, the handkerchief, the ashtray, the moustache, and the newspaper cutting. It came out my decluttering before I downsized a few years ago.

There are echoes of Elizabeth Bishop’s poem 12 O’ Clock News. This prose poem is in the form of a report of an alien territory: the gooseneck lamp becomes the full moon, the typewriter is an escarpment, a pile of manuscripts is a landslide, and so on. I fancy that Bishop wrote the poem when she was having a bout of writer’s block. It is a witty, humorous piece that must have been hiding in my subconscious for a long time. Here is part of Bishop’s report:

From our superior vantage point, we can clearly see into a sort of dugout, possibly a shell crater, a “nest” of soldiers. They lie heaped together, wearing the camouflage “battle dress” intended for “winter warfare”. They are in hideously contorted positions, all dead. We can make out at least eight bodies.

That’s the ashtray again…