For me at least, there is always a level of excitement and anticipation when one receives a poet’s first book. Not only a first book from him, but the first book from a new imprint. What intimations will we glean of the future directions for both?
This is an energetic book divided into five sections loosely focused on the sea, flora, fauna and personal explorations. I talk about focus because the poems in this book really do hone in on details in a way that can only be done by someone with a sustained passion for both observation and engagement.
I once heard Philip Salom refer to his undergraduate days. Somewhat bemused by the collective obsession of those around him to “find their voice”, he eventually came around to the decision that for him the obligation was to find the voice of the poem, each poem. This could be said to be the priority of many practitioners, myself included, and is certainly a feature of O’Neill-Pugh’s work. There are a number of superbly drafted concrete poems that perfectly fit the subject matter addressed (The Anchor, Clutching to Grains Escaping, Emerge, Labyrinth). Ecopoetics dominate in a substantial number of pieces, not surprisingly considering the subject matter — for example “silhouettes streak towards amazement” (Dolphin) and
A pale mark, tarnished brown
ebon underneath, brushed granite
that would fold it, soothe it, in the ashen
confnes of its darkness.
The Beachcomber’s Prize
There is a deft lyrical voice on display.
Land, land and rest
worry not the awkwardness
of your great wings,
Albatross
Admit We Can’t Admit is almost a hymn while Pyramid even comes close to being a sea shanty!
Much of the language and imagery is fresh, impactful.
All this knowledge held
with silent insistence
Roots
…the moon snail
crawls across a tomb
Naticidea
weeping obsidian
Albatross
Today’s readers of poetry (bless you all) have multiple dictionaries on standby in their phones. Until I opened this book I thought this old brain of mine that I lug around had a pretty extensive vocabulary but Musings of a Dune Thistle had me scrambling for assistance regularly — like hamartia, hygroscopic and procumbent. I find it interesting that you probably couldn’t get away with that complexity back in the 20th century when you could only expect the reader to get up from there domestic armchair to clutch a brickish dictionary so many times. But hey, I’ve taken away a fabulous new word to describe myself — solivagant.
In the poems that address more personal matters there is an engaging gentleness as we are invited indoors whether it be an old dog, past friends, relationships or the self.
Channels are abandoned, a random DVD
the first touched, no thought
God just anything. Anything at all.
Coqelicot
Carefully threaded throughout is the dune thistle. A native that binds ocean dunes while simultaneously presents threat and beauty. A truly apt anchor for this book. Even more so when one considers a thistle is a symbol for Scotland — while the poet marvels at this land and ocean he calls home he is constantly aware that the thistle he is does not wholly own or belong here. He is introduced as are the majority of Australians.
I will be eagerly awaiting the next book both from O’Neill-Pugh and Other Terrain Books!
