The Little Prince inspired scribble from notes of stage play A Little Laugh I Lost Somewhere

“we came to see inspirational people and we got there before we even got in the door”…

Listen to some queue-bites from the Sydney Writers Festival. This line up was for the Philharmonia, Day 2, the poem was about the line we draw between ages and artforms: from a theatre show, “The Line We Draw”.

“stick to ducking the barriers while we can-

 this line will become a noose

strangling every sense of worth

because there are so many queues on Earth

that the Earth has patterns on it

you can see it from above – “

“Waiting was good!..we need the actual entertainment!”

photo courtesy of Adam Sebire

courtesy of Andrew Vincent Photography

Shared the poem, BRONTE and PLEASE SOUND HORN. 

Which led to the response, “we saw it all and we could ‘smell’ your poetry, especially the ‘attack on the senses” that is India, and the blinding, peaking ocean that rolls into Bronte. 

PLEASE SOUND HORN, SOUND HORN OK:

Beneath a buttermilk sun

the Krishna-blue dominance of myth and story

line the motorway

we putt, push, poke

past a polluted picturebook

beneath boastful billboards

beside the hooked elbow

of a thousand SIM-faithfuls

a thousand hot ears

a thousand million trillion mobile prayers

are sent skyward

while a grubby Ganesh sits plump and plastic 

on a pock-marked stone

while Shiva is still dancing, unmoved 

ten feet away, in an ancient temple

while someone scrapes his scooter to a stop with his sandal

while someone scuttles leg-less on a skateboard

between this rick-whallah and a sari’s gilt-edged hem

while she adjusts her laptop strap in the haze

and a millionare’s driver peels his eyes from her

to press a pedal

–skye loneragan