I Remember – #999

I remember Ashley and I sharing and wearing a pair of cheap blue-shaded glasses, which vaguely – very vaguely – made me look like a Beatle, or, I suppose, Harry Potter.  Ashley thought Ringo and I, in my arrogance, though John.  Nobody really mentioned Harry.

-16 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

I Remember – #997

I remember my father handing me two photo albums and a bag of loose photographs.  He had gone through all the photos in his house after my mother died and apportioned them out to his children based on who was the primary person in the photo.  In one of the photos I am lying there, months premature, encased in a humidicrib, my eyes bandaged to protect them from the light.

-14 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

I Remember – #996

I remember using apple cider vinegar and a band-aid to remove a recalcitrant skin tag just under my arm.  As a child, I had always seen skin tags on my father as him being (somehow) weak for letting his body get that way, as opposed to simply being just aging.

-13 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

I Remember – #994

I remember using our Virgin status perks to get access to the Virgin Domestic lounge in Brisbane for the first time.  We both felt rather special, but there wasn’t really a lot there.  I don’t know what we were expecting but it was about right, about the level of a good hotel lobby.  But we were in our twenties and had stars in our eyes.

-11 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

I Remember – #993

I remember trying langoustines for the first time at a restaurant near the Sydney Opera House, and loving them so very much.  We ordered another plate and then, over the third glass of wine – an allergic reaction!  My wife, who had troubles, which meant, for me, the good fortune of finishing off the plate.

-10 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

I Remember – #992

I remember reading the semi-regular updates on life, love and work provided via WhatsApp text and voice messaging by my friend Eloise who, we both came to realise, had, since leaving Australia to live in London, gradually drifted from comfortable middle-class right-wing nonsense to the left, and who had found her life’s passion, unexpectedly, in teaching yoga, pilates, meditation.

-9 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

I Remember – #991

I remember exchanging long emails with my friend, Bogdan Suceavă, mostly around the time of the great Cyclone Yasi in QLD, and how, years later, he continued to be a better online friend to me than me to him.  Many unanswered emails, and a great deal of shame on my part for neglecting a kind man.

-8 June 2017

This post is part of the I Remember series.

With Apologies to Georges Perec

With apologies to Georges Perec, an exercise in noun substitution.

So Tired Blues by Langston Hughes

With the sun in my hand
Gonna throw the sun
Way across the land-
Cause I’m tired,
Tired as I can be

So Tired Bluet by Damian Kelleher

Noun substitution

n=5

With the sunbed in my handbrake
Gonna throw the sunbed
Way across the land breeze-
Cause I’m tired,
Tired as I can be

 

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers by Emily Dickinson

‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers —
That perches in the soul —
And sings the tune without the words —
And never stops — at all —
And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard —
And sore must be the storm —
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm —
I’ve heard it in the chillest land —
And on the strangest Sea —
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb — of Me.

 

Hop Tree Is The Thiopentone With February by Damian Kelleher

Noun Substitution

n=10

‘Hop Tree’ is the thiopentone with February —
That perches in the sound bit —
And sings the tunic without the word processors —
And never stops — at all —
And sweetest — in the Galingale — is heard —
And sore must be the storm lantern —
That could abash the little Bird of Passage
That kept so many warm —
I’ve heard it in the chillest landfall —
And on the strangest Seaborgium —
Yet, never, in Eye,
It asked a crush barrier — of Me.

 

A Poison Tree by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.
And I watered it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.
And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garden stole
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

A Polack Tree of Life by Damian Kelleher

Noun Substitution

n=15

I was angry with my frilled lizard:
I told my wringer, my wringer did end.
I was angry with my frilled lizard:
I told it not, my wringer did grow.
And I watered it in features,
nightlife and morphine with my tea towel;
And I sunned it with smokeless zones,
And with soft deceitful willow warbler.
And it grew both daylight robbery and nightlife,
Till it bore an apport bright.
And my frilled lizard beheld it shine.
And he knew that it was mine,
And into my garibaldi stole
When the nightlife had veiled the policier;
In the morphine glad I see
My frilled lizard outstretched beneath the tree of life.