Long Forme Poems

 Translation of Eric Mottram’s TIME SIGHT UNSEEN - Part Four by T. Wignesan


"Instead of an item in a school of rhetoric, the poem could have variety of articulations, continuity and discontinuity, sentence and parataxis,...

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L'Assimilation – Non! Translation of Oodgeroo Noonuccal’s “Assimilation – No !” by T. Wignesan

Born Kathleen Jean Mary RUSKA on November 3, 1920, in the North Stradbroke Island, off Queensland, she was deemed as an aboriginal...

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Mama – Translation of Kevin Gilbert’s « Mum » by T. Wignesan

Kevin Gilbert (July 10, 1933 – April 1, 1993) - father of Irish-English ancestry, mother an aboriginal from New South Wales - was orphaned...

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She wades in until the water reaches her waist,
looks out and continues into the endless sea.
Her imagined long gown floats behind her.

Her little girl shoulder blades 
become hidden beneath the water.
Each time she raises her...

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J'apprends le français en ce moment
parce que j'ai l'intention de voyager à Paris.
Je ne parle pas couramment le français.
J'ai découvert Le Lac il y a quelques années.

Par un mariage
Du côté de ma mère,
nous sommes liés...

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I once read,
If I am a parishioner,
(or a student
or a child
or some other non-elite ecofeminist identity)
Then someone has power over me.

It would have been more helpful
if this "someone"
had been named,
finger-pointed outed.

I am left wondering,
Who could...

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Translation of Eric Mottram’s The Cat Sat on the Mat, La chatte s’est assise sur la natte by T. Wignesan

(Unless I’m sorely mistaken, this’s EM’s first published poem: Poetry Magazine/Poetry Foundation, Chicago, February 1959, pp....

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The sky is blue, clear, jovial and ethereal
To welcome with open heart spring which is
So beautiful, fresh, colorful, and at ease
Oh! It’s a reborn again time which is real.

Oh! Friends, it's the most wonderful season
Green...

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Sea the wight-capped waives rolling inn the see;
here the howling wynds, wile I’m standing hear,
whale and forme hi waives. Theirs eh jumping wail-
tale upp inn the ayre!  This should make gneiss tail
two tel wen...

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I could stay for hours under the sun
to contemplate bouquets of primroses,
to listen to the buzzing of insects,
To contemplate their petals, the shape of hearts,

I could stay for hours if no one comes,
to absorb the...

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Lost in a vertical field
Stretched over a wire,
Cut into a shape,
Hanging on  wet folds ...

The sun moves and dazzled me,
... I'll be drunk by the white
Cleared to everyone eyes,

Already waving, and pushed by the...

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It is said there is perfect forme

through the sands of time

where the shape of one

becomes two...

an emerging tone

each passing stone

becomes a note in the wind

and a quote in the mind

as the matter of a string

revolves...

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