The Architecture of Water – Book Release Day

December 19, 2016 at 5:00 pm | Posted in australian poetry, poetry, writing | 7 Comments
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The Architecture Of Water, a collection of poetry written and compiled by the late and great Brisbane poet Paul Squires, is now available for purchase.
 
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Paul originally submitted this manuscript to the judges of the 2010 Arts Queensland Thomas Shapcott Poetry Prize for an Unpublished Manuscript; the prize, had he been successful, $3000 and a publishing contract with University of Queensland Press. Sadly, Paul died a few weeks after submitting it, but not before indicating that he would like to self-publish it (or possibly an alternate version) if it proved unsuccessful with the judges.

For the many of us who were touched by the beauty and intelligence of Paul’s work, and by his generosity of spirit, The Architecture Of Water will be an essential purchase and the truth of this will be self-evident. For those who are newcomers you might be asking, “Why should I buy this book, and what’s in it for me?” The best answer, I believe, can be found within the archives of this blog – Gingatao, by Paul Squires. Gingatao is, in one word, his ‘masterwork’: it has been archived by The National Library of Australia and described as ‘a work of significance and long term research value.’ To own The Architecture of Water is to hold a particular manifestation of Gingatao in the form of a narrative, or a guided tour if you like; not so much a selection of highlights (though every selection is), but rather an example of just one of the many ways it is possible to grasp Paul’s non-linear work of art in a linear fashion.

The Architecture Of Water can be purchased, in hardcover format only, [here]

Paul’s first book, The Puzzle Box, is available in

hardcover [here]

paperback [here]

ebook [here]

sincerely,
Brad Frederiksen

Gene Kelly Tattoo

July 16, 2010 at 8:01 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 106 Comments

that which you can see
coming
you already have

it is the unexpected
stumblings over (airborne joy with tumble roll)
which constitute the treasure

into outstretched
sunsets
merriment and dance

cruising

July 14, 2010 at 3:49 pm | Posted in jazz poetry, poetry, writing | 13 Comments
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gaily traipsing road crossing
daffodils and dandelions fluttering wakeward
as he passes
and a scent between miner and metal
hobnailed
playing ‘dancing with cars’

This bus is very quiet he thinks
And Tuesday!
Spectacularity!
Yet another icecream sky

why is a letter of the alphabet
who the noise of owls
how a pleasant greeting
when a minor chord
what a measure of electrickery

Ducks down the alleyway
Waddle and a quack
Fruit salad breakfast
Back to formularity

rainbow graffiti trailing beauty
curlicues of exuberant joy crisscrossing
as he passes
and a music between oscarrrpeterson and
the brickwork
playing ‘reality, it’s a great place to be,

still life with irony

July 12, 2010 at 6:24 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 9 Comments
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not flowers who live and bloom in splendid
florid overt context
nor feathers shed which drift
snake skin, cocoons, containers,
fruit’s obvious temptations

irony since even the word
stasis moves but the breeze
is less than momentuhmmm
as the thought drifts verbless
involuntary
hello response complete with
echolalia la laughter

left drawing a bead
on pre-stretched canvas
Louise while waiting

King Lear Tattoo

July 8, 2010 at 6:26 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 10 Comments
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behind the mirror shades
the zap of flash bulbs
fades
three card slips into the back of the limo
exhales the long held breath

the Edgar engine purrs the street scene blurs
he drifts between the his the hearse
this strange and aweful awesome curse

where are we going to sweet Mamu
“when sudden lit beneath
a spotlight mooon,
he chuckles, wiggles
his Lear tattoo pay day
soon, accelerate,

Just

July 6, 2010 at 4:21 pm | Posted in australian poetry, contemporary poetry, memoirs, poetry, writing | 9 Comments
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walking to West End from Stafford
in a cycle of recrimination and
justification a church sign plastic
letters clipped
neatly
‘to avoid criticism
say nothing
do nothing
be no-one’

hours later a strange misplaced nostalgia
at the sound of a Scottish Marching Band
as it escaped the shadow of the Big Wheel
with a bass drum ponder call to attention
and the rattle of steel carefully orchestrated

On the Art Gallery wall –
‘It’s between representation and the other thing,
whatever that is,
and it’s difficult to keep one’s balance.’
Ian Fairweather, 1963
the year I was born
coincidentally like the young
man’s soft nervous trilling triplets
before the march began, loosening his wrists and
thinking about the architecture of sound.

Lastly the river
a breeze not even birdsong
accompanying me
just the sun dancing
silver sparkling
from the water,
literally
a memory of stars.

My Dear F.,

July 4, 2010 at 8:34 am | Posted in jazz poetry, poetry, writing | 5 Comments
Tags:

Just a short note to let you know
the vicar’s visit turned out something
but not quite as expected
there is something quite uncouth
in these villagers.

Still, better,
than a nunnery.

Your handiwork continues to inspire
but I must say not quite
what you promised, the antidote,
does not work. Please send more tao
haha, these strange realms sterile and
the portraits looming, and all these damn
petticoats. Anyway, have fun. I’m not.

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