The Poets Themselves

These days it might be said that poetry is really the medium by which poets communicate with each other. That is, basically only poets read poetry, and then only so much as they need to write their own poetry.

Even more uncharitably, it might be said that many poets' chief subject matter is themselves. Early Queensland poets were no more immune to this tendency than poets today. However, what they had to say about themselves is of course interesting to readers today.

Please click on the poem titles below to read about early Queensland poets, in their own words.

  • "A New Shirt" Why? 1942

    by Paul Grano    ‘A new shirt!’ Why? I have a shirt-two-three! worn a bit, not many days to them, nor perhaps to me. Soon earth’ll have one of them, my...

  • Day-Dream 1947

    by Arthur Wade    I am sitting in my office, in my office all alone, Listening to the tramcars and the city's distant drone; I've a pile of letters...

  • Doomed 1938

    by June Saunders    I ride upon a crest exultantly! In this triumphal perilous poise upon The high white foam peak of my ecstasy I banish memories of...

  • Finale 1943

    by Frank Francis    When I have died build me no monument But let the natural grasses shroud my grave, With salt winds of the sea to meet the tang Of...

  • If I am blind 1974

    by Gwen Belson-Taylor    If I am ever blind, I shall have seen A jacaranda tree Gem-crowned with amethyst, in symphony With the startled blue of new...

  • Ten of Us 1895

    by Francis Kenna    Ten of us, eager as men may be, Rode through the night to the distant sea. One of us riding with reins held slack, Stumbled and...

  • The Seventh Child 1972

       From  The Seventh Child   I am the seventh child And my parents loved me well; They gave me the silver of seven stars- And the chime of a crystal bell. My...

  • When 1943

    by Llywelyn Lucas      When Betelgeuse holds out her shining hand Across the hundreds of her years of light, I marvel that I should be here at gaze Upon the...

  • Why I am Poor 1897

    by A. A. Bayldon    Because, my friends I have a savage glee In drinking to the dregs the draughts of life And love to feel my spirit spreading free, Stretching...