Discovery - Relating Poems to Quotes Flashcards

1
Q

Close his bed and rattle up the sash…/there’s sunlight rotating/off the drab carpet. And the water sways/solidly in its silver bowl, so cold

A

Journey: The North Coast

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2
Q

One of those bright crockery days/so I recall

A

Journey: The North Coast

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3
Q

Flees on the blue and silver paddock,/ over fences that look split from stone,/and banks of fern,/a red bank, full of roots,/ over dark creeks, where logs are fallen,/ and blackened tree trunks.

A

Journey: The North Coast

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4
Q

As a nude descends a staircase,/ slender white eucalyptus

A

Journey: The North Coast

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5
Q

And now the country bursts open on the sea…/across a calico beach unfurled,

A

Journey: The North Coast

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6
Q

Hair/Ruffled a bit, stow the book and wash-bag/and city clothes. Everything done, press down/ the latches into the case

A

Journey: The North Coast

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7
Q

That for twelve months have been standing out/ of a morning, above the wardrobe/ in a furnished room.

A

Journey: The North Coast

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8
Q

As it goes up/ onto the huge dark harbour

A

Late Ferry

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9
Q

Beyond a gangling jetty…beyond street light’s fluorescence…beyond the tomato stake patch

A

Late Ferry

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10
Q

The longer white lights/feel nervously about in the blackness/towards here, like hands/after the light switch

A

Late Ferry

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11
Q

The ferry is drawn along/polished marble, to be lost soon

A

Late Ferry

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12
Q

A Busby Berkeley spectacular/with thousands in frenzied far off/choreography, in their silver lame/the Bridge like a giant prop

A

Late Ferry

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13
Q

This does seem in a movie theatre/the boat is small as a moth

A

Late Ferry

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14
Q

I’ll lose sight of the ferry soon…/I can find it while it’s on darkness

A

Late Ferry

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15
Q

The hot fertilizer-thick,/ sticky stench of blood/sent flies mad,

A

The Meatworks

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16
Q

Arm-thick corkscrews, grinding around inside it, meat or not…/chomping bloody mouth…

A

The Meatworks

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17
Q

White-bruising beach

A

The Meatworks

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18
Q

There was a flaw to the analogy…the way those pigs stuck there, clinging to each other

A

The Meatworks

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19
Q

We got meat to take home
Vs
most of them

A

The Meatworks

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20
Q

I usually didn’t take the meat

A

The Meatworks

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21
Q

Caught, where the only work/was at this Works.

A

The Meatworks

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22
Q

But after sticking your hands all day/in snail sheened flesh,/ you found, around the nails, there was still blood.

A

The Meatworks

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23
Q

I’d scoop up shell-grit/and scrub my hands.

A

The Meatworks

24
Q

Treading about/through the icy ledges of the surf

A

The Meatworks

25
Q

Working with meat was like burning the live bush…and fertilizing with rottenness/for the frail money

A

The Meatworks

26
Q

But I settled for one of the lowest paying jobs, making mince

A

The Meatworks

27
Q

Out beside the highway, the first thing in the morning/nothing much in my pockets but sand

A

North Coast Town

28
Q

Car after car now…it’s like a boxer/warming up with the heavy bag, spitting air

A

North Coast Town

29
Q

Tattoos and greasy Fifties pompadour/ Rev in High Street, drop their first can./Plastic pennants on the distilled morning, everywhere;

A

North Coast Town

30
Q

A dog trotting and someone hoses down a pavement;/our image flaps in shop fronts; smoking on

A

North Coast Town

31
Q

The Odeon,/A warehouse picture show

A

North Coast Town

32
Q

The place is becoming chrome,/tile facing and plate glass, they’re making California;

A

North Coast Town

33
Q

pass an Abo, not attempting to hitch, outside town

A

North Coast Town

34
Q

Like fingers spread and dragged to smudge:/it is a rubbish dump, always burning

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

35
Q

A waterbird lifts above this swamp/as a turtle on the Galapagos Islands

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

36
Q

All the air wobbles/in a cheap mirror

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

37
Q

Amongst these vast grey plastic sheets of heat/shadowy figures

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

38
Q

Everywhere…it is…always…endless

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

39
Q

And there are others moving…scavengers

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

40
Q

As in hell the devils/might poke about through our souls, after scraps/of appetite

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

41
Q

Seem to be wandering, in despondence, with an eternity

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

42
Q

We

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

43
Q

And standing where I see the mirage of the city/I realise that am in the future…it will be made of things that worked

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

44
Q

A labourer hoists an unidentifiable mulch…throws it on the flame…like the rag held up in “the Raft of Medusa”

A

Flames and Dangling Wire

45
Q

Diptych

A

Diptych

46
Q

(…Raft of sap-oozing fiber,/ from which he’d climbed down, unharmed, his soberly polite,/had doffed his hat..)

A

Diptych

47
Q

Of a small lizard, dragged through her lips. That bitterness, I used to imagine;/she running onto the verandah to spit,/and standing there, spat dry, seeing across the silent, frosty bush

A

Diptych

48
Q

Back, step by step, she forced it, through the broken fence,/ it bellowing and hooking either side sharply at her all the way

A

Diptych

49
Q

let it have few bloody flowers, Mum.”/ No. She locked the broom handle straight-armed across its nose

A

Diptych

50
Q

I sway, for those little flimsy leaves/ she fell to at once, small as mouse prints, among the chopped-up loam.

A

Diptych

51
Q

The gentleman, after all, is only known,/only exists, through manner. He himself had the most perfect manners,/ of a kind.

A

Diptych

52
Q

After all, he was a university man/(although ungraduated), something more rare then./ MY father, I see was hopelessly melancholic…

A

Diptych

53
Q

He often drank alone…wear a carefully considered tie/to get drunk in the sandhills, watching the sea.

A

Diptych

54
Q

He advised me, pointing around, “when the sun is coming out of the sea, standing among/that lifting timber, you can feel at peace.”

A

Diptych

55
Q

Was as strongly-spiked as the one/on his infantry badge

A

Diptych

56
Q

I had accepted him…and I’d come by then to see that we all inhabit pathos

A

Diptych

57
Q

Sideways and pierced my hand…and so I dug with that one/into his ashes, which I found were like a mauvish-grey marble dust,/ and I felt I needn’t thank of anything more to say.

A

Diptych