Recoil 10 - ten years of Perth Poetry Club

RECOIL TEN's 125 are feature poets who were selected  for the annual RECOIL zines and a some of the regular open-mikers. They represent a snapshot of the Perth Poetry Club over its first ten years. In that time there has been:

  • nearly 480 Saturday gigs
  • 850+ features
  • 7,500+ open-mikers
  • 17,500+ audience.

This quanta does not include the 60+ festival poets that have appeared or featured at the Club during the annual Perth Poetry Festival - Elio Novello.

RECOIL TEN celebrates a decade of diversity with poems selected from Western Australian, interstate, overseas and guest poets as well as regular readers. The strength of Perth Poetry Club lies in acceptance creating a welcoming community to poets of all abilities and poetry of all forms. Everyone is welcome at Perth Poetry Club where slams and sonnets meet. Perth Poetry Club is held every Saturday 2 – 4 pm at the Moon Café, 323 William Street, Northbridge Western Australia.


Consecrated Lives

i
wind weaves pink ribbons, through long fair hair
in freshly minted, Sunday morning air

twisting fingers from her mothers grasp, racing up the stairs
sliding on the polished stones, into the consecrated place
she settled on the wooden pew, tugging off her gloves
as voices turned to murmurs, then quickly hushed

the man looked funny, in his long black dress
his necklace with the golden cross
hung heavily down, beneath his chest

raised high by cherubs’ outstretched hands
his pulpit held in tight caress        a hand-carved Angels’ lair
his consecrated stand

his deep rich voice commanded, in that stone bound place
exhorting, the congregation, to live in God’s good grace

waves of sternly spoken words, seeped into corners of her mind
sending chilly shards of fear, along her youthful spine

she fled into the pictures of people from the past
held by webs of cracked black lines, in pretty coloured glass
in windows bound by stone

but his smile was sunny when he took her hands
after the sermon, on the porch
drawing her close      whispering       softly
how pretty she is      how special she is
 high teas in the Vestry        sitting        closely
in that very special, stone bound, consecrated place

ii
testimony shed some shackles from the past
half a lifetime’s silent story        now broadcast
spoken loud        a life laid bare
newly heard by others’ ears

a final pilgrimage, that church, that Vestry
that cold and wholly empty        desecrated place

Yvonne G Patterson

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