Houses and rooms are full of perfumes, the shelves are crowded with perfumes, I breathe the fragrance myself and know it and like it, The distillation would intoxicate me also, but I shall not let it.. . .
from Leaves of Grass
Drawing on the phrasing of Walt Whitman’s great late 19th century poem Leaves of Grass (above) Frank Prem has produced a collection of expansive and outward looking love poetry written, as always, in the unique style that allows every reader to relate.
Prem’s interpretations breathe new life into contemporary exploration of themes of love in poetry, and utilise Whitman’s original phrases to inspire a contemplation of the self in the context of landscape and the wider world:
and as they open I realise they are filled with sweet perfumes
from a house filled (with the sensual)
a kiss for the worthy is the second of three collections that together comprise A Love Poetry Trilogy, with each revisiting outstanding work by stellar poets of the past to produce vibrant new collections. The first collection, walk away silver heart, draws on Amy Lowell’s deeply personal Madonna of the Evening Flowers, while the third, rescue and redemption, derives from T.S Eliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock.
This is a new kind of poetry that tells stories, draws pictures and elicits emotional responses from readers. Just as the best poetry should.
A Kiss For The Worthy is the second of three poetry collections in A Love Poetry Trilogy, drawing inspiration from Walk Whitman’s Leaves of Grass.
It begins with an extract of leaves of Grass: Song of Myself.
Frank Prem’s free style poetry is always a delight to read. Freestyle or free verse poetry frees the writer from the constraints of meter and rhyme.
Compared to Prem’s other works A Kiss For The Worthy focuses on the person within: the concept of self and an individual’s experience of and love of life. It awakens the readers appreciation on so many levels, from the sensory imagery of feet walking on sand, to the familiar battles of drinking too much coffee!
There is something for everyone – from the philosophical to light-hearted humour too.
My personal favourites are:
not until (I die), in blossom wild (a nature boy), a house filled (with the sensual), what I am (a lapwing’s call), every working man, not much left (of me), espresso (no and no)
Ritu and I have met on several occasions at Blogging Bashes in London and we ‘clicked’ just as much in person as we do in our lovely ‘online,’ friendship.
So welcome Sis! When Ritu knew I was offering fellow writers a chance to join the online discussion about COVID19 – this crazy world we find ourselves in, she jumped at the chance.
How do writers, creatives, artists and bookish souls cope with isolation? Is their capacity to cope different from the rest of the population? It’s an interesting question and one that fascinates me.
How is Ritu coping with this enforced isolation?
Here is Ritu’s answer:
Coronavirus. COVID-19. Unprecendented. Social Distancing. Quarantine. Self-Isolation. Lockdown.
These are all words we have heard countless times in the last few weeks. What have they done? Brought a wave of panic into your life? Or are you someone who has taken to it rather calmly? Well, for me, it’s been a bit like this. When we first heard about this strange virus, schools were still open, yet I had students going off sick with mysterious illnesses for a week to ten days at a time. Then the government called for school closures, followed by social distancing, and the UK version of Lockdown. I say UK version because, though all non-essential businesses have been closed, we are still allowed out to exercise once a day, go shopping for food, and schools still need us teachers, but in a different capacity; as carers for the children of Keyworkers.
Once I got over the initial worry and shock of what was happening, I got excited. This meant more time for me to get creative, when I was home. Book two has been started but had been languishing for a couple of months, as the business of daily life took its toll. But, just because you have time, doesn’t mean you automatically switch to the creator of four thousand words a day – well, that doesn’t happen to me, anyway. My creativity has been hit-and-miss to be honest. I thought all this time would mean I could write, do some courses I signed up for but never got a chance to access, more promotion, lots of reading…
The reality has been quite different.
To start with, I am in school on a rota system, so I could be in for one or two days, but I don’t know more than a week in advance. And there is the joy of having both kids and Hubby Dearest at home as well, so no time was distraction-free time either.
I sit with my laptop open on one of my home days, WIP loaded up, ready to write up a storm. Nothing comes. I open a book to read. But I can’t get into it and put it down after a few pages. Then I remember those courses. So, I manage another couple of modules on a creative writing course. But no words. After the first ten days, we were in official Easter holiday mode. Technically no different to the last few days, but I felt, mentally, that I was on a break. I discovered online writing sprints on several Facebook groups that helped, and in a few days, I did double my wordcount.
The joy to read came back.
But then official term started again.
And I have now got online learning to do for school too, to justify us all being at home, even though we are still planning work for our children to do at home. As well as still needing to go in periodically.
Another killjoy to my writing spree.
I’m trying to be practical still have work, but I need my play too, which involves reading and writing. So, I have taken time to re-plan and structure my WIP, and while doing that, I have got my juices flowing, again, I think. My aim is to do school-based work in the mornings and use after lunch time to look at my creative projects, be it writing, courses or research for the WIP. The evening is filled with family time, walks, cooking, reading, watching films and TV, and if I feel inspired, a little more writing time. I’m under no illusions. At one point I thought I would end this period with a mainly finished first draft, but I don’t think that will happen. I’ve had up days, days where I have felt productive in all areas of my quiet life, then there have been days where I have barely wanted to leave my bed.
Those days are the days that suck my creative well dry. The days I watch the news and the world gives me nothing to be hopeful about. The days I had that call or message to say a loved one was ill, or had passed away (twice, so far). Still, I’m just thankful that I am okay, we are all healthy, and that, in itself, is the biggest thing. I’ll keep trying to write, but I won’t beat myself up if nothing comes. These are crazy times. Messing with our heads. If I can’t write my own words, I’ll read others. I’ll teach myself new things to make my words, when they do come, better.
But I won’t stop trying to write.
(Oh, and I discovered TikTok! Heaven help us all!)
Author Bio Ritu Bhathal was born in Birmingham in the mid-1970s to migrant parents, hailing from Kenya but with Indian origin. This colourful background has been a constant source of inspiration to her. From childhood, she always enjoyed reading. This love of books is credited to her mother. The joy of reading spurred her on to become creative in her writing, from fiction to poetry. Winning little writing competitions at school and locally encouraged her to continue writing.
As a wife, mother, daughter, sister, and teacher, she has drawn on inspiration from many avenues to create the poems that she writes. A qualified teacher, having studied at Kingston University, she now deals with classes of children as a sideline to her writing!
Ritu also writes a blog, www.butismileanyway.com, a mixture of life and creativity, thoughts and opinions, which was awarded first place in the Best Overall Blog Category at the 2017 Annual Bloggers Bash Awards, and Best Book Blog in 2019.Ritu is happily married and living in Kent, with her Hubby Dearest, and two children, not forgetting the fur baby Sonu Singh.
I’m so happy that Willow can join me today. She is an old blogging friend, who I have met in person at several blogging bashes. An old friend in the logging world is referred to as a Blogging Sister!
So welcome Sis! When I mentioned my Writer’s In Isolation series I knew Willow would come up with something really fantastic and she has.
How do writers, creatives, artists and bookish souls cope with isolation? Is their capacity to cope different from the rest of the population? It’s an interesting question and one that fascinates me.
How is Willow coping with this enforced isolation?
Here is Willow’s answer:
I really don’t know if writers, creatives, artists and bookish souls cope any better or worse than the rest of the population. In fact, I don’t think I am coping all that well. I seem to be busier now than ever I was before Covid19 reared its ugly head. I really find it hard to find time – to sit down and work on my blog – and the family even though they are not living at home, they take up most of my time. If it has taught me anything, it has taught me that my blogging time must be managed, as it helps me, so it must have its place.
Marje: Indeed it should Willow. I am so glad that blogging has helped you and continues to help you cope with your current situation. It’s tough and I know you have had your share of problems. The poem which I’d like to feature today originally appeared on your blog in February and it is eerily true to life at the moment.
Willow: “I had no idea then how close to the truth it was, though I do hope the outcome is better than the one I predicted.”
Here’s Willow’s Poem:
The planet was struggling it’s true
From space it was no longer blue
It was suffering from millennia of wars and abuse
People pleaded for change, no use.
Most people tried to help Earth
They knew the planets worth.
Then came the plague
No respecter of king or knave
It cut through the ranks and top brass
No preference for age or class
It sent weak, old or young to the grave.
It emptied the streets and Malls,
Pubs, clubs and church halls.
It stopped the planes and the trains
The fat cats lost their profits and gains.
Huge nations brought to their knees
As scientists search for the keys
To the elusive cure to rid all of the bain.
Just when it could not get worse
Hate joined fear with a curse.
The people turn on each other
Neighbour, husband, wife, sister, brother.
Empty shops, no fuel they could not stand
Then all civilian movement was banned
The crops and animals died on the land.
Drones flew over head, all was scanned.
Mother Nature watched with a tear
Chaos in weeks, rebellion, extinction within a year.
I am the mum of three boys all now grown and flown to live their own lives. Luckily they do keep in touch and visit often. I now have two beautiful grandsons.
When I started this blog I had not long come home from hospital after an accident in which I broke my back, for the second time. I was in hospital for a month and had three operations.
It has taken me a long time to recover, I am still recovering but every day my body is getting stronger. It has taken a huge toll on me mentally I had to retire early on health grounds, I had to come to terms with finding out people I thought were friends were not. I had to make a new life for myself. Things I could do easily have become difficult.
Writing poetry and prose has helped me a great deal. I have made so many wonderful friends through blogging I think it has definitely saved my life.
Marje: You have been through so much Willow. Bless you. You’re such a resilient, and amazing person.
Willow continues to amaze me – here are just some of her wonderful blog posts to give you a tiny flavour of who she is:
Today, it is my great pleasure to welcome not one, but two poets…
Author Spotlight – Cendrine Marrouat & David Ellis
Cendrine and David co-founded Auroras & Blossoms Poetry Journal, a magazine that promotes inspirational and uplifting poetry no matter the topic. They accept everyone, as long as they have something positive to say in their poetry.
They published the first issue of their magazine in October of this year.
You can submit one free poem per submission period to the magazine.
13-16 year olds can also submit to the magazine, via their parents and guardians.
Furthermore, Auroras & Blossoms are also looking for article submissions or essays relating to poetry that are inspirational in nature.
For more information regarding their poetry journal, how to submit and to subscribe to their magazine then go to: abpoetryjournal.com
Originally from Toulouse, France, Cendrine Marrouat has called Winnipeg, Canada, her home for 16 years. She is a photographer, poet, author, French instructor, and the Head of marketing and communications at ConnexionFranco.Coop. She has also co-founder two projects, FPoint Collective and Auroras & Blossoms Poetry Journal.
Cendrine specializes in nature, black-and-white and closeup images. Her photography seeks the mundane to capture the fleeting, but true beauty of life in its many forms.
Cendrine is passionate about haiku. She has studied the Japanese poetry form extensively and written many pieces since 2006.
In 2015, Cendrine was recognized as a Top 100 Business Blogger by BuzzHUMM. Social Media Slant, her former blog, also made Fit Small Business’ Best Small Business Blogs of 2015 & 2016 lists.
Walks: A Collection of Haiku (Volumes 1 & 2) are Cendrine’s 12th and 13th books. Other releases include five collections of poetry, three photography books, a play, two social media ebooks, and a spoken word CD.
David Ellis is a UK based author of poetry, fiction and music lyrics. He has been writing poetry and music lyrics for years.
His debut poetry book ‘Life, Sex & Death – A Poetry Collection Vol 1’ is an International Award winning volume, having won an award in the Readers’ Favorite 2016 Book Award Contest for Inspirational Poetry Books.
Think of him like the thriller genre in that he is fast paced, relentless and impossible to put down!
His latest book ‘See A Dream Within: Found “Poe”try Based On The Collected Poetry Works Of Edgar Allan Poe’ can now be purchased on Amazon Kindle, on Lulu and in print at major outlets.
Frank Prem has been a storytelling poet for forty years. When not writing or reading his poetry to an audience, he fills his time by working as a psychiatric nurse.
He has been published in magazines, e-zines and anthologies, in Australia and in a number of other countries, and has both performed and recorded his work as ‘spoken word’.
Frank has published two collections of free verse poetry – Small Town Kid (2018) and Devil In The Wind (2019).
He and his wife live in the beautiful township of Beechworth in northeast Victoria (Australia).
Good morning Marje, (at least it’s morning over here in Beechworth, the little town where I live in Australia).
Good morning Frank. So lovely to welcome you to my blog…
Your tagline ‘There are stories all around me’ really appeals to me. I agree with this one hundred percent! With so much inspiration everywhere how do you decide what to write about?
I suspect I may end up being a little indirect in my answer to this, Marje.
I decided a long time ago in my writing development that I should adopt a philosophy along the lines of – no single thing, however great or small, should be discarded from acting as the source of a poem. A story.
As a result, I’ve found myself writing about a snail crawling across the inner forest of a head of broccoli from my garden, about the king of the lizards running around in pursuit of life and death matters on my back veranda. The clouds and the sky.
Literally everything I encounter feels as though it has the potential to captivate, and there are days when I can’t switch that sense off. I see these stories everywhere.
One of the reasons I developed such an affinity for the small, I think, comes from my childhood and adolescence, where I was very conscious of coming from a small town, being a small fish, and yet feeling (of course) as though I was in the very centre of the functioning universe.
I decided that small needed to be celebrated, and I started by purposefully incorporating local place names in my poetry. Little locales of only a handful of people, but a name made real by being included in a poem.
Sometimes that seems enough.
The link below will take you to a poem I wrote about a possible World Tour I might undertake if ever I had a poetry ‘hit’. The idea of appearing and performing to sell-out crowds in these little places that sometimes consisted of nothing more than a hall and some scattered farms amused me enormously at the time. I’m a little gobsmacked, now, by the cheekiness of my then self, given that I’ve begun actively seeking out exactly such places as these to host readings and performances. . .
I’m curious to find out more about you! I know from your blog/blogs that you live with your wife Leanne, in Beechworth north-east Victoria. You are both creative and have collaborated together. That must be so wonderful. Tell me about your collaborations and any plans you have for the future.
It really is wonderful being partner to someone who is a talented and gifted artist and musician in her own right.
The nature of our direct collaborations change as we go along, and new interests and imperatives surface.
In the past we have performed together on stage, created songs together, and put music to poetry to turn poem into song. Leanne has illustrated a poetry collection for me in the past (one of our early attempts to self-publish). That collection – Memoir of a Dog – is no longer in print, but might get another airing in the future.
Leanne has also produced and accompanied some of my poems, transforming them from spoken word into a different realm of work and accomplishment.
There are also examples of accompanied, studio quality poems, where we worked on a number of pieces that were mythologically themed available to be listened to. Leanne accompanied, produced and sometimes added voice to these pieces. Poems include not I at all, the day craft, maketh the man, and a long night to sunrise: https://frankprem.com/studio-quality-accompanied-recordings/. My personal favorite is maketh the man.
In future, we may well tour together presenting a combined puppetry and poetry show, with accompanying workshops.
What excites and intrigues you most?
I find it difficult to resist new writing challenges, particularly involving imagery.
I’ve come to realise that a lot of my writing involves imagery – either creating pictures out of words, or using picture images as the stimulus for creating a poetic journey that a reader can embark on.
On a quite different plane, the creation of collections in published book form is an exhausting exhilaration. I often speak of having had a 40 year apprenticeship learning my craft. One outcome of that is that I have 40 years of manuscripts that demand I do something with them. The collections published to date were first written more than a decade ago, and mostly resemble memoir.
My more recent work, though, has much more of a speculative fiction feel to it – for example, what happens when an astronaut is trapped, alone, on a spaceship that travels at light speed away from earth. How does he live? What keeps him going? Does he go mad? I know the answer, now.
I wake up each morning expecting that I will write something new, that someone far away from where I am, physically, and who I haven’t yet met, will enjoy reading.
I love that need in me and the wonderful feeling of achieving it.
I’d love to find out more about your experience as a psychiatric nurse. What attracted you to this particular profession?
I became a psychiatric nurse because it was fated for me, I think, Marje.
Mine was an immigrant family who lobbed in Australia in 1957. Secure work was a priority for the adults, and working for the government was as secure as work could be, in that time.
The Mental Asylum at that time was a government run institution that utilised a core of untrained staff who were able to learn on the job, and over time, almost my entire family obtained jobs there – mother, father, sister, aunty, grandfather.
I swore they’d never get me!
I started psychiatric nursing when I was twenty, already with a young family. I enquired for a job as a cleaner, and was offered a place as a Student Nurse.
Fortunately, I turned out to be better at the job than some and no worse than most, so the work suited me well enough and I ended having a highly varied career in the public mental health services of Victoria.
I am still employed as a psychiatric nurse on a part time basis. You just can’t beat government work!
What is your opinion on the millennials? The youth of today seem to be suffering from so many mental health issues. What do you think is the source of their predilection to suffer in this way?
I admit to feeling a little isolated away from the millennial generation, if I’m being honest with myself. The nature of the social world we live in has changed so very dramatically, and in such a short period of time that I sometimes feel I have no valid reference points, and am in danger of becoming someone who can only relate to the ‘good old days’ of my own youth.
With regard to mental health issues, my work is in the public system, and so it is almost always associated with application of the current Mental Health Act and the application of treatment against the individual’s consent. Increasingly this is because of illicit drug use triggering a psychotic (or related) reaction. This is at the extreme end of mental illness, and not necessarily typical.
It can be dangerous and frightening for all concerned and I no longer work in acute units because I have largely lost my capacity for empathy for a clientele that repeatedly and knowingly places itself and myself in the way of harm.
Without empathy, I can’t perform my work in the way I know I should. It Is not work that an ageing old fart such as myself can keep pace with any longer, I’m afraid.
In certain circumstances do you believe that poetry can express more than prose can? Please explain your thoughts with examples from your poetic work to date.
This is a question that plays directly to my biases. Naturally I think poetry can express more, much more. However, I’m not sure that it often does so.
I have only started to contemplate prose and what I expect of it since beginning my own journey toward publishing my own work. Some of the things I see are difficult for me to assess well. For instance, contemporary prose seems to come – to be directed toward – groups of three or more, a little like Macbeth’s witches.
There is a generation of writers that is learning that the way to produce new work is to plot and plan in terms of prequels and sequels and spin-offs. This is all driven by marketing strategy in this modern age, of course, though for most I suspect there is no living to be made from the effort.
In addition, contemporary prose seems driven to fit within badged genre categories – the badge being the genre-characteristic cover, which has to identify all crucial aspects for a readership that is presumably not willing to test the contents unless correctly directed.
So, while prose can express much, and I like nothing better than a good book in my hands and some thoughtful stimulation, it is rare for me to encounter it without deliberate research or divine intervention of a random nature.
With regard to poetry, of course I believe it can express more. It is the medium of ‘show, don’t tell’. The medium of complete journeys packaged up in readings that require no more than a minute or a minute and a half to take the reader away, and to return.
In my own case, a collection of 8,000 – 9,000 words will contain as many as 50 such journeys, and tell a complete overarching story on the way.
Having said that, though, I am actually pessimistic about the state of published contemporary poetry. I am thinking here particularly of poetry published in literary journals that are, presumably, the benchmark for contemporary standards.
I feel that the art and gift of storytelling through poetry has been largely lost or relinquished in favour of the complexity of poetics and explorations of shape and form, rather than delivery of comprehension and greater understanding to a reader.
By way of an example, from my own work, of the breadth that can be encompassed by a poem I’ve recollected a poem written back in 2015 and looking at a number of different facets, different ways of considering a single concept – in this case Time. I think Time is a massive and complex concept to get my head around, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t try, and it doesn’t mean that my reader won’t be able to grasp it (and likely add examples of his/her own to take the ideas further).
Complexity doesn’t need to be inaccessible, and poetry is a wonderful medium to achieve that accessibility. Here is the poem ‘six ways to measure time . . .’ : https://wp.me/p7yTr8-3ag
I’m looking forward to your new release The New Asylum – a memoir of psychiatry. Is this a combination of research/your own experiences as a psychiatric nurse? Due to the sensitive nature of this collection what are the steps that you take to ensure this is presented in a sensitive way?
I’m getting quite excited about this collection graduating to book form. I think it is an important reflection and a kind of expose of public psychiatry, as experienced by myself in various guises, but also reflecting the perspective of clients of the service and their carers.
I have done virtually no particular research for the collection. The collection is my lived experience, drawing of course on knowledge acquired as a child, a student, a nurse, a manager and always as a human being operating within strange and strained parameters.
Most of the poems in this collection are sensitive in their nature. Highly confronting, in many cases, as well, with electro-shock therapy, seclusion and involuntary treatment, suicide and despair all featuring in different places.
These are difficult subjects, but they are increasingly a feature of daily life that none of us can avoid. Mental illness was once a secret thing, a taboo and a stigmatised shame to be kept locked away and out of sight. That is no longer possible, in my opinion, because extremes of mental illness are now residing in the back bedroom of our homes, over the neighbours fence, or on the street where the deals are being done, and in all of our hospital emergency departments.
Children can no longer complete their primary education without having acquired a better working knowledge of illicit substances in the district than their parents can ever hope to have.
I hope what comes through in the poetry collection is a sense of compassion and empathy for participants in the system – clients, carers and staff, but either way, it’s time for these things to be part of our everyday conversation.
What attracts you to the free verse form of poetry?
My, possibly too often repeated, personal mantra is this: Rhyme should be invisible. Free verse should be sung.
What I mean by that, is that the use of rhyme, when done well, is a subtle and nuanced thing. There should be no rhyme-clang at the end of every other line. I apologise to all rhymers for this comment, and I’m not meaning to suggest that rhyme isn’t just as valid now as it has always been, but in my own case, I largely stopped writing rhymed poetry when I realised just how hard it is to execute well.
I recall working on one poem for fully a day and a half to try to get right. Twelve hours and more, for a single poem. That is not like me and not acceptable to me. I persisted with the poem because I had a special purpose in mind, but I really haven’t bothered since, apart from occasional lapses that sneak up on me.
I like free verse as a form because I believe that there is music in our spoken language, and it is my job to find the music in whatever I write. I can’t do that if I’m fettered by the requirements of a rhyme scheme.
In coming weeks I’ll be leading a community education course (for the first time) over a six week period, in which I hope to explore exactly this – the music in speech – as a theme. I’m very much looking forward to it (though with some trepidation).
It’s clear that you write from your experiences in a poetic memoir form. For Devil in The Wind (which I enjoyed enormously,) an account of the horrendous Black Saturday bush fires, how much research did you do? And how many people did you interview? From this particular collection do you have a favourite poem that you would like to share?
I’m delighted you enjoyed Devil In The Wind, which I think of as another quite ‘difficult’ collection, given what it deals with.
Again, in terms of actual research, I did very little, and it was largely confined to ensuring that I had place names and particular fires (there were hundreds burning at the same time) correctly identified.
The poems in that collection were written as the fires were happening. As I experienced an event, I wrote it. As I heard a particular story reported on the news, I wrote it. As the Commission of Enquiry conducted its work, I wrote the stories.
I think some of the urgency and anxiety and despair we all experienced at the time might have been captured in the poems because they were written at the time the events were happening.
When I’m reading to an audience, I think my ‘go to’ poem from Devil In The Wind is a piece called ‘strength of a truckie’. This is one of four poems from the collection that I was able to have video recorded and uploaded on my very own YouTube channel (which is something I never expected to have happen in my lifetime!).
I hope to do some videos for The New Asylum before it is released, as well.
From your body of work which book are you most proud of and why?
The very first book that I self-published was called ‘The Book of Evenings’. It is currently out of print, though I think a re-publication is in order at some point. That is the book that I think I am most proud of. Not only was I ‘on fire’ as an emerging writer, but it represented something intangible for myself and my identity – belonging to a class of poets, of authors. Validation of my own secret self, now revealed.
There are a number of recorded poems on this page and readers are welcome to listen to any and all of them, but the titles from The Book of Evenings are: carmen and cisco, learning to twirl, and tuesday night at emile’s.
Small Town Kid is a poetry anthology that illuminates the experience of regional life as a child, in an insular town during the late 1960s to the mid-1970s, remote from the more worldly places where life really happens, in a time before the internet and the online existence of social media.
It is a time when a small town boy can walk a mile to school and back every day, and hunt rabbits with his dog in the hours of freedom before sundown. He can hoard crackers for bonfire night and blow up the deputy school master’s mailbox in an act of joyous rebellion.
It is a time when a small town teenager will ride fourteen miles on a bicycle for his first experience of girls, and of love. A time when migrating from a foreign country to a small town means his family will always feel that they are strangers, while visitors to the town are treated like an invading host.
It is also the remembrance of tragedy for inexperienced friends driving on narrow country roads.
This collection of poems and stories shares the type of childhood that has mostly disappeared in contemporary times. Come and revisit it here, in the pages of a Small Town Kid.
Devil In The Wind blurb
Devil In The Wind is an account of catastrophic fire and its immediate aftermath.
In this 21st century, the whole world seems to be on fire. America burns. Europe burns. Greece is reeling after its own tragedy of fire.
And Australia burns, as it has always done, but now so much more fiercely.
In February 2009, wildfires burnt through entire communities, taking 173 lives and injuring hundreds, while destroying thousands of houses and other buildings. Up to 400 fires destroyed 450,000 hectares of forest, native fauna and habitat, livestock and farmland.
In the aftermath of the fires, the voices of people who had lived through the experience — victims, rescuers, and observers — were spoken and were heard.
Devil In The Wind is Frank Prem’s poetic anthology of the personal, and very human, accounts of those who themselves experienced and survived Black Saturday. Poetry writing that interacts directly with readers emotions.
The New Asylum (draft) blurb
The New Asylum is the third volume in a series of free-verse poetry anthologies and personal memoirs from Australian author Frank Prem (Small Town Kid, Devil In The Wind).
This collection is an exposé of life in the public psychiatric system, spanning five decades and describing sometimes graphically, sometimes ironically, often poignantly, and always honestly, a search for meaning in extraordinary and often incomprehensible circumstances.
The journey begins with childhood experiences of watching immigrant parents earn their living in the Mayday Hills Mental Asylum… progresses through the oddities and antics of psychiatric nurse training in the 1970s… on to the high-pressure coalface of managing regional centres facing an inundation of modern urban challenges… and finally, settles into the generally calmer waters of a small town residential facility.
Join Frank Prem on his New Asylum journey, and discover what it means to become that particular ‘mental health creature’ that is a psychiatric nurse.
I think you will agree that this is a fascinating interview with Frank.
Do comment below, we would love you to join the discussion.