Download PDF Here 13th Anniversary
Live Encounters Poetry & Writing Volume Three December 2022.
Game day, poems by Emilie Collyer.
Game day
none of the strategies will work
it will rain on game day
ball slippery as a newborn
none of them know how to handle
grasping at torsos like tree trunks
they will keep kicking slant
seeking a pocket on the edge
of play but only finding
scrubby tackles and stoppages
it will be as if all the training
has been for nothing
captain playing with a strapped thumb
one player off then another
blood rule head snapped by an elbow
crash onto mud-stuck ground
straight kicks will wander
always finding themselves behind
as if they have forgotten how to run
clench of loss grips tight
they will want to cry and some of them will
in homes on couches they will want
to cry and some of them will
others will grab whatever slamming object
can absorb the hurt for a moment
maybe reach for it slam it
and once more saying
piece of shit team
or the boys tried hard
either way the next game
will come how to wait
that’s what matters
for the breeze to shift
or for the foot to steady
kicking into the wind
Corner of yellow
crowds like dazed sheep
gallery dream state just because
tourism because fame
but also the moments of arrest
a corner of yellow peels open a hole
shapes seem to sing
make you sad or gasp in recognition
a falling in love
teenage you
the top corridor room
pushing charcoal onto page
follow the curve
you drew ordinary people
old women park bench
guys at the local footy club
your best friend her shiny hair
last night television Rohingya refugees
a camp in Bangladesh
kids play net strung over dirt
keen bean boy eyes shining
excited at the camera
he wants to be a soccer player
practices whenever he can
he has no parents they were killed
that paralysis
why anything when that boy
why painting why writing
because soccer
reading Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed
you are on a fulcrum
are you oppressor or oppressed
what you can access is real it is material
walk out into calm streets
evening lit gold by the sky
in this suburb
would you walk alone after dark?
the question is not just about your body
in the suburbs at night, who else can’t walk freely
and you are both the person who can’t
walk free and the person who always can
you were terrible at art
but how you loved those classes
quiet work benches charcoal dust
fingers sunlight through glass
© Emilie Collyer
Emilie Collyer lives in Australia on unceded Wurundjeri Country where she writes across and between poetry, prose and performance. Her work is published and produced widely. Her debut full-length poetry collection is published in 2022 by Vagabond Press: Do you have anything less domestic? Emilie is a current PhD candidate at RMIT where she is researching feminist creative practice.