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Index to Wilson's poetry
Full version
Children's poetry titles index
Children's poetry: index with descriptions
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Poetry pages
A long narrative poem, it spins an imaginary tale. Imagine that the spirit of Walt Whitman comes to life in one of the books on Oscar Wilde's shelf. This book is forcibly sold at auction so that Wilde can pay his legal expenses in his legal defence against the father of his lover.
Whitman's ghost swears that he will not sleep until Oscar Wilde is avenged.
This book, containing Whitman's ghost, is taken to Australia and passes through various hands until a fitting and just resolution is made.
A blessing to my friends
A sacred blessing.To change or not to change
How do we change when our insides want to stay the same?
This is one of the main concerns of my life and work.He beat my sisters and me
Father's compelling reason to beat the speaker of this poem.To Henry Lawson
When I discovered that I lived near where Australia's great poet had lived, I had to write something.Who am I?
I hope you'll try to work out this rebus-like puzzle poem.
A true story (The Ghost Grader of Broken Head)
I wrote this long poem years ago after visiting Broken Head beach in New South Wales, Australia. On the way down the winding dirt road to the beach, there was a sign saying 'Grader Ahead'. On the way back up there was another sign saying 'Grader Ahead'. I figured there must be a mystery in there somewhere.
Desultory talkin' World War III philippic, or
how I was William F Buckley'd into agreement
When people decide to use war before they have tried everything else, I consider them mad and stupid. I pulled over the side of the Hume Highway one night after these words came to me, and scribbled them on a scrap of paper.Dickinson sorcery
I love Emily Dickinson, but, as with many poets, I become lost in her obscurity sometimes, and often overwhelmed by her brilliance.Afghanicide
Written about the time of the US invasion of Afghanistan. Although a sort of peace and some liberty were restored to that country, I've not changed my mind that killing is the way to attain such objectives. Human beings can think up better solutions. Have you noticed that our 'leaders' never spend money establishing think-tanks on the subject? They don't trust us because we would soon come up with workable alternatives to the fruits of their bloodlust - why should we trust them?
Bulldozerman
I heard a true story about a bloke whose wife left him so he bulldozed the house.Climbing roses
Unrequited love.Out of time: a song in millions of parts
About the murder of John Lennon.Candy-ass Sun King
About my disillusionment with Elton John.
The Long Day Child Care centre
Rollicking song about modern parental attitudes - just send the kids to day care.Reds under the bed! Reds under the bed!
About pseudo-intellectual hypocrisy.For a grieving family
A family I knew lost a child to cancer.
My Sharon-uh, by The Shmuk
My musical tribute to Ariel Sharon, visionary statesman.Mojo woikin
I always wanted to sing the blues about my mojo, whatever the hell that is.Break the chain of command
I hope some readers find this inspirational. The big crimes of the world, such as war. depend on our complicit agreement.A cauldron of changes
Change, change, change - we need more change.On Marx's diagnosis of human nature
Are we selfish because of our economic environment, as the Marxists would have us believe?
Summer's coming
About my childhood in West Pennant Hills, where I was allowed to be a child and the bush was my second home.On the fading of delight
Our generation seems not to have the delight of our forebears.I think it in banana
I try to write what I think, but can't. And I would like you to read what I wrote, but you can't. We all have different languages. So how can I communicate?
Plagiarism is the sincerest form of theft
Robert Zimmerman: I owe him so much I can't begin to express it.
Temple of Baal
An 'on the road' fantasy.Volcanic sunsets, Sydney 1991
After the volcano, there was a sky like I have not seen before or since.No, son
An object is not just an object, but a window on paradise.
Vastlands of innocence (July 4, 2002)
A tribute, and plea, to the USA.The king's shilling
I was pressed into service. Can I measure up?Diamonds of great clarity
A 60th wedding anniversary sonnet, for LS & FS.Fox among the hens
A man; a woman; what divides them; what unites; assumptions. One of my favourites.
Hail song
Hail is one of my three totems, the others being kookaburra and platypus. Since discovering this, I have found hail appearing in my life at intense moments. I have even sat in my car as it was destroyed by hail twice as big as baseballs, and it hailed at my wedding, that marriage being disastrous to say the least. This poem was written many years before both events.6 a.m., travelling on the Trans-Australian
Written many years ago during one of those moments
when the beauty of morning is almost too much to bear.Rotten luck (to J-9)
Sometimes a streak of lousy luck can be so mean.Recalling the holidayness of life
There is always some beauty around us, but sometimes, as expressed here, it's awesome.
Attention please shoppers. Would the gentleman in Aisle 3 please come to Checkout 6. We still have your umbrella.
Poets have to go to supermarkets just like normal people. Sometimes, however, beauty can get in the way.The valleys of the moon
Just a short piece about love on a warm night.Don’t clone me until I’m dead.
Better still, after the Raelians are.
Jan 5, 2003, after reading about Rael and the clonings.If I snuff
How to have fun at my funeral; plus a swipe at modern poetryI have
The blessings sometimes aren't enough
I could not tell a lie
From a true story concerning the last execution in Australia. Ronald Ryan's judge satisfies his conscience with an appeal to HeavenMoonflower
When we have a very close friendship with someone, it will alter when they find a lover
Avalon justice
A poem I wrote in 1991 about justice, injustice, unrequited love, the right of one to mourn for oneselfTo Everypoet.com
Venting a bit of spleen at those using poets as cash cowsBello Ramble
Something about where I live: Bellingen, NSW, AustraliaSometimes grief descends
How grief can mysteriously fall out of even a blue and sunny sky
