Poetry Forum

Grandad had a photograph -
one of two -
an aborigine in chains
surrounded by his wives.
A king, he said.
(The other was a ghost of his mother-in-law.)

Ian lived on our veranda
for a while.
A Boys’ Own dream
made of balsa wood,
paper with paint (the glue).
Bloody knuckles,
smell of castor oil and ether,
pair of strings -
the coming of colour.

Not-to-be-handled-by-children,
box brownie -
badly-composed, blurred
memories.
Photos like phone calls,
expensive – special!
(Smile! You little shit!)

He brushed on magic -
put pink on girly cheeks,
painted dresses with transparency,
skin too red for life,
greened dead trees,
made yellow (yes, yellow) suns
and ever blue skies.

Grandma kept the album -
all sepia and gelatine-silver.
She illustrated the tree.
Family historian
(Look! This is your father’s great uncle.)
Grandad provided the colour.

Couldn't ask for a better opener - really lays the bait

'Grandad had a photograph -
one of two -
an aborigine in chains
surrounded by his wives.'

The second verse could be confusing. 'Ian lived on our veranda'. Who was Ian? The model maker? The model? What was the model - A plane? A mannekin (the strings). I would say it was a plane - the engines run off paraffin, castor oil and ether, I only know that because I knew someone who flew them (I can still smell the mixture). Still, it's a powerful verse for someone who knows what it's about - the title becoming apparent.

'bloody knuckles' - nice touch.

Ah, the box brownie - I still have one, my father bought it just after the war - last used about ten years ago.

I take it that verse four is about colouring black and white transparancies - your description again is quite vivid (especially the pink cheeks and green trees).

'She illustrated the tree.
Family historian'

The final verse adds the seasoning - I think this is your best to date - The last line is quite touching -

'Grandad provided the colour.'

Yes, but not just to the photographs.

Good stuff.

Barrie

Hats off Dave. At first read it seemed a bit disjointed by the "Ian" stanza, but after a few (reads) it makes a pleasant side topic to add to the family atmosphere. My primary (state) school ran a model plane club, so I got the smell thing.

"Photos like phone calls,
expensive – special!
(Smile! You little shit!) "

Great read.

Mick

Yep, fine effort, good read.

Hear hear. Cracking stuff, Dave. (Did I just turn into Wallace?)

Photos like phone calls,
expensive – special!

Wahey! That's excellent.

Box brownie, eh - there's a mid 20th century madeleine if ever I saw one.

Good on yer mate. (Parlez-vous Strine?)

David

kozmikdave wrote:Grandad had a photograph -
one of two -
an aborigine in chains
surrounded by his wives.
A king, he said.
(The other was a ghost of his mother-in-law.)

Ian lived on our veranda
for a while.
A Boys’ Own dream
made of balsa wood,
paper with paint (the glue).
Bloody knuckles,
smell of castor oil and ether,
pair of strings -
the coming of colour.

Not-to-be-handled-by-children,
box brownie -
badly-composed, blurred
memories.
Photos like phone calls,
expensive – special!
(Smile! You little shit!)

He brushed on magic -
put pink on girly cheeks,
painted dresses with transparency,
skin too red for life,
greened dead trees,
made yellow (yes, yellow) suns
and ever blue skies.

Grandma kept the album -
all sepia and gelatine-silver.
She illustrated the tree.
Family historian
(Look! This is your father’s great uncle.)
Grandad provided the colour.

Okay, now I'm gonna practice my American Australian English.
I had a dekko at this, fair dinkum verse.

I'm guessing that the Boy's Own dream is a flying model
airplane. This is a fine, really fine, journey poem, back to
the past and a re-visit from the present, changed but
all the same. And so imagistic it's nearly a motion picture.

It's so nice now, if we want to colorize a picture, or repair
flaws, or even butt in a new background; whatever, we can
resort to PhotoShop and make anything we desire.

And what an old commonplace but now unexpected piece of
charm that was -- that description of the old style if-you're-
going-to-color-it-color-the-hell-out-of-it. I guess it helps to
be old enough to have seen it.

Once more, terrific show!

Gidday

Robert, Boys' Own Annual was a comic/adventure book designed to enculturate all us fellas into the ways of "boys". Had stories like Biggles, how to make things, like model planes, etc.

No need to give much else away. Barrie you were close enough. Ian was no relation but we always managed to have a spare floorboard for anyone in need. He was the one who coloured the pictures. Grandad's pictures were just interesting (read colourful).

Thanks all for appreciating it.

Cheers
Dave

While I did not "get" several of the images, not having been part of the motorized model plane group (we used elastics to power ours), the piece worked on several levels for me, particularly the box brownie reference. I found that whole thing evocative: I think it was the details that built on something stored away in me — a kind of memory montage. Good.