A quote from the introduction: ‘When we women write from our Women’s Spirit, we write with our pens oozing blood’ provoked in this reader an initial wariness that the ensuing pages would be drenched in cosmic/menstrual imagery. Thankfully, this was not so. Instead, this beautifully produced book contains a generous selection of pieces that reflect a thoughtful and at times humorous writer, with the emphasis on communication of personal insights and experiences rather than poetic craft. One has the feeling that Ms Brophy’s network of admirers is wide and many will find comfort and wisdom in these pages.

[Mercenary] is nimble
Does not trust anyone
draws his sword in a flash
before him
and with ease slashes a butterfly
which flew so childishly
out of the chrysalis of his heart
                       ‘Mercenary’

Translation is a kind of death, in which sense is reborn to a new life in a new language, hopefully with the spirit intact. Everything depends on the ability of the translator. In this bilingual (Polish/English) collection (Our Territory, Five Islands Press, $12.95 pb, 93 pp), too often discrepancies in punctuation and awkwardness of (English) language betray either sloppy proofing or less forgivably, lack of sufficient attention to subtleties. This intrudes on the poetry of the original language, which the reader can sense like a yearning behind the English, and fine poetry it is too.

Sufficient of Ludwika Amber’s voice makes the leap into English for this to be an interesting collection, with some moving poems about war, migration, distance, age, the natural/unnatural world. Some of the best come at the end of the book: ‘TheHouse of Unpeaceful Old Age’, ‘Sarajevo 1992’, ‘Mrs Bird in the Nineties’, ‘The Walking Stick’. This is Amber’s eleventh book of poetry, and with a poet such as Bruce Dawe happy to write a glowing introduction, one gains the impression that she deserves a similarly accomplished translator.

they began vaguely, dustings of skin cells
soap scents from one another’s bathrooms
then we read his eyes for what the other
had posted
pressed a new message into his expression
with our mouths
– and he flew like mercury to deliver
                       ‘other women / other messages’

The elegant cover design matches the elegance of the poetry (Night Reversing, FACP $12.95 pb, 56 pp). It also echoes the shadowy partialness of many of Yasbincek’s poems. In this first collection, it seems there are two styles at work; one which hints and leaves things unresolved, the other which (more satisfyingly) has focus and resolution. Poems in the first category seem to revel in their own ‘interiority’ (a description from the back cover), pleasurable mainly for the poet and those who enjoy constructing possible meanings. However, there are sufficient moments of communicative clarity in other poems to indicate a poet of skill and heart.

Among them ‘She is Teaching’, where generations form a chain of learning containing a world of history; ‘Night Fever’ captures the agony of parent and sick child (‘opening driven cries / crashing my dream / into my chest’); ‘Cows and Bulls’, ‘A Survival Thing’, ‘Izzie’s Dog’, where animals as central image speak volumes; likewise a man’s tattoos in ‘Laundromat’.

but not the
aerogram blue shoe with
laces because it was my
son’s No nostalgia for
boys then and I
remember the hurt
in a sensitive six year old’s
eyes which I still hold
against me cold as
swallowed glass
                       ‘Girls Only’

Lizz Murphy’s second collection of poetry (Pearls and Bullets, Island Press Co-op $16.95 pb, 78 pp) couples the assurance of an old hand with the verve of a newcomer. Perhaps it’s that Irish blarney that gives it the swing? The book romps along. Some poems tumble down the page without line-breaks. When breaks are used, it’s sometimes a puzzle as to why there – meaning and rhythm spill over to the next line by sheer momentum. Not always though, as in ‘Whiteman Mow your Lawns’, where rhyme creates the effect of a children’s chant, disconcertingly talking about a sex crime.

The poet’s themes range freely, likewise the language. Frequently the effect is one of words juxtaposed like strokes of paint – colourful and entertaining, although at times sense takes a back seat to verbal play. The strongest poems are those that relate an incident or observation, such as ‘Greenpick’, ‘Movies’, ‘Ellen Said’ and ‘The Retrain Refrain’, when the poet’s voice comes closest to natural speech. A lively read.