Once on the old port of Sunda Kelapa, Betawi cradled the East Indies spices. When tropical rain poured over her plantations of mangosteen, hibiscus, guava, nutmeg and cloves, she would surrender to the heat under her banyan tree and sleep heavily. In her youth, she bathed in the sap of pomelo rind and her nipples … Continue reading
In my hard boots I wandered into a field of thistles crushing violet weeds, bits of bricks and tiles, broken glass from a house I once knew. My mouth was wild, foaming her name. I heard my child’s moonless moaning and my house bursting into a cake of flames. After the rain, by the river-death, … Continue reading
Do not say a prayer, shed a tear, nor place a wreath on my grave, but bury me instead under a mangosteen tree once I’m stiff like lead. Once I’m dead, drip mangosteen milk, and wring the sweet white arils till its juices soak my funeral shroud. And when I die, embalm my head and … Continue reading
The gods do not make great-grandmothers like they used to. Mine reeked of damp earth, nutmeg, grew betel vine to feed her habit, chewed and spat betel-quid till her lips ochered and teeth blackened. She reeked of damp earth and nutmeg, plucked vine leaves at subuh, wrapped them into quids, chewed and spat them till … Continue reading
Mona Zahra Attamimi is Arab-Indonesian, born in Jakarta. She lived in Washington DC and Manila before settling in Sydney at age nine. Her poems have appeared in Meanjin, Southerly, Mascara Literary Review, and the recently published anthology, Contemporary Asian Australian Poets. She has studied Anthropology and Women’s Studies at The Australian National University and the … Continue reading
The dull chock of carrots, free-wheeling turmeric circles on the chopping board say I am home again. The creaking of the eaves against the retreating sky speak of cold windows, the eyelash-and-louse tobacco loose in the top-right-hand draw smells like my father’s office, half a world of time away. In the garden a lemon tree … Continue reading
These are absolutely delicious. Put them in pita bread, a burger bun, or on mini skewers and serve them as appetizers at parties. Use your imagination and serve them any way you like, with salads or in a roll with lettuce cucumber and tomatoes. If you can’t have dairy products they taste just as delicious … Continue reading
Blue water and blue fibreglass reflect the sun. Salt and cinnamon grease our battered skin and pumpkin flesh. Still-damp costumes chill our nipples and trace wide outlines of our arses on the lounge. I have the Jack of Diamonds. It’s my left bower. I shuffle my suits to suit this new addition. The breeze is … Continue reading
This is the season for silverbeet or chard, and I love to serve this salad warm in winter. This particular salad uses the stalks of the silverbeet which many people tend to discard. It is my version of a Lebanese salad which was invented to make use of the stalks which are usually left behind … Continue reading
The Darker Continent Sestina for Elizabeth Bishop Step off the pier and into the unknown, flushed from the balmy cabin, out of breath, piqued by dreams of a feathered samba dance, your heart is like a squirrel in a cage, preparing eagerly to test the dark: the frontier you imagined ‘cross the sea. What drove … Continue reading
Tegan Jane Schetrumpf lives in the small coastal town of Budgewoi, and writes poetry, essays and creative non-fiction. The writers she most admires are Sylvia Plath, Gwen Harwood, George Orwell, Jorge Luis Borges and of course, Shakespeare. The cuisines she most admires are Mediterranean and Asian, but she’ll eat anything vegetarian. Tegan was educated at … Continue reading
I am shadow I demarcate one blade of grass from its brother and unite objects together on the wall hat-stand couch- corner pot-plant I make shape out of line and frame form I follow and lead I am shadow black bird in water twin in air I take flights of fancy that cost nothing It … Continue reading
This is a great recipe, the red lentils take away from the sweetness of the pumpkin and makes for a great texture and taste. The first time I ever tried pumpkin soup was at a friend’s place after I came to Australia. I thought it was interesting but found it a bit too creamy. So … Continue reading
Sometimes heart or head leads you by the hand on hill walks To the sudden sparkle of water seen through trees metallic glint of shot silk and silver To the serene surface of one-of-three dams and the ducks held tight by the water’s skin pulling at its seam pleating its calm dragging the thin top … Continue reading
Funny how a yawn travels through a room a pied piper gathering all the rats In that instant we all draw from the same source a great swallowed gasp shoved into our lungs like socks stuffed in a bag and the long outward sigh That we try to hide it up our sleeves makes us … Continue reading
Many things have a grain best not to go against Even slicing ginger we come across it the fibrous root close enough in this way to its woody neighbour oak or pine An anchovy can be slid along the tongue only in one direction without the salty bristles catching A dog, a fish, a man’s … Continue reading
Sarah Rice is an art-theory lecturer, visual artist and writer. She holds a PhD in Philosophy and a Graduate Diploma in Visual Arts. She currently lectures in Art Theory at the School of Art, ANU. She works collaboratively with visual artists, runs art/poetry workshops, and gives poetry readings in the ACT and nationally. She was … Continue reading
As wave is driven by wave And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead, So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows, Always, for ever and new. What was before Is left behind; what never was is now; And every passing moment is renewed. As I was walking yesterday, these autumn leaves scattered on the … Continue reading
How the Dusk Portions Time Then one evening, after the gallery, hung with invisible abstracts, you take me apart to flesh the miniatures: a fleck of craquelure, speckles of mascara from my shadow eyes, already panda-streaked. I fail to notice how you slip the pieces in your coat pocket. Distracted as I am by wolf … Continue reading
Okra is a vegetable that is not used that much in the West but I absolutely love it. It is sold either fresh, frozen or dried and it has many health benefits. Some people might not like it because it can be gooey if not cooked properly. This problem is not an issue if you … Continue reading
Poem and Dish 