Name: rob walker
country : Australia
bio: rob walker's most recent poems have appeared online in The Breath, Sidereality, Tryst, Plum Ruby Review, The Oracular Tree and Indie Journal (USA), Limestone, Snakeskin and Comrades (UK) Stylus Poetry Journal, Friendly Street, Numbat, Thylazine, The Curious Record (AUS), NZPoetsOnline, Southern Ocean Review (NZ), as well as some in traditional print form in Blue Dog Australian Poetry, Another Universe (AUS), Comrades Print and UNO anthology (UK.) Rob lives on a small farm in the hills near Adelaide, South Australia.
In addition to writing, rob teaches music and drama, and regularly performs at Adelaide’s Friendly Street Poets.
shorefishing at dusk
clicker baits snap
in a plastic bucket
seaweed scribbles on
a jeffrey smart canvas
rods are verticals straining
to the parabolic
sky awash whitening
horizonwards
a pointillism of cockles and pebbles
rippled sand solidified memories
of last night’s hightide
repeating itself further out
as whitecaps
lone vertical silhouettes
cast towards the horizontal
a kind of detached pride
that these independent figures
are our own children
The myth of gravity
gravity’s a myth
time sucks
once the shortest distance between two points an over fence leap. standing start. boing!
now a-b is
via a gate
earth sucks
with time
drawn
downwards
my head still
in clouds
body sucked
to earth
dig a trench
one foot in the grave
straighten back up
use more time
beware of holes
watch the earth
one day it won’t
let go
there’ll be no
back up
ashes
thoughts of worms fingering their pink way through
dark orbits of my late eyes gives
me some comfort
returning nutrients
to soil.
becoming soil.
minerals for the tap
root of some
weed
cremation seems more efficient
instantaneously unlocking
molecules atoms
dispersing the Me evenly
through earth's
atmosphere
ashes to the seven seas
circumnavigating earth without
fame or glory
counterpoint
South Australian Public Schools Music Festival
Sept 11 2003
we forgot the anniversary.
for a couple of hours
time’s hands were tied
children’s voices healed wounds
promised hope
a future
i’m just so proud o’ me daughter
said a man
from elizabeth
i forgot
pitch 
tone melody harmony rhythm
and remembered
why I do this
Somewhere in northern italy
sun bleeds into smog
acid stings eyes stream
lungs burn even cheeks
exfoliate
cooling towers solidify from
this toxic mist
yet locals are inured
like slowly boiling frogs
already happily beyond hope
we cannot help but think
we witness the beginning of
the end
