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The Fulcrum.

Turning to the weather.


How easy an evasion from awkwardness

Once was this

Talk of the elemental?


What ticks the downpipe brings,

Inundated with flaring rain

And the trick of glass shuddering winds

This is the mourned at,

Longed for,

Tasmanian Spring.


In matters of fact

Summer: as here described,

Is envied by eyes, in that ash fulcrum:

Across the dark straight divide

Where firestorms fight fear,

Fragments of home



How, how they would long

For rain such as this, and yet,

The howling at the wind here,

And the lack of shear heat



All I know is all that has changed,

Look with me at the normal sea

One day my counterpart will,

Long after it’s gone,

Maybe sing its song..

What will this stretch of water be

for our supposed young?


What new age will steal their youth

In an era, where we’d begun,

And our efforts at that fulcrum

Of reason, all things being unequal,

Became undone.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
I'm only just back, the fires in Australia are beyond horrific. Where else to begin? Our PMs "prayers and thoughts" were not worth much for those calling for real action. i know someone who lost their house, twice. Yay, happy days! Just had to say something. Hope to write something more meaningful soon, but had to post something on this awful situation.
Editing stage: 


I particularly like how your first lines made me think how much talking about the weather in my lifetime has changed.

"How easy an evasion from awkwardness

Once was this

Talk of the elemental?"

It seems in all avenues of seemingly ordinary 'passing the time' conversation has now got an edge of fear or blame. I've even had a conversation today with a stranger on how they feel the Pacific Islands are sinking not that the sea levels are rising.
You said you want to write something more meaningful in the future, well I think what you wrote here is meaningful, deeply. Our changing pace, and the strength of stride we need to keep up with these changes.
And I write this as I've heard the siren's of 4 emergency vehicles rush past my building in the last ten minutes.

A very hard subject to write about and create a poem out of (that's not cliche, propaganda, or hyperbole) We all have to write poems like this. Yours is a success in that it is so honest and personal. I feel your voice in the poem. Maybe because its the simple language and ideas.
The poem is welcoming us to share your frustration and nostalgia.

But whereas all the great ant-war poems since WWI have not slowed down the pace of war, our poems about this catastrophe may not change much...but slowly (if not too late) it all adds us to something to be salvaged. So i don't think what you wrote meaningless.

I had a problem with the title and the idea of the fulcrum...i googled, and all I could find was it's part of a lever; I couldn't put it together from there. It is a great sounding word though.

nice to hear from you here again. May the internet signal be strong in your spot in Taz.


I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.
The fulcrum, being the world and our reason.

More to follow!

Chris Hall - Tasmania

Grossbooted draymen rolled barrels dullthudding out of Prince's stores and bumped them up on the brewery float. On the brewery float bumped dullthudding barrels rolled by grossbooted draymen out of Prince's stores.

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