Geoff’s other side

Geoff Page staged a launch of his latest book of poetry at the Paperchain bookshop in Manuka last night. There were a string of poets and friends, but also a cabal of Geoff’s jazz-attending mates. Geoff is a regular at the Loft and has run his own monthly jazz session for years and written poems on jazz and a biography of Bernie McGann and performed his poetry with some of the best offsiders around. But this is his other side. His new publication is Cloudy nouns and he passingly promoted another collection of travel poetry written in iambic tetrameter, ABCB. He was introduced by jazz trumpeter Alex Raupach; his book was launched by once Canberra Times literary editor Gia Metherell; Geoff chatted and read some poems; finally the session was seen out by Geoff’s partner, Alison. There were wines and cheeses and the place was packed and chatty, so this was a pleasant evening of enlightenment and considered language. Of the readings, I particularly warmed to a travel poem on a French church tower with its discipline of rhyme and meter and witty interplay of architecture and divinity. But it’s best just to let the words speak for themselves (with Geoff's permission)

Breton belfries

Breton belfries are entirely
labour, granite, bells and air.
Through them you catch a slope of wheat
sometimes houses, starched and spare.
More often low slung swells of cloud
or sudden reaches of the sea.
The belfries let the wind flow through
showing God’s transparency.