Ancient Modern


In the seventies

old souls with young faces

went looking for revolutions’ places

found heroes called Bob Dylan

looked in music for something

more than melody

danced with metaphors deep

and blue.


Now young souls with old faces

say, ‘Who on earth was he?’

and one wonders is there any

such thing as


to the old and young set in stone

are they open to change?


When will young faces have

young souls

and old souls have old faces

Or is it all a dreamer’s mask?

And a distraction to the true task

as we all face the fading of our bones.


To live the poet’s life

let the words

find the souls they belong to

doesn’t matter old or young

look beyond the face

listen to wisdom from every voice

keep alive the questioning of youth


and in the silence after


the open door.


(c June Perkins


Dancing Light
Studies in Green Light – By June Perkins




Sand in the Sole

Allan Lake in Italy – one of the places that inspires his poetry

Today’s guest poet is Allan Lake. I’ve known Allan since I was in my teens growing up in Tasmania. He was one of my poetry mentors and I occasionally looked after his vibrant daughters. 

All of them have grown up into beautiful and talented women.

During his 13 years in Tasmania Lake published his first collection of poems called Tasmanian Tiger Breaks Silence (1988) which was followed by a small volume of 4 poems called Grandparents:Portraits of Strain (1994). * Both currently out of print. He also edited 11 volumes of Traks, the poetry annual by Tasmanian high school students.

Traks was one of the first places to publish my poetry when I was in highschool and it gave me that writerly buzz of being published which has ever since been one of my greatest joys (apart from having a family and coming out the other side of a cyclone.)

In 1995 Allan contacted me to say if I wanted it I had a paying poetry gig at the Tasmanian Poetry Festival. ‘Are you kidding, being paid to read poetry, yes, I’ll be on the next plane.’

It was a beautiful gift to go and read poetry back in my hometown alongside Chris Mansell, JS Harry,  Jenny Boult, and Dipti Saravanamuttu and of course catch up with and listen to works by my former poetry mentor Allan.

Now fast forward to 2015, twenty years later and I find Allan’s life had undergone some major changes, but he is still as always a poet and his own unique self and often humorous self. 

I receive Sand in the Sole by snail mail, and after many weeks, enjoying reading  and reflecting on the poetry within, I suggest an interview.

Allan Lake in Sicily – a favourite moment having just had a great day in his second home

J:  What were your main inspirations in writing the poems for Sand in the Sole?

A: My inspiration can be a single image (An Engagement), a dream (Fish), the rhythm of a single line (Lost Line Dept) . . .  an experience(Sand in the Sole)


A speckled trout swims
in the rocky stream, the stream
that talks through the trees at
the bottom of a gorge. And I
have no net and this I regret.

And although this fish has eluded
me, I know the spot & have
learned to be patient and I shall be
better equipped in future.

that particular fish becomes art,
leaps into metaphor and swims
at me now and will continue to
do so. Aha! That fish caught me.

(c) Allan Lake

J: Have you performed all of them live?

A:  I tend to read/perform some of the poems and leave others to be read by others at their leisure. You know which are going to work aloud and which you enjoy doing.  ‘Venice, a Trip’& ‘Open House’ are favourites. ‘A Cinema Paradiso’ is naughty so audiences blush and enjoy that one.

J: What is your favourite one to perform and why?

A: In this collection I would nominate different poems on different days.  It’s like choosing your favourite child.

J: Are there any you would not read to an audience and why?

A: There is an audience for every poem in the collection.  If I didn’t believe that I would have pulled the poem out.  And I pulled several out  and set them aside.

J: In your poems I notice a lot of biblical references, nature, places you have lived or visited like Sicily, Tasmania, Canada, sense of holiness, and a sense of epiphany  – there are often layers of meaning under what at first seem like straightforward lines…How would you describe your main influences – poetically (other poets or writers) and life?

Emily Dickinson:  How original are her thoughts!  How haunting the imagery!

Lawrence Ferlinghetti:  Rhythm

Bob Dylan: Rhyme, the surprise directional shift that works.

William Carlos Williams: Tenderness & delicacy.  Fearless minimalism.

Allan Lake: He shares all his ideas with me.

Walt Whitman: for being Walt Whitman.

Pessoa: for everything alanbookcover I’ll feature some poems of Allan’s works from Sand in the Sole in Ripple Poetry in the upcoming weeks so stay tuned.

If you can’t wait then and want to read the whole collection  now definitely go purchase Sand in the Sole on Amazon


Hellos of the human race
Are wayfarers in outer space
Searching into future time
Reaching memories so sublime.

Wayfarers in shifting space
Mix Dylan’s songs of human race
Dancing with the dust of stars
To the future we might be bizarre?

Hellos circle stars and moon
Humanity longs for a cocoon
As child soldier hides in the wheat
And tides move the world’s heart beat.


© June Perkins

Originally posted here Hellos in Space : Image Credit: Paulien Bats

Protest in poetry


Joe told me that poetry can be beautiful
for beauty’s sake and speak of love
and roses and all that jazz

but it can do more
you can be like Dylan and Seeger
speaking up for what you believe the world
could be and try to capture the
losing of dreams we must strive to keep

Now is the time for youth to make an army of guitars and
chant in the singing wind
Where are the answers? Return the answers in truthful breeze.

Can we blow them into a poem of anguish and angst
that wakes the social justice sleeping somewhere in this land?

Were we too complacent, distracted with our dreams
to see the arrival of the Hollow men?

(c) June Perkins

A Baby Smiles

Kyaabo – Flickr Creative Commons

A baby smiles
she survived the rubble
in Japan

a writer smiles
she saw a rainbow

a walk with bright yellow umbrellas
in the rain

a feeling that life
will go on once again

sending off packages of illustrations
and words
to meet dignitaries

wondering if they
will hear our joy
as well as our sorrow

a walk with purple orchids
in the wind

true friends emerge
to give us

firm and staunch
hearing our sorrow
and our joy

turning myself inside out
and upside down
to walk with peace

harmonicas on a Sunday
show that birthdays
can be cool in
a Bob Dylan kind of moment
for the young

cyclone forged friendships
will go on

surviving all the loss
we cannot know

embracing all the human depths

By June Perkins