Welcome to Phoenix’s world-changing Salon
A portmanteau. A treasure trove. A time capsule. A poetry book. A diary. A photo album. Memories. Dreams. Wishes. Hopes. An open letter to an unsuspecting public. An intimate confession to close friends. A declaration of intent. A whisper of love. A personal record. An experiment in introspection. A performance space. A political rant. A wild yawp. Why do any of us publish our words and images online? Come, dream with me.sharps (pot au feu)
i am sitting in a darkened cinema rolling a spiky metal ringup and down my fingerspressing in sharpto stop myself scratchingsigils into skin again it’s history soup that has been simmeringthrough generations...
Drifting
It's the weekend again and the rain lashes the windows.I'd had some thought of weeding the garden, but the windHas other ideas. These artificial distinctions we makeBetween workday and rest — we’ve been home for 63 daysAnd one blends into another. I could have...
The 6th Great Extinction
There are no platypus under the bridge again today. It’s the fourth week in a row and we all ask each other Instead of ‘hello’, “Seen any platypus?†— hopeful And each time, it’s “Not today… not for a while…†None of us know whether it’s...
Waves
A poem reflecting on the feminist work at WIRE I’m writing a letter to feminism: a love letter, A letter of longing, a letter of hope, A letter of rage, a letter of solidarity. There are echoes of us all through time, My fingers on these keys are at the same time...
Know-it-all
On the ascension of Scott Morrison to the Prime Ministership of Australia We’ve just swapped one psychopath for another, If we’re honest. It’s just that one wore the mask better. In truth, the challenge will always be that Father knows best, or thinks he does...
Beginner genie
This is where you make your wishes after all, three sheets to the wind, thumb rubbing up the brown glassy condensation, wistful, dreaming of Kristobal or Mirabella or Carlos, in your bars and your nightclubs, sweat and grind, the neck of the bottle between long...
Flotsam
These things are the signs that, despite everything,there is meaning and order in the world:Fibonacci spirals on shells and ferns,on cactus and fingerprints, hurricanesand the spiral arms of galaxies;lattices in chrysoprase and mookaite,lapis lazuli and malachite,...
2017 was born with a scream
1. 2017 was a good year for fear, a good year for screaming Not like some other good american years but it slid out of A year of celebrity death and televised suffering that we were all Only too happy to see the back of And in a year where somehow no one noticed how...
Paper and dust
Their shelves have always held mystery. Resist the urge to touch — cloth and paper and paint. I am close enough to breathe in Catullus and all his earthly urges, now sealed and almost erudite; So many spines here, leather and lust, dirt and distress. From Alexandria...
Numb in the whirlwind
I stand, arms outstretched as everything i know whirls around me Smashed into driftwood and debris by the tornado of circumstance They say justice is blind but I can’t help feel she’s blindfolded right now, Held to ransom as random injustice rains down on us —...
Time and love and magic on our side
We may not win the battle, she says. And while there’s always fear, somewhere down in the heart-sore depths of watching our children grow, there’s always fear that things can change in an eyeblink, that the wing-free lightness of the trilling dancers of a...
Unspoken
Inspired by a Tumblr post I now can't find... if you recognise the story, please contact me! There’s something about scarlet cushions and 1940s jazz, Dark bars and tiny crystal goblets filled with cloying golden wine And a promise of desire that draws me in every...
Precious
These are moments that you treasure, just sitting of a sunset, Shoulder to shoulder as you reminisce. And whether it’s Those memories of women’s decisions, the baby borne or the Journey halted, the intimacies and the violations, or whether It’s gasping hysterics...
Raw
(With thanks and gratitude to Robert Borden) 1. 2017 was a good year for fear, a good year for screaming Not like some other good American years but it slid out of A year of celebrity death and televised suffering that we were all Only too happy to see the back of And...
Trust
Step out with me — the rocks and the waves are calling and I have something to show you. Step out with me — the ocean is singing to me, songs of spiral shells, seahorses, anemones and brine. Step out — you’re safe with me. It’s almost midsummer, I know, but...
Taming the sea
I My daughter is stretched out on white sand, feeding the ocean. She says she is taming the sea — its wildness nibbles at her fingers. We have seen no dolphins today, nor any stingrays nor whales nor anything bigger than spiky brown coral that has washed up on the...
Place
There used to be water in California; snowmelt rushing through ravines to coalesce laughingly as lakes and lagoons and other summer indulgences. That was long away and far ago, in some strange before time when the land wasn’t riven with cracks and the heat had some...
Words
Rough-cut paper tells you it’s a first edition and the must takes you back — Years spent, nose down. Ink-smudges and fountain nibs, the romance Of Umberto Eco and sharp-edged medieval scores. There’s a deep Connection through time to these communities of...
Phoenix Emberstone
passionate political poet
These are poems and meanderings that made their way to the page. I’d love to hear what you think of them. Want to get in touch? Drop me a line!
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I am also known as Ro Bersten, a communications specialist with more than 20 years’ experience. See my CV and professional projects.
