In this Friday’s column, KD writes about a keen cricketer, Hollywood’s all-time King of Horror, Boris Karloff.
Almanac Poetry: The Burial of the Sardine
In today’s poem, Kevin Densley winds back the clock to a poem he wrote in his twenties, based upon a stunning painting by Goya.
Almanac Photo Essay: The Course of a Day, Gherang, Victoria
In this Friday’s post, KD presents a photo essay, consisting of a series of skyscapes taken by him from his Gherang verandah.
Almanac Poetry: Vienna Dream
Although they lived in the same city – Vienna – in the same era, there is a school of thought that Schubert and Beethoven never actually met. Along these lines, this week’s poem from Kevin Densley speculates upon what a near-miss would have looked like.
Almanac Life (and Music): Sheepish Confessions
Sheepish confessions … we all have things we like that make us feel a little embarrassed, whether it be a band or film, or something similar. In this Friday’s column, KD makes a sheepish confession, and invites Almanackers to share one of their own.
Almanac Poetry: The Anni-Frid, Björn, Benny and Agnetha Syndrome
ABBA’s upcoming release of their first album of new material in 40 years reminded Kevin Densley of a poem he’d written, loosely based on fact, inspired by the band in their then retirement.
The Life and Death of the Johnburgh Hotel
This Friday’s column by KD is the life story of the Johnburgh Hotel, now a picturesque ruin in South Australia’s outback – it’s a tale of birth, youth, maturity and death, and virtually everything these stages of existence involve.
Almanac Poetry: The Artist Formerly Known
The history of rock ‘n’ roll contains many novelty acts and artists with quirky stage names. In this week’s poem, Kevin Densley charts the rise and fall of a fictional rock ‘n’ roller along these lines. [Very mild language warning – Ed.]
Almanac Poetry: Her First and Second Husbands
This Monday’s poem from Kevin Densley illustrates that, tragically, lightning can strike twice in the same place.
Almanac Poetry: In the Heartland
Politics can be funny at times, and members of the electorate can express themselves in a variety of ways. Kevin Densley recalls a time when George Bush Senior, on the US Presidential campaign trail, was mooned by an entire family!
Almanac Music: When Will You Fall For Me?
We all have those songs that go round and round in our heads, and get stuck there – this can be for days on end. In this Friday’s column, KD writes about his current one.
Almanac Poetry: Five Miles from…
In this Monday’s poem, Kevin Densley looks at the situation of the most iconic dog in Australian folklore.
Almanac Humour: He’s Got The Whole World In His Pants – Mondegreens
In this Friday’s column, KD writes about the unusual and typically amusing phenomenon of mondegreens – those mishearings/misinterpretations usually associated with songs and poems. [Thanks to ‘Swish’ Schwerdt for using the word in a response to a previous post of mine; it inspired this piece – KD]
Almanac Poetry: Irish
This Monday’s poem from Kevin Densley draws on family history, in particular his Irish ancestors, who, like many of their countryfolk, left their native land to start new lives around the world.
Almanac Music: She Passed By Me At The Fair (Song Lyric)
Something a little different from Kevin Densley – his most recent song lyric, written only weeks ago. ‘With Irish ancestry on both sides of my family, this lyric for a traditional-sounding Irish folk ballad was bound to come out sooner or later. Imagine these words in a brief, melodic song, wistfully sung.’
Almanac Music: Favourite Songs of the Half-Remembered Kind
Do you have songs you really like but, for an extended period of time, can only partially remember them? In this Friday’s post, KD asks Almanackers this question, and puts forward an example of his own.
Almanac Poetry: Triptych
Kevin Densley’s poem reworks a classic 19th century French painting into an imagined three-part contemporary picture that critiques today’s consumerist society.
Almanac Poetry: A Change in the Atmosphere
Kevin Densley describes this week’s poem as “full-on Gothic horror”; eat your heart out, Poe!











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