Ghosts Struggle to Swim

Jane Frank

In this volume, poetry intertwines with memory to resurrect childhood and the haunting of lost people and dreams.

Poems explore the interplay between our former selves and spectral figures captured in the canvases of history. With vivid imagery and evocative language, the poems in this collection have been described as ‘pictures hung in a gallery.’

  • You once told me rose madder lake was your

    favourite colour. I always thought of tranquil

    pink water, a canoe being rowed with paint

     

    brushes as oars. You liked —I know —the fugitive

    transparency, and showed me the way Turner

    used it in his skies, explaining its powers of

     

    granulation. I kept a sample you gave me with

    its range of different depths. There’s a photo-

    graph of you next to my bed —I’d say you’re

     

    40. I see your cheeks and lips stained rosy

    despite the sharp morning light. The mouth of

    the Girl with a Pearl Earring was painted madder

     

    lake, but I’ve learned that since. Vermeer used

    rose madder to deepen vermilion, to stop the

    rich colour fading, to hold memory in place.

  •         after Vogelkomödie (Bird Comedy)

     

    I am pasting hieroglyph birds to my favourite tree

    like you said. My goals are clearer. The leaves are

    glowing like a vision now. Like coral. I am placing

    arrows to remind me of the child buried deep. The

    birds flew out of the cage this morning when the

    sun came up and I followed. All day, they have been

    laughing: at palms, at windows and now at the dark.

    How can I make these years meaningful? The best

    way is to add stars and butterfly wings, sails and

    steeples. That’s what you do. Don’t identify obstacles:

    avoid them. Good advice. Birds don’t have to be

    brave to fly. Watch them. The air catches their

    imagination. They ignore trends and insults, migrate

    to beautiful places where the trees are rose-coloured.

    Have a new set of birds for every day, you say.

    Keep smiling. Don’t ever stop painting the birds.

  • I wake when river stones bump against my feet.

    The current is strong—sometimes I fear being lost

                in the lines the swirling water makes in the dark.

     

    My boys never sleep—they swim in the kitchen, sleek

    with their backbones of silver, their tortoiseshell

                eyes. They speak in bubbles, dart joyously around,

     

    sway like kelp to Coldplay songs. Sound echoes

    off invisible walls. There are caves of cuttlefish stacked

                 alphabetically and a gleaming floor of shells. Three

     

    giant mantlepiece squid guard a tinderbox that won’t

    ever light. There is no way of telling nights apart:

                it is all khaki-blue. Floating above like pale

     

    kites—I try not to look—are all the beautiful souls

    we’ve known. Is it their memories that keep us from

                sleep or the far-off crash of waves?

Wide River

Jane Frank

Witness poetry carrying the weight of memory — a vast current of triumphs and missteps that have shaped the poet’s identity.

This volume reflects on the tapestry of her past that is interwoven with the profound influence of her father, an artist and guiding light. These poems serve as an homage and a reckoning, revealing the intimate journey of loss and love.

  • This evening feels like a date with Braque—

    lamplight monochrome, bottle and plate

    tessellated, crumpled napkin broken into glass

    shards, tablecloth shapes interlocking,

     

    overlapping. Until I ate them, the chicken

    and broccoli were perfectly spaced on the plate.

    I peeled onions for the sauce that fell in trans-

    lucent layers like days, but when I diced them

     

    they became just a formal element on the

    page. Even my thoughts are captions in papiers

    collés: just words in typed letters like Remember?

    and Wouldn’t it be nice? Perhaps it’s a trick

     

    of the light, or wishful thinking, but the salt

    and pepper shakers are moving slowly now like

    planets to the edges of space, away from

    ordered patterns within the confines of this frame.

  • If the door’s open when I lie in the bath, I can see

    your painting rinsed in soft louvred light. You

    sketched it from the top of the street. I visualize

    you still in old corduroys, notebook in hand,

     

    squinting at the sardined houses holding tight to

    hills, roofs patchworked in silver and oxblood,

    ridges of fig and jacaranda, stephanotis vines

    swallowing front fences and lantana-laced

     

    yards where chickens ran among vegetable rows.

  •  A bone broken by two people: the holder

    of the larger portion wins

     

    no wishbones drying on the window ledge

    in this house

     

    the Etruscans were the first to preserve

    a bird’s divine powers

     

    as I dried up, I’d rehearse the ritual:

    fingers curled lightly around a brittle furcula

     

    dreams of flight: the goose in the company

    of gods but why a perfect bone fork?

     

    There was a domestic magic that lifted us—

    that extra spring of hold and release

Jane
Frank

Jane Frank is a Brisbane-based poet who is published widely both in Australia and overseas.

She is the author of Ghosts Struggle to Swim (2023) and Wide River (2020), both published by Calanthe Press and has published work in journals such as Australian Poetry Review, Westerly, Antipodes, Meniscus, Shearsman, Other Terrain, Takahe, The Ekphrastic Review, The Mackinaw, London Grip, Poetry Ireland Review as well as in anthologies including The Memory Palace (The Ekphrastic Review, 2024), Poetry for the Planet (Litoria Press, 2021) and 100 Poets (Flying Islands, 2025).

Her poems have won, been placed or shortlisted for awards including the ACU Poetry Prize, the Newcastle Poetry Prize, The Thomas Shapcott Poetry Prize for an Unpublished Manuscript, The Arts Queensland Philip Bacon Ekphrasis Prize, The University of Canberra Health Poetry Prize and the Wigtown International Poetry Prize.

She lectures in communication and creative industries at the University of the Sunshine Coast where her research explores poetics, cultural sociology and the ongoing significance of books in the Digital Age; is Reviews Editor for StylusLit Literary Journal; and, as well as poetry, enjoys walking Comet, her black Labrador, by the sea.

Follow Jane at: https://janefrankpoetry.wordpress.com/ and https://www.facebook.com/JaneFrankPoet/

Publications

Jane’s poems have appeared widely in national and international journals and anthologies including:

Algebra of Owls, Antipodes, Australian Poetry Journal, Westerly, Not Very Quiet, Cicerone Journal, Cordite Poetry Review, The Blue Nib, Bengaluru Review, Backstory, Other Terrain Journal, Hecate, Meniscus, Meridian, Stilts Journal, Tincture Journal, Stylus Lit, foam:e, Blue Bottle Journal, Communion, Snorkel, Plumwood Mountain, Pressure Gauge, Uneven Floor, Verity La, Bluepepper, The Bimblebox Art Project, Social Alternatives, Live Encounters, Shearsman, The Ekphrastic Review, Antiphon, Takahe, Burrow, Popshot, Poetry Salzburg Review, Yellow Chair Review, London Grip, The Frogmore Papers, Morphrog, Northwords Now, The Poets’ Republic, Gutter, NOON, The Missing Slate, Local Nomad, Deep Water Literary Journal, Grey Sparrow, Skylark Review, Eunoia Review, Three Drops from a Cauldron, The Lake, The Cannon’s Mouth, Automatic Pilot, Open Mouse, Your One Phone Call, Streetcake, Snakeskin, Gold Dust Magazine, Nutshells and Nuggets, Shetland Create, The Wolfian, Sonic Boom, The Bombay Review and Silver Birch Press.

Poems have also been anthologised in Poetry for the Planet (Litoria Press, 2021), Grieve vols 7, 8 and 9 (Hunter Writers Centre, 2019-21) Not Very Quiet: The Anthology (Recent Work Press, 2021), Meridian (APWT / Drunken Boat Media 2020),  Aiblins: New Scottish Political Poetry (Luath 2017), Heroines: An Anthology of Short Fiction and Poetry (Neo Perennial Press 2018, 2019), Forty Voices Strong: An Anthology of Contemporary Scottish Poetry (University of Wisconsin-Whitewater, 2019), Pale Fire: New Writings on the Moon (The Frogmore Press, 2019), Travellin’ Mama (Demeter Press, 2019), Fiolet and Wing: An Anthology of Domestic Fabulist Poetry (2019), Spectral Lines: Poems about Scientists (Alternating Current Press, 2019), Dragons of the Prime (The Emma Press, 2019) and ITWOW International (2016).

Prizes

In 2020, Jane was runner-up in the Wigtown Poetry Prize. She was joint winner, in 2019, of the Queensland Poetry Festival Philip Bacon Ekphrasis Award for her poem ‘Afterlife’. She has twice been shortlisted for the Thomas Shapcott Poetry Prize for an unpublished manuscript— in 2020 for Wolf Moon, and in 2016 for Dancing with Charcoal Feet. In 2021, she was shortlisted for the Newcastle Poetry Prize. 

Performance

During the COVID-19 Pandemic, she participated in two poetry series: Hugh McMillan’s Pestilence Poems, and Queensland Poetry Festival’s Panacea Poets. She was a feature poet at StAnza International Poetry Festival (in Scotland) in March 2021. 

Other

Jane’s academic book Regenerating Regional Culture: A Study of the International Book Town Movement was published in 2017 by Palgrave Macmillan. It was adapted from her doctoral thesis of the same name submitted in the School of Humanities, Languages and Social Science at Griffith University.