The Kindness of Water – Helen Jarvis
In our twelfth episode we discuss the work of one of our very talented local poets, Helen Jarvis, who has just released her first collection, The Kindness of Water, published by 5islands Press. Helen grew up in England and now lives in Melbourne/Naarm, where she teaches English. Her poetry has won many awards and has been published in journals and anthologies.
Poems discussed in this episode:
Compositor
My father was a hand compositor.
He filled each frame with characters in heavy
metal fonts, from left to right, with the nick upwards,
gauging the gaps between the words,
ens and ems of white space
to fit the forme.
He loved the old serif fonts, born of
prototypes hand chiseled with precision.
He scorned their digital ghosts,
that flex and shift to fit a screen,
approximations that bear clean sharp lines,
not the jag & blur of fresh ink.
When I write, I am bound
by the metallic tang and heft
of hand-forged galleys, framed by his eye
for cool white space,
the hot metal in my veins an unholy alloy
of Thames clay and the silt of the Yarra.
And whether you hear my voice
clothed in the centuries of grace that is Garamond
or in the jaunty flapper rhythms of Eric Gill,
you’ll glimpse the imprint of my father’s hands—
their dance within the margins—
that lends form to the body of my words.
The poem ‘Washing my Mother’s Hair’ or ‘I Wash My Mother’s Hair’ is available on Island magazine’s website:
https://islandmag.com/read/washing-my-mothers-hair-by-helen-jarvis
Restless
In my mother’s country, I trace the fleeting shades
of childhood. Throats gulp plosives, pitched too high;
I wonder how I’d sound if I had stayed.
Out on the estuary, sanderlings serenade
the wind, skim the goose-tide that wanes and sighs
in my mother’s country, tracing fleeting shades
through spiral casts of lug-worms, silt and clay.
The streets flow polyester. Walking them, a spy,
I wonder how I’d sound, if I had stayed.
The lovely buildings crack with rain, decayed;
department stores now reek of vapes and fries.
In my mother’s country, I trace fleeting shades.
My mother’s mind runs restless as the waves.
Mired in unyielding time, the days slip by.
I wonder how we’d sound, if I should stay.
Down in the eel-grass, stints and dunlins wade.
I wish her calm, between saltmarsh and sky.
In my mother’s country, I trace fleeting shades—
a daughter—wonder how I’d sound if I could stay.
Piano Concerto No.2
An upstairs flat in Leeds—the broken bed,
with Shostakovich playing, and the red
and cobalt glass that throws splashes of light
across your chest. This feeling that we might
not ever move from here again. My arm
at rest upon your hip, the piano calm,
andante, settling sweetly on that long
and lovely movement, following the strong
triumphant wildness of the earlier score,
awash with newness, and with something raw
and tender that I don’t yet understand.
Your breath, the dusty ceiling rose, your hand,
its fingers curled in mine; so let me keep
this record as the music dims, as sleep
drifts in—the crackling stylus, your soft face,
and evening shadows slipping into place.
Announcements:
The Fortnightly Pier Poetry Group, facilitated by Peter, has changed its meeting time to Wednesday evenings from 7. 00pm to 8. 30pm at the Louis Joel Arts + Community Centre (5 Sargood St, Altona). The next meeting will occur on 5 November. Come along if you love talking poetry.
The Louis Joel Spring Program is now available by following this link - https://www.ljac.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2025/09/FINAL-2025-LJAC-SPRING-Program-A4.pdf A veritable feast of activities are available.
We would like to hear from you!
If you would like to be interviewed about a poem or if you just want to share your love of poetry, send us an email on ljacpoetry@gmail.com. Constructive criticism and praise are welcomed. Currently we have a focus on a favourite poem you were taught at school or during your childhood.
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Credits:
Hosts: Peter Roberts & Colleen Murphy
Original music composed by Andrew Gilpin and Sam Price.
Editor: Colleen Murphy
