Irina Frolova was born in Moscow in 1981, in the former Soviet Union. She moved to Australia in 2003, and now lives on the Awabakal land in NSW with her three children and two fur babies.
Irina has a degree in philology from Moscow City Pedagogical university, and she is currently studying psychology at Deakin University.
Her work has appeared in Not Very Quiet, Australian Poetry Collaboration, Baby Teeth Journal, Rochford Street Review, The Blue Nib, and The Australian Multilingual Writing Project, as well as various anthologies.
Irina is a regular at Newcastle Poetry at the Pub where she was a featured poet in January,2019.
Her first collection of poetry Far and Wild was published by Flying Island Books in January, 2021.
Far and Wild speaks to the experience of immigration and a search for belonging. It draws on fairy-tales and explores archetypes through cultural and feminist lenses.
The following poems were included in Far and Wild.
how long
I could tell you
how the snow glistened in the midday sun
like razor blades
how we shivered
every time the bus stopped and opened its doors
glazed with frost
how I thawed my feet
on the radiator reclaiming my toes in a moment’s
excruciating victory
how on sports days
at school we had to bring skis as well as bags
of textbooks
how every family
with children owned a sled and some days we all
looked like Rudolph
how snowflakes
floated above us their perfect shapes melting
on our eye-lashes
how he kissed
me in the wind not caring for tomorrows
of cracked lips
how far
winters stretched from October well into April
most years
how odd
these parching southern summers have been
how long
Baba Yaga Next Door
Pigeon-feeding, vodka-drinking,
winking, grinning
no-fucks-given
silver-haired vixen. She
is a cautionary tale.
Some said loony,
others – lonely,
no one really came too close.
Fear the old maid,
watch the crone:
one, who dares
to grow old
on her own
tiny pension
in her clutter-filled room.
Are they skulls around
her home?
Will she eat your little kids?
Curse you? Free you?
Will she make you
see the forest
through the whispers
of the darkness
in the old bony trees?