As we slept
the sea was endless and shone, in moonlight, heaven mirrored the sea; this was the moment, time ceased, they became one and there was stillness;
when the lovers parted no time had passed, land appeared and as the sea rippled on pebbled shores a reflective sigh echoed through the world.
THE STAG
BY
Bernard V Kyle
[c] 2002
Oh Mighty Stag on yonder Crag,
Thy stately form Elates,
And shows the World and All Therein,
What He above Creates.
For the Silhouette, that there Unfolds,
Is a sight from Times Primeval,
Against a moon that's waxes Full,
And Shines on things Coeval.
That Haughty head with Antlers Poised,
A'reaching for the Sky,
Enables that most Noble Stance,
The Dangers to Defy.
Yet be Aware and take good Care,
For Terrors lurk in Hiding,
For both Man and Beast and none the Least,
In ev'ry place abiding.
But Stag and Hind and all your Kind,
Have Graced us down the Ages,
So Pray continue on your Way,
As the World with Terror Rages.
*************
AucklandPoetry:poems
Piggle de biggle who gives snot
Tongue tied tongue tried
Leaves me to believe! Not?
All this for “Charlie brown shoes”
That better be a disguised top
Make do to Pluto we go
What colour is your pot?
Small Hooves
Slowly – carefully
So as not to disturb things
hidden in the dark
the shadows moved
dried leaves crumbled
beneath small hooves
weary green eyes peered
into the blackness
searching for signs
of danger – dynamite
a riffle shot echoed
through the valley
one shadow became still
dried leaves crumbled
beneath small hooves
a second shot rang out
she lay on top of her fawn
cherishing their closeness
one last time.
Lynn MacPherson
[All your words]
The day you had died, I found
An open door
To your sanctuary.
All your words…
Those inestimably brilliant portraits
Your rooms, deep in wood smoke and oiled leather
Those books, dusty windows onto other people’s worlds.
Even the worn carpet where your feet would wait anxiously,
fidgetty as mice, fretfully exploring other outcomes.
Your world was formed, as you were, by what others wanted to
say.
You feasted upon their experiences…
I once left my fingerprint in soft dust on a smoothly painted sill,
Hoping you would summon me, demand my simple explanation.
Outside rain hung like winter-sleepy bees, visiting the elder
and tiny courageous apple one last time.
They have out-waited you, who were not my friend.
And all your words,
Not of encouragement or even love.
But of condemnation, the way impatient storms
brush aside empty dinghies,
hungry for larger shores.
We never danced in syncopation, you and I.
Instead we stepped within each other
And grew separate…
[The crows upon my tongue]
It’s a cold place inside
a discarded man
Do you remember the first morning?
You brought me juice and a flower
I lay across your thighs
and counted your smiles
Your eyes warmed my skin
Your hands led me across
the adventure of your body
We were children for a day a week
Was it that long?
And now those same eyes
are broken windows
as barred and forbidden as caves
beneath the waterline
Last night we fought again
Two insects leaping at the glass
Bruising splitting with every blow
Today we limp uneasily
My tears puddle uselessly inside
A silent haemorrhage
Whilst yours are greedily drunk
By your sisters
What will you tell them?
How much have we forgotten?
There are two ends to every journey
Two threads unraveled
Two lives pecked apart
by the crows that live upon our tongues
[Whimsy number 1]
There are morning when a man awakes
to find that he has lived the wrong life.
All his friends are fenceposts
or have lost themselves among queues
of willow.
The soldiers came last night, they say.
They smelt our fear and made a soup of it.
Still the sparrow visits each tree, stopping to
compose a poem upon the barbed wire.
The oranges hang gladly in the orchard
behind the moss and bricks.
the rotten, rusty bucket
dreaming...
Incidentalism
the progression features
a whole like this
host of characters
Armagnac the baker
of living goods
Beelzebub who manufactures
cakewalks in the rain
Cornhusker the world-beater
and his theatre of cruel ties
an Alpha Beta of assortments
Devlin the mongrel wear
of debonair defalcations hawks
Evangeline who sings in the shower
of golden mythology
Franz the pipe merchant
laid end to end to end
Graham of the dyspeptic crackers
mercifully really keening
Horatio wandering endlessly
in a forest of speculation
Iona with a room out back
and a hayrick bed
Joseph wandering aimlessly
and plumb tuckered out
Kevin who wants to know
whither you are bound from where too
Lyle the oceangoing sailor
and his travelogues so fair
Montgomery the placer-mining
company man upon his feet
Nils who never seems to know
what is expected of him anyway
Olivia the trade school mascot
barking up the wrong tree
Quentin always asking just when
no wrong questions are needed
Ronald who wants to know as well
what wonders world last where
size more than actuality
is a persistent claim to fame
Susanna would like to hold fast
to the adherents of malefactors
Tompkins wants to know still more
than daily bread and wine and water
Ursula has her cave and friends
who keep a time clock stamping
these are the professional elements
Veracity has her place keep clean
she says the memory of that
Waldemar has this to say
upon the rocks seals bark like dogs
Xenos has a friend in the business
wants to know if there are any connections
Yarby has a steeplechase to ride
around the track (was here to there)
Zeb has this to say at last
my friends there was a man here once
at the tradeware conference they sing
and submit their papers on the thing
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Copyright © 2006 by AucklandPoetry.com
For her song
to have never seen the bark protect the tree
or have neer seen the wood underlying it...
the difficulty is where we are
stranded here between one another
locked in doors that stay any breeze
adapting to new songs
between the weeks
passing by
ludicrous assumptions
turning back the steam
inverting the process
swaying the location
for the point of view
shaking the ground - in other words
turning heads as we pass
placing names in the new phone book
that arrived in the letterbox
as we pass through this time booth
and laugh at our mistakes
we face the future
with our eyes
7:36am
1 April 2006
