tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-193836012024-03-09T12:15:32.227+13:00AucklandPoetry.comFresh New Zealand Poetry
published on aucklandpoetry.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.comBlogger128125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-47628510599965020362009-01-09T19:50:00.000+13:002009-01-09T19:51:08.169+13:00Featured poems from aucklandpoetry.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-38439042031173656142008-12-14T15:29:00.003+13:002008-12-14T15:35:32.617+13:00Dried out OceansDarkness absorbed her black tressesto mask the deep seas that looked intently at me. This impenetrable night was deeper than the black oceans in my garden The squall had drowned and the tide ebbed, the taste of the salty drops still lingered.The oceans desiccated to the last tear,left no Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-13517761014521522882008-12-14T15:15:00.004+13:002008-12-14T15:20:23.885+13:00Hyde Park IShadow cast a languid paletteOf colours, clear and incandescent.Grey freen, mottled and blueImpressionist eye held the view.Through tall grasses dancingIn Parks expanse leading,My eye to follow a shadow to a water fountainIn reflective notes, it played happily in the fountain.And cheerful droplets rose to leadOnes eye to the great leafyGuardians of the park, heavywith their summer spread,Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-5312168962008314412008-12-14T15:13:00.003+13:002008-12-14T18:20:15.987+13:00The School of SleepOn waking from the deepest sleepI wondered, were life in reverse.If nights of sleep be school of lifeeach day a play we must rehearse.I’d have to study my behaviourselfish acts and maybe worse.a mind so full of petty thoughtsand maybe once or twice a curse.Maybe I should practise cautionindiscretion deemed perverse.Erotic sighs won’t pass this student, shock waves rock the universe.At dusk Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-84780230604393802792008-12-14T15:12:00.006+13:002008-12-22T22:38:05.765+13:00goodbyegoodbye smells musty, like old clothes untouched in the back of the wardrobe;dusty, like words on a scrap of newspaper that flutter from an opened book.goodbye smells like an old man who smokes and ate garlic last night, and the night before;warm, like tarmac in the middle of town in summer, after a shower has passed.goodbye smells like coffee newly brewing somewhere nearby, for someone else;likeAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-23055980831736214822008-12-14T15:12:00.004+13:002008-12-14T15:29:13.288+13:00An Overcoming.Midnight revolution of collective conscience. Watch your step, there's death on the footpath.And they overcame him by the blood of the faceless,Nameless, unseen martyrs.Dead in the streetlight; flare and gashAs the eyes drop. Down, in shame, in astonishmentThe just deserves of a life spent in captivity,The last reserves of a generation spent, spent,Spent, mother fucker.And what? They,The martyrs Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-61106647223383741682008-12-14T15:11:00.002+13:002008-12-14T15:41:00.831+13:00Love IntrinsicTime spent alone. Clock's ticking, fuckstick, go find a friend; your road to destruction will seem all the more stable with peer pressure humping your leg all the way. One by one, and two by twoInteresting people, with interesting friendsAn interesting place, and interesting timesOh, how they dance, and heave, and expel their forceful opinionOf politics, of life,Of the law, and of the direct Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-61931525195790183282008-12-14T15:10:00.003+13:002008-12-17T08:34:51.913+13:00Auckland City ElevatorAuckland City ElevatorUnapproachable and air-lockedStrutting for calculation and expectationHold the door, I'm going upYes yes yes, I happen to be well informed on the subjectYes yes yes, I happen to be wearing a flagrant tieStripes and spots, blotch and blemishWipe it off and start again. Mulish stares plus too pleasant an 'excuse me'Equals people I will never knowNever talk to, never meetWe Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-66555174289212165182008-12-14T15:05:00.002+13:002008-12-17T08:34:32.642+13:00When the Room's Full of ZebrasSometimes I poke the stars When the room's full of zebras I kneel When the room's full of cushions I stand There's much to be said for admiring titles So when you come I shall call you Your Honour Or joke about partridges, [the morning shoot] How the weeds are taking over the conservatory It would be so nice if a few special words were to fall from the sky, in a dome, a plume Rubbling the pathAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-18406269510758372982008-12-14T15:04:00.002+13:002008-12-14T15:38:31.726+13:00Dawn on my DoorstepA city was bornof a virgin junkie,And in him is lifeAnd the life is the light of men.Streetlights and shivelights and splatters on the pavementDictaphones crackle, creation stares down the barrel of a 45.And the light shineth in the darkness,And the darkness comprehends it not.Real people in nice overcoats and expensive socksStroll by, content and satiatedCome join the cause!You can't buy this Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-65211137373888875552008-12-14T15:02:00.006+13:002008-12-17T08:34:09.659+13:00all flesh is grassThe young blade dreams his days will passIn mexican waves of wind and sun,Light rain night-falling. This is grass.Life is a Meadow? Hope soon gone.The taxing mower descends, demands;In severing swathes are dreams undone.Truth is desire low mown, close shorn.Harsh years confirm the cynical view:That Life, regrettably, is a Lawn.- new westieAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-56169954938283467342008-12-14T15:02:00.003+13:002008-12-14T15:44:37.206+13:00cleansingcleansingWe spent the day in solemn meditation,Herb water was our only medication.Body and soul were one in mediation,Seeking for healing and remediation.After much contest, angst and agitation,The outcome of our corporate cogitationWas this resolve, proclaimed with animation;To censure all past sins in commination.Now we are clean and pure and whole, and wholesome.As paragons of health, we are Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-21220217487044036002008-12-14T15:01:00.004+13:002008-12-17T08:36:01.215+13:00Dont let the impossible prevent the achievable(inspired by "bang bang")Last night you tried to pot the moonBut hit the sky instead.A bird fell stuttering, spluttering, down,And smacked the daisies, dead.Mow over it, mow over it,Don't wait for it to move;Here is a target you can get,A hit that you can prove!I will not draw on distant moonsNor sight upon the sun,But wield unstayed the swift red bladeUntil the lawn is done.- new westieAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-33487741295055035322008-12-14T15:00:00.001+13:002008-12-17T21:33:58.274+13:00The Old PhotographA frozen point in infinity The lifeless flower’s vanity And the ever-smiling faces’ Arrested moments fading.Left behind to stand, constant Many left the scene, hesitant Pointless images, Irrelevant Showcase of absurd life, transient Strange faces near stained vases Stagnant shadows and rigid gazes The eyes forever waiting Wistfully anticipating Black distorting the white Like the night the day Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-15997235291848751952008-12-14T13:53:00.001+13:002008-12-14T15:54:55.656+13:00Chimera's SynonymsThe speckled snake is slain a legion of rats roared like the raging sea, the cat kept licking the milk, I looked at the ghost. Fish-reeking twists began to furl The moonlight smiled, but the rope did not budge, and the post stood erect. Bearded fakirs thronged the etherAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-77128549196761877052008-12-14T13:52:00.000+13:002008-12-14T13:53:26.666+13:00Morning Kick StartThe alarm goes at seven same time every morning I do the Sesame Streets Mr Snufflelafagus to the shower Detouring for the nicotine addiction on the way I soap and wash the residue of yesterday Then clothe and groom with a nostalgic fashion Then its Mr Snufflelafagus shuffle to the car Turn the lock, key the ignition and negotiate the driveway Satisfying the nicotine addiction on the way I join Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-91172797841014183672008-12-14T13:48:00.002+13:002008-12-14T15:53:45.388+13:00The dancerwhen you hit the dance floor my heart skips a beat of two when you start shaking i felt like my world stop moving it seems like theres just you & me on the floor.each time you move,each time you smile my heart keeps on moving fast and because of those graceful movements you have caught everybody's attention and start admiring you, especially it caught the insensitive heart of mine...Im proud of Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-13367461768927424522008-12-14T13:47:00.000+13:002008-12-14T13:48:19.149+13:00Blog reactivated as editing placeAucklandpoetry.com has a lot of submissions to sort through. So, as this blog is working again and WordPress has become too finicky as an editing tool, this is a useful staging pre-edit place.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-37426865971993609592008-02-14T19:19:00.002+13:002008-02-14T19:33:41.191+13:00Want to post your poems?If you want to post poems - you can. This site is only for original poetry under your copyright that you are free to add and delete via a google.com gmail account. The "main site" on aucklandpoetry.com accepts contributions which are then edited and a selection of contributions are then published in its home page current edition. We invite those who want to publish poetry or to read it to go toAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-8486379779563458422008-01-22T00:05:00.000+13:002008-01-27T15:37:04.824+13:00Back on the blogsAucklandPoetry.com is back again. Anyone who wants to post on this site may also do so, though the main site is visited more often.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-63842425788646863092007-10-08T09:33:00.000+13:002007-10-08T10:00:24.611+13:00Getting the best of our online publishingThis blog format works very well for building an audience but it is not that great at building a community. The aim is to create a vibrant online publication methodology that provides poets with interaction on the web while providing a history of poems submitted. One is very humbled by the contributions of some truly great voices. But all things seem to exist in time and people just come and Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-77206395062605248252007-10-08T09:20:00.000+13:002007-10-08T10:43:34.942+13:00wrong shoeAdopting the wrong pose at the franticmomentum to tear the roof from a child at a time when blossoms seem at odds with the humble existenceoutside of sharp edges and leaking worrypleading with the iciclesleaping from waving treeto wavering affectiondreaming of hot burnt teabefore the leaves have unfurledplacid in this intended infectionunruled by design no fault went blindthe wrong shoe is on theAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-61722495143964002232007-10-05T11:42:00.000+13:002007-10-05T11:45:58.244+13:00Standing StillNot the vapour that leaves the trees in the morningthat silent stream light fogdriven by limping memory Not the growth rings natures spare tyremarking age as thoughit were an event in itselfNomore grain invested ceilingsor laughter at dawnthat moment before you smilecollapsed about my eyesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-49627489903322768332007-10-02T10:55:00.000+13:002007-10-02T10:56:09.883+13:00Bernie KyleThe COACHByBernard V Kyle[C] 2004 In all fields of human endeavour,When we strive as we do, for perfection,What greater the need, than to really take heed,Of someone, who'll give us direction. A guide, a friend, and a mentor,A council, one can approach,One who is there to assist us,Who's known to all, as "The COACH." An Instructor who guides all our efforts,Who helps, when it comes to Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19383601.post-31818717319373708412007-09-18T13:22:00.000+12:002007-09-18T13:23:10.452+12:00New ZealandNew ZealandbyBernie KyleCopyright, 2003 Do you know where New Zealand is ?Oh where, Oh where, on Earth ?Is it big - or is it Small ?Just How Much is it Worth ??It's not so big, I must Confess,It's in the South Pacific,And Money isn't Everything !!The Country is Terrific.There's a green, green Land, & Mountains too,Within the Easy Reaches,And Walks and Lakes and Everything,And lots of Sandy Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17113426316236474278noreply@blogger.com0