AucklandPoetry.com

Featured poems from aucklandpoetry.com

2009-01-09T19:50:00.000+13:00

Dried out Oceans

2008-12-14T15:29:00.003+13:00

Darkness 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

Hyde Park

2008-12-14T15:15:00.004+13:00

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,

The School of Sleep

2008-12-14T15:13:00.003+13:00

On 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

goodbye

2008-12-14T15:12:00.006+13:00

goodbye 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;like

An Overcoming.

2008-12-14T15:12:00.004+13:00

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

Love Intrinsic

2008-12-14T15:11:00.002+13:00

Time 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

Auckland City Elevator

2008-12-14T15:10:00.003+13:00

Auckland 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 don

When the Room's Full of Zebras

2008-12-14T15:05:00.002+13:00

Sometimes 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 path

Dawn on my Doorstep

2008-12-14T15:04:00.002+13:00

A 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

all flesh is grass

2008-12-14T15:02:00.006+13:00

The 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 westie

cleansing

2008-12-14T15:02:00.003+13:00

cleansingWe 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

Dont let the impossible prevent the achievable

2008-12-14T15:01:00.004+13:00

(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 westie

The Old Photograph

2008-12-14T15:00:00.001+13:00

A 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

Chimera's Synonyms

2008-12-14T13:53:00.001+13:00

The 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 ether

Morning Kick Start

2008-12-14T13:52:00.000+13:00

The 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

The dancer

2008-12-14T13:48:00.002+13:00

when 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

Blog reactivated as editing place

2008-12-14T13:47:00.000+13:00

Aucklandpoetry.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.

Want to post your poems?

2008-02-14T19:19:00.002+13:00

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 to

Back on the blogs

2008-01-22T00:05:00.000+13:00

AucklandPoetry.com is back again. Anyone who wants to post on this site may also do so, though the main site is visited more often.

Getting the best of our online publishing

2007-10-08T09:33:00.000+13:00

This 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

wrong shoe

2007-10-08T09:20:00.000+13:00

Adopting 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 the

Standing Still

2007-10-05T11:42:00.000+13:00

Not 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 eyes

Bernie Kyle

2007-10-02T10:55:00.000+13:00

The 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

New Zealand

2007-09-18T13:22:00.000+12:00

New 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

New Site

2007-08-13T22:09:00.000+12:00

The new site is being switched to, and this site will continue as before under aucklandpoetry.blogspot.comThere is no need for users to change anything - just keep on posting poetry on this blog and it may one day appear on the main site.Bernie has suggested we should edit the content - so I have installed a content management system and this will now be phasing in - and new content will be

The Literatti

2007-08-13T21:53:00.000+12:00

The Literatti @ The Wine Cellar 14th September, 8 pm.Get a full hit of the show that had the Whangarei Midwinter Arts Festival raving. The Literatti presents a poetry minestrone of spoken word, music and theatre. Audiences will experience multiple poetic voices combined in this new evolution of poetry set to a back beat. Limited capacity. Tickets $10 on the door or $5 pre-sale.Contact

Auckland Poetry

2007-08-09T15:29:00.000+12:00

We are creating a new version of AucklandPoetry.com.We always intended AucklandPoetry.com to be a live poetry site featuring films of poets reciting and recordings of poetry that sit alongside the written word.Over the past two years we have invited poets to publish their own work and send contributions for this site. Some have done amazing things (check the Poetry Blog sites or use the search

Live Video

2007-08-01T15:39:00.000+12:00

On the new main site we are featuring video. We will use the Live Video account for uploading these because we want poets to realise that to get page views they will have to use their myspace/bebo/digg/delicio.us or other networking pages and to be very clear here are the terms and conditions. The new front page part of the site does not replace the blog site - you are still invited to

Poetry Live at the Classic - Tuesday 31 July 2007

2007-07-31T23:34:00.000+12:00

It's been a while since I managed to drag me feet along to listen and if it felt right, read out one or two pieces at Poetry Live - the event which this site advertised for years - but which I guess some had taken a break and others had moved into that space. And how they have. Not only have they moved the gig from the odd box at Grand Central to a wonderful room with tiny little tables and lots

Montana Poetry Day 2007

2007-07-26T20:35:00.000+12:00

July 27: Montana Poetry Day 2007 will mark the fourth birthday of The Divine Muses Poetry Reading, an annual event which this year features nine New Zealand muses: Iain Sharp, Harry Ricketts, Mark Pirie, Riemke Ensing, Andrew Fagan, Serie Barford, Olivia Macassey, Siobhan Harvey, Kirsten Warner. Each speaker has 10 minutes to showcase their poetry. There will be books for sale, as well as snacks,

Beattie's Book Blog

2007-07-23T13:56:00.000+12:00

Beattie's BlogInfo on Book Awards NZ Listener

Bernie Kyle

2007-07-22T11:01:00.000+12:00

RETRIBUTION.BYBernard V. Kyle [C 2007] After the fray, there cometh the dayTo silence all Oz, & the mockers,For the ABs & Ferns, have both taken turns,And triumphed all over the 'Ockers.' Now coming up, there looms a World Cup,When poor play, just wont have the clout,For no prize, is awarded for second,And that's, what it's now, all about. So gird up the loins, protect, chest & groins,And

Jan Oskar Hansen

2007-07-22T10:01:00.000+12:00

Yesteryear’s Summer Rusty, padlocked gate, trees in the big garden needtrimming, on a swing, two rusty chains, it lacksa seat. Autumn and there are apples unpicked onthe ground, fine rain has fallen, drops drips fromtrees and glint on tall grass. Soon winter stormswill come rattle the gate and the derelict house- unlit- will have to shoulder nature’s irate violence.If you close your eyes and

Jason J Page

2007-07-21T16:41:00.000+12:00

Is Nothing SacredThree years and no phone calllet alone a knock on my doorI am lonely stillright down to the floorFor me it doesnt existthats why I didnt answer a brewers callfor me it means nothing at allA sleeper I remainworking for sombreI believe not anymoreshe changes her viewmy history no more

Nicholas Alexander

2007-07-18T13:20:00.000+12:00

History Walkthe walk through the hallows saw storms broughtinto gardens that tore limbs from living woodancients as large as buildings now lay on fencescordoned off with tape to keep the public safefrom its own curiousitywhen the mess was cleared what was missing now relied upon memory except for the treethat was cleaved clean in two. Its left side was torn asunder by the terrible winds its

Gmail - Poetry submission

2007-07-11T18:35:00.000+12:00

THE STORM. By Bernard V. Kyle. [C] 2006It's a threatening, grey, winter's day,There's that leaking, window pane,The gale is screaming,on its way,And flinging, sheets of rain, The trees bend forth, and back & forth,The leaves, fly out of sight,There's not one bird, seen, or heard,Contesting, Nature's might. The deluge seems, to never end, The threat of flood, abounds,