Bernard Kyle

TEENS
by
Bernard V. Kyle
[C] 2005


Its not too late, just rising eight,
And tonight's the night it's on,
The end of year and party up,
The night of the Senior Prom.

They've got together 'fore the ball
All dressed up in their best,
There's finger food, a joyous mood,
And a drink or two, you guessed.

The music drums, a guitar strums,
There's sneaky Alcopop,
The voices rise above the din
And the deafening Bebop.

A good time's being had by all,
As the time arrives to go,
To the much awaited old school ball,
For young lasses and their beaux.

So its down the path and into cars,
With engines revved to roar,
There's no seat belts worn that's for sure,
When the pedals hits the floor.

The young bucks strive to beat their mates,
To hit the front at pace,
And though it wasn't scripted,
They're in The Great Car Race.

There's fearful screams and joyous shrieks,
From scared and whooped up kids,
For a chance to halt it, looking back,
We'd now pay quids and quids .

But the speed that thrills is the speed that kills,
And a car can't take the bend,
Six young folk have come to grief,
Young lives have reached their end.....


EPITAPH


The VIGIL.


They stand each day by the Motorway,
They make no strident cry,
They remain a fleeting vision,
To those who speed on by.

They watch in mute observance,
And wave no hand on high,
Yet their misery is plain to see,
By all who've yet to die,

For the message clear, for all to hear,
In this Life of Gains & Losses,
Is one & all, please hark the call,
From these small, White Wooden Crosses.

******************

Gemma Millar

Hidden Scars

This is life,
You have to play this game,
You don’t have a choice anyway,
Your life, your part - has no mercy,
It doesn’t matter who you are, or what you do,
Life will find you.
Do your best, act your nicest, be at your brightest.
Go home everyday, and pray to the lord that it’s enough.
Hide the pain, no one really wants to know about it, or really know you.
Hold it all inside, put a smile back on that face.
Take off those rose coloured glasses, and stare it all in the face.
Play the game that is life, play along with your friends.
Pretend until it feels real.
Perhaps the pain shall subside if it is ignored.
Perhaps you will be the ignored if you don’t keep the pain appropriately hidden.
Do not break the barrier.
Others will tell you the pain is comfortable, as long as nothing has to change.
Especially themselves.

Choose your path; be a silent warrior, or the hero that stood against the rest.


Gemma Millar © 27.07.2006

Bernard V Kyle

CALLING ''TIME OUT''

by

Bernard V Kyle
[c] 2006


Things are reflective and hence the invective,
With the bad mouthing & plenty of smut,
The great innuendo needs diminuendo,
In response to the peoples ''TUTT TUTT !!'

For the Country is in need of attention,
And we don't need any one finger wave,
But the whole of the mob should get on with the job,
And the Beehive should learn to Behave.

Nicholas Alexander

On Line

The bits are flying into the furnace
The bright sparks float in the air
And briefly incandescent
Before they depart the desk top world
and hide on the hard disk until December

The phone line is free
The computer is being fed without it
and the lines on his face are becoming
less pronounced
each minute a megabyte
flys past

The world that was once out there
is now in here. Safe and registered.
Locked behind walls of flame.

Nicholas Alexander

Heritage Buildings

Solid foot stamped hard into rock
walls will not fall as braced by bolts
tightened by twisted steel rope
jack hammer fenced in force
bricks placed with surgical precision
masonry honed stone permanance
four columns is all
the ancient bankers saved
the facade of the old house
stood able to be built upon
history may be important
but these cardboard offices can be easily replaced with
modernity, glass walls that accountants can fall through
reflections that, when you walk past, move with you
and make the transparent towers appear to lurch
upward

EVENTS

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Dr Charles Frederickson

Casino

No clocks shades of addiction
Drawn day indistinguishable from night
Rotating mirrored ball twinkling stars
Crystal sconce fixtures teardrop prisms

The setting sun flipped like
Tossed coin suspended in midair
Calling heads landing tails clinked
Into Lady Luck slut machine

Winsome charmer on the prowl
Fixated on evening score for
Last time’s losses re-vowing commitment
To never again in vain

Spinning roulette wheel beyond control
Snake eyes crapshoot no dice
Ace of hearts in hole
One-eyed jack about-face drawing card

Deep pockets turned inside out
Embossed last chance silk linings
Bloodshot eyes saggy hangover lids
Yawning one for the road

Time to call it quits
Pick up chips can’t afford
To still have plastic justifications
Credit limit not yet spent

Bernard Vance Kyle

Infamy Revisited

By
Bernard Vance Kyle
Copyright, 2002

Some tales will Thrill & some will chill,
With Schemes of Daring Do,
And some can Sicken to the Heart,
The likes of me and you.

And Fiction palls in Earthly Halls,
When Truth with Courage stands,
And Heroes rise with smoke dimmed Eyes,
To help with eager Hands.

For Infamy did rise again,
When Planes with massive Powers,
Pierced the Sky to let all Die,
And Collapse the Great Twin Towers.

So Forget ye not, this Heinous Plot,
Come Raise a prayer to Heaven,
For History will mark that Day,
That Day of Nine eleven...

Dr. Charles Frederickson

MUD SLIDE

Whole villages slither by downhearted
Desperate needy souls without recourse
Abandoned huts cling to hillsides
Knee deep red clay slicks

Stray dogs buried under rubble
Cherished family heirlooms grime infested
Pet songbird trapped behind bars
Gold cage exposing blackened ribs

Picking up bits and pieces
Of beloved lives devastatingly lost
Decomposed bodies clear tarpaulin mummies
Unceremoniously dumped in mass graves

Rancid stench permeating burial mounds
Grief-stricken anxiously trying to cope
Calloused hands digging through debris
Tragic avalanche reeking sorrowful guilt

Flooding heavy rains preceded disaster
Sheer bluff came crashing down
Shaky grip gritty cliff hangers-on
Struggling to rebuild eroded future

Kim Randell

MAUNGAKEIKEI

A singing axe made naked Maungakeikei,
Some settler men a sacred Totara killed.
The grief of Tane Mahuta was vented,
And Rongo wept upon that naked hill.

Those Pakeha then realized their error
Of desecrating Maungakeikei's crown.
To ease the grief of Tangata Whenua,
A pine from Monterey was bedded down.

It grew to massive size, that sacred pine tree,
And shaded Maungakeikei from the sun.
Tane Mahuta had smiled upon it
And made sure that his curse was well undone.

Then came a man of very twisted vision,
Who saw himself a warrior of the past.
Imagined all the warpaint and the feathers,
Attacked poor Maungakeikei in the dark.

The shadow of his moku echoes visions
Of imaginary battles with his foes.
Their juices stain his chin in feasts of conquest,
It's how, in his skewed mind, his mana grows.

He grunts and wields his mere with conviction.
It roars and spins its hungry metal teeth.
Chewing through the whiteness of the tree-flesh,
Carpeting the ground like snow beneath.

That pine tree through its stature had grown tapu.
A child of Tane Mahuta indeed!
The twisted one could not cut through at that time,
But struck a mortal blow that would succeed.

Six years it took before that pine tree's passing,
A time to stand in awe and say farewell.
Tane Mahuta's new child will grow there,
And once again we'll see our One Tree Hill.

© Kim Randell 2005

Nicholas Alexander

Danger Signs

That droning sound can only be one thing
It is time to go down and be amoung
our family

Discuss the tedium of hours
away from the privacy of our rooms

What we call individuality
Sacrificed lest yet for our safety
Mutual respect for our spaces
Ahead of the dignity of graces

we call on the memory
of our heroes instead
as our neighbors die
explosions above their
heads and stones

buildings can be rebuilt
innocence
cannot.

5:10 Aug 19th

Bernie Kyle

THE SPORTING LIFE.
By
Bernard V Kyle
[C] 2005


Now Rugby will never Bug me,
While the Ticket for Some, is the Cricket,
If you're Seven Feet Tall, there's Basketball,
And Soccer, if you Just want to Kick it !

That Tennis is Surely a Menace,
For those who Remain Overweight,
And a Fast Game of Squash, Oh Golly Gosh,
Needs Coronaries that can Dilate !

Cards are attractive, if you are Inactive,
And Darts, will minimize Strain,
Weight lifting of course, Needs the strength of a Horse,
And Chess needs a Brain - in the Main..

There's many a Sporting Attraction,
And Games with no Effort, I'm Told,
But surely your Health and Maybe your Wealth,
Will improve, if you'll just get Involved !

Now Gambling on Sport is a Problem,
It's even less Certain than Shares,
One day you'll be making a Fortune,
While next, you'll be selling your Wares..

This Watching the Sport on the Telly,
With a "Tinny" or two in the Hand,
Will Bring you No Bruising and maybe some Snoozing,
So Appeals to an Increasing Band.

But don't be a damned Couch Potato,
Get out and Give it a Go,
You don't have to be a John Walker,
Or even a Florence Flo Jo !!

There's good Reason for being a Player,
And Getting involved in some Sport,
The Effort involved, you need to be Told,
Could Delay the Day of "La Mort. "

Now you may be as old as a Grandpa,
Yet Sport, can be One of your Goals,
You can Ruin the Walk, by Playing some Golf,
Or get on with Playing some Bowls,

But Whatever your Age it's Important,
To Function as Well as you Can,
So give it a Go and ere long you Know,
You'll be more than an old Also Ran..

Yet Athletes need to Remember,
And it's True, for All who will See,
One day you'll rank as the 'Top Dog,'
While Next, The Fire Hydrant You'll be !!

********

Gemma Millar

Among the apples


Among the apples sat a fresh young leaf,
Through the branches,
To the ocean she could see,
The fruit pickers came,
Time and again,
Over the years, stealing her friends.
The young leaf wallowed, as she began to age,
And spent all her time thinking about that day…
That day, when she nearly left home,
The day she decided it was time to go,
The ocean was calling,
Begging her to come and play,
She had been too scared, and decided to stay.
Now all her friends had gone,
And on her own she stayed.
The ocean didn’t call anymore,
And the pickers didn’t come,
The apples were not plentiful,
As to the years, the tree had succumbed.
So the leaf sat each day on her branch,
Wishing she had left, when she had the chance.
Knowing her thoughts would get her nowhere,
She broke her own twig, and fell through the air.
She assumed she was to fall to her death,
When suddenly she realised, she hadn’t hit the ground yet.
With slight hesitation, she looked around,
The ground beneath, was far to be found.
She let her veins relax, as the wind held her tight,
She felt safe and secure, and let go of her fright.
The salty breeze, engulfed her at once,
She enjoyed this feeling, as in the wind she spun.
Her friend the wind carried her to the ocean, where she had never gone.
When she asked is this the end?
He replied, no, you’ve only just begun.

Late 2005.

The news between lands

Did you know the entire South Island was quaranteened for didymo?

I had to carefully consider if I had any to declare, but nobody seemed to be listening anyway and I did not like it on my salad. Seaweed is infinitely better, and you do not really have to declare it as you tend to get it on the way, not from another land, per se, but from the misty aft, the places in between where it is neither day nor night, living or dying, black or light.