Bernard V Kyle

POETIC PLEASURE.
By
Bernard V Kyle
[c] 2006

A verse may enthrall few people at all,
And receive, it would seem, the cold shoulder,
Yet that very verse, may achieve the reverse,
And enchant, some other beholder.

Now a haiku or two, may satisfy you,
While some, may yearn for the Quatrain,
A search for Lanturne, may then make one yearn,
To explore the lure of the Cinquain.

But with many a verse, in many a form,
There's a world of poetic pleasure,
To let one recite, all sweetness & light
The joy of some poetic treasure.

Letter from the Editor

Article

The Editor is calling for more poets from more diverse cultures posting their sounds to this site.

Newly Featured sections

Poetry Chambers including

Classical Poetry - check out Kim Randell's popular blog
Modernism - Chaos & Matter - try anything once
Post Modernism - Richard Taylor - sublime mastery

Article Links Preserved

At the end of any page, you can now navigate the articles we accept for publication. As this is a poetry site, articles are short lived on the site font page (one or two days maximum) but are listed following the poetry (for quite some time).

Archives!

By popular demand - the back catalogue is now open - for a limited time you can read poetry posted to this site over the past few years - or search for a whole load of poems by any one of our writers (or by subject matter for that matter).

Want to see more of this on this site ?

1. Bukowski - Armchair speak - WARNING - content may offend



2. Performance VIDEO - Tom Waits



3. Poetry Blog of the week

Read: Jack Ross's beautiful blog -

4. News

Shane Koyczan

Please comment on what you want to contribute / see more often on this site...

Introducing . . . S.Natarajan

So Powerful

My veins run like meanders
Arteries blossom up!
Crest fallen chief of
Circulatory system boomerangs
Nerve fibers clutch on their nuclei to show their fists
Muscle fibers arrange for a get
Together for a cup of blood
Pancreas and liver speed up
Their secretion for their part in the digestive system
Bones stiffened in joy
Enjoying with spinal chord
Skin abunds its
Production, sweat
Brain wraps red tape
To its worries
What these systems try to do
Oh! Each one wants to
Celebrate the occasion
The occasion of
Smile--Her smile



Copyright © 2007 S.NATARAJAN

Nicholas Alexander

Chocolate Coat

Long and hard he looks at the drain of cakes from the mould
the seeping dripping coat that annoints it so
the leaves and trees that form avenues for the soul
trips you at the door and beneath this
sense
there lies nothing more
than lost dreams
than lost pieces of dreams

awaken the voice
explore the possibilities of
structure lost at sea

pounding upon you like a heart
or a sorry scribe at breakfast
a dawn of silver possibility

unrestrained by sound

Modernism vs Classicism

Article

This is a response to Kim Randell's article

What Kim Randell is calling "Classical Poetry" is an art form.

So is painting. And so is abstract painting. Art is a moving target. It is not possible to proscribe to others how they may create. For me, "rhyme" has it's place and it is not always at the end of lines. I do not have time to construct a sonnet or do crosswords. I listen to music and write when the urge takes me. Obviously I would have not done well in Shakespeare's day - in fact I suspect it would be a burning at the stake for being this illogical. Art is a moving target. The world changes every day. And so does AucklandPoetry.com.

The new agenda is to post more good poetry. Contributors are free to post comments. Guests can post comments but they are moderated.

There are no limits or restrictions on style. We want people to contribute, to express their voices and make themselves heard. We have been asking for new contributors and have welcomed two new voices. Now we want to hear from more.

More comments! If you do not like a poem, do not complain to me, write a constructive criticism and post it as a comment.

Don't get personal! Your comments should never be insulting or you are really not getting the point. If you break this rule, your comments will not be posted.

Editors Note

Article

The recent articles posted on AucklandPoetry.com were appreciated, but contributors are reminded that they are most welcome to post poems on this site. If you want to publish an article on AucklandPoetry.com it must be submitted to the editor first. We try and keep articles few and poems many.

The aim of the website is to collect the works of Auckland Poets and allow them to independently publish a body of work into a communal blog site that will list their work on major search engines.

If you have a video camera reading a poem to camera and posting it on youtube makes it easy to post it and feature it on this site and it is a most welcome medium. Just a microphone? Poetry is all about your voice. Let's hear it. Link your myspace page here. Poets with a "Chair" (the right to post, there are very few of you currently) can feature their myspace page on this site.

The blogosphere includes a site search bar, and try entering the names of any of our poets and see what happens. You can be included in our collection, we will still be building it in ten years! And your work will still be locatable on the web.

To become part of this site, just send me three poems, or one particularly good one and suggest you be considered for a tenure, a "Chair". There are limited places.

If you knock my socks off, and it gets onto the site - and when you have published several in this way, you may get an invite to post yourself. This means you are responsible for posting to the site yourself. Now it is up to you.

Those who want to read classical poetry should publish it on paper. The net is good for something else, and this site intends to produce it with you.

Jason J Page

A Protester is Born (every minute)

There is no fun being diagnosed as ill,
She is not set in some stalker’s fairytale ideology.

It’s what she represents that counts!
Like the cut of her dress,
The style of her boot,
Right down to the heel,
Like a funnel pipe
Something to presume!

I love her for what she sows
Let it be so

Her a Majestic Quartz
Material divorced
My enigma a cavort
Honey I must look like a dork

Talk rocker

Talk rocker - Entertainment news, gossip & music, movie & book reviews on Stuff.co.nz

Article on how to be a successful poet.

Jason J Page

All Women Are Beautiful

There is no such thing as an ugly woman
Beautiful curvaceous of all types and sizes
Their walk and talk
Holds me to ransom

I yearn for one to hold my hand
Hunger cringes due to starvation
On goes life and still no salvation

Like the handshake
Between one life time and another
Our seed to pass on
I think its time for Game on

I will deliver under the spotlight
It should be good on the night
For your love it will be a sight
Finally I will make things right

To M

Your words rest like
Feathers on a page
And I, a willing Gretel
Cradle each one
Fragile in my open palm.
I find you again

I met you first
In the desert sands
Where sun and dust
Pleased our skin
And the world disappeared
Behind a purplish haze.

I met you
Then in the mist
where we breathed in
nature's wash of life
Visitors to Eden
Close and warm
Beneath the limbs
Of forest oracles


I heard your voice
Whisper poems in the night
Your lips moved hot and close
As I tossed to find your hand
two restless souls dancing out
Some kind of synchronicity
Now powerless to cupid's will

And then as if surprised
Beyond these pages
Your heart was familiar still
As real as the tear upon my cheek
Your eyes as deep as the
Words I'd held with hope
And who can tell
How close these souls will keep?
©Julie Walker 2007

Broken Birds In A Shoebox

Scars sewn within a hairs breathe
Of our hearts
And some days you bleed
And some days I bleed
And we kill each other
just a little
With words
And with our past.

Why not scoop our hearts off the floor
Cup them in our palms
Speak to them softly
Warm between cotton wool buds
Feed them with droppers
With mouths wide for life
And a will to fly.

©Julie Walker 2006

Darryn John Murphy

New Zealand

As we unite as one nation beneath the southern skies
We will look to the horizon and hold our heads with pride
For the essence of our country
Is present in our cities, towns, and homes
And we will carry it with pride wherever we may roam

For we are a land of many people
But united we are one. We will triumph over adversity
For we are proud of heritage. For we know where we have been
As a nation have endured the greatest hardships
And yet the essence of our nation
Has always been present in our lives

For there is beauty in abundance
From our snow covered mountain ranges
To the wide open plains and our shores
The spirit of our country
Will be present in every brook and every stream

For the spirit that is our country
Will always be present in the hearts
Of every one of us who. Call New Zealand home
And as we look to the future where our hopes and dreams reside
The pride of this great nation will always be present by our sides
Darryn John Murphy

Angela Smith

Lunar Pariah

Waves rushing and rolling,
Crashing and thundering,
Giants of the oceans,
Leaving us wondering

Where do they come from?
Where do they go?
Were they always this magical?
What happens below

The ocean’s surface,
Their mystical haven,
Home of the waves,
Of the sea raven.

Strange creatures dwell
In the blue abyss,
Unexplored, unexploited,
Marked with the ocean’s dark kiss.

Far above them,
The ocean’s furies ferment,
Lashes of lunar water,
Victims of aquatic slaughter lament.

These waves so enticing,
Rushing and gushing,
So magically charming,
Yet cold and forever crushing.

                                       HOARFROST

                                       White chalk wiping slate clean
                               Blackboard erased stardust glitter windswept
                       Flu season powder puff sniffles
               Runny pug noses snotty hanky-panky

                               Clouds clinging to each other
                       Uptight hugs squeeze box folds
               Polka dot accordion pleat bellows
       Paper aircraft landing strip plowed

                       Crystals sticking to outspread wings
               Seedpod flakes seeking absolute perfection
       Invisible circles undercover angel traces
Sparkly haloes disconnected nimbus radiance

One-way river of no return
       Lids pried open eyeballs drowned
               Hooked on transparent fish line
                       Shame dangling vertically resolved horizontally

       Grown cold transmigratory souls adrift
               Icicle splinters dripping lonely angst
                       Bladed feet walking on water
                               Making endless figure 8 grooves

               Wind-chill numbness exposing naked truths
                       Snowfall uplifting jacketed childhood spirit
                               Soaped sled rudders whizzing downhill
                                       Frosted cakewalk slippery eel pratfalls

                       Wild beast separated from herd
                               Trampled grassroots leaving no hoofprints
                                       Entrapped Minotaur inescapable snowbound maze
                                               Rebutting wayward hedged in tameness

                               Dr. Charles Frederickson