The creature shakes festering water
all over the art house
Carved equine harmony ruins
now
fit for the knackers yard
Skin too smooth
no flex or muscle movement
The jewels were all gone
its eyes removed
Cool handed double breasted veneer
raking coals over breaking ice
I’m fully devoured by hate,
My mind has been brought to stagnation,
It’s my unconceivable fate
To get slightly less estimation
Than sluts in a changeable guise
Or fools wasting time on careers.
Well, who is the one to despise:
A poet or one of those peers?
They fear the joys of today,
They fear the freedom addiction,
And I have no words left to say
When called a damn tough contradiction.
Love is a Story
It seems incredible now but once I was in love,
inflamed blood rushed thru my veins threatened
to drown my heart in sweet delusions, but we
both agreed, at the time, that never in the history
of man had anyone loved as us.
Summer nights are not for sleeping tired I was
when October came with cold, sober precipitation
and a north westerly that reduced the rapid river
of ardour to a mere trickle of lust and my words of
love rang hammy and theatrical.
Tears, a tub full I’m quite certain had I had sense
to bath in them I would have been assured eternal
youth. I kicked myself, fled. A fine November dawn
I saw Recife; fell in love again, but this time, alas,
with an irony damaged heart.
AucklandPoetry publishes NZ poets and links them into its twitter stream @AucklandPoetry
Summer in Lisbon
In the gentle Lisboetic night the old Heavenly Basilica
shimmered above ground, a white mirage of satin.
Across the road, in the garden of a thousand stars,
park benches, under ancient trees, smoked cigarettes
that glowed as fireflies when lovers embraced.
Sweet scented murmur kissed the moon.
The Quickening
Upstairs, the tide slapping sound of laughter and music
became a din, small cubicles, pink light and creaking bedsprings
and it reeked of beer belching men and perfumed women.
Angry gull like shrieks from cubicle five a customer had fallen
asleep occupying much needed space. Two bouncers came and
carried the sleeping one down to his friends in the bar.
Lost and silent after bought love they drank more, the music grew
lauder as did laughter; their eyes betrayed them though, quiet
longing in a pool of stillness, their romantic male illusion had not
yet hardened behind a shield of cynicism.
What you doing Daddy?
Always wanting to know everything that goes on,
it doesn’t matter what your doing he’ll soon be along,
my little man, there’s no escaping him.
As I explain to him, I see the fascination in his eyes
he gets a little excited, then his cheesy smile,
Pondering over what I’ve said he comes up and tugs my arm
What you doing Daddy? I have to explain again.
But why Daddy?
He asks inquisitively; frown upon his face, squinted eyes,
trying to comprehend, what I’ve just said,
that’s left him dumbfounded, curious to know why.
I have to explain everything in detail
he’s hungry for knowledge, everything needs to be in its place,
he has to understand everything, to put his mind a rest.
But why Daddy? He repeats again.
Oh aye Daddy!
He shakes his head in agreement,
like he understands why, but his face tells you he doesn’t.
still a puzzled look in his face.
As it battles to sink in, this new information he’s received,
Processing it slowly, you can still see him thinking,
then a smile across his face, his reasoning’s done.
Oh aye Daddy! He nods in agreement.
NEW:poems accepted for publication on AucklandPoetry are now tweeted on our new aucklandpoetry twitter stream.
Follow us on Twitter
What’s that animal doing in a suit?
Isn’t he about to loot –
The bank
Or get into a tank
To blow a hole in your soul?
On his nose
His spectacles sit
For the illusion of –
The respectable bit
His eyes will look open,
Sincere and clean
But when you’re not looking
They have a mean, green gleam
The suited animal
Is never quite thereance
It’s just an appearance
For those that give careance
And for their suitability…
Most fur’s been removed
The chatter’s been smoothed
The teeth chiselled down
To a white, insincere crown
Of smileciticy
There’s a lot of animals
Skulking, no doubt
There’s thems in their clothes
And thems – without!
“No more lies” suited-animals
Take off your disguise
So we can see….
What you’re really about?
Janet Feast
Copyright © 2009 by Janet Feast
A child stands alone
Amidst the remains of his family
The streets littered with bodies of his brothers
A down right human tragedy
A woman mourns the death of her son
The death of her husband and brother
In a war that makes no sense
A war like no other
A solder buries his best mate
A random stone marks his grave
No big ceremony
No final farewell wave
A suicide bomber
Prays his last prayer
Standing solid in his belief
That it is for his God up there
A new-born baby cries
Pure innocence amidst a world of sin
A glimmer of hope
In this mess we all live in
A world destroyed by hate
We hide behind our beliefs
A world full of war
We cry out for some relief
Give us patience Lord
Patience for your return
Give us strength Lord
And help us Learn
The lesson of understanding
The lesson of love
The lesson of acceptance
Of those who are different to us
Ode to the Clinker-built kauri cutter. New Lynn Sea Scout Cutter 73 Manukau
A dedication to mariners lost at sea
SHADOWLESS SEA
Manukau loose your tethered painter:
just one more time for me
slap your polished belly
upon this belligerent sea.
Manukau let your bow plunge:
to gulp the cooling liquor
that slakes your wicked thirst
that swells your kauri lungs
Rise up brave Manukau:
to taste the dripping sticking spume
rise up
to fight and not to heed the wounds.
Be prepared our Manukau
For this is no ordinary sea
no mere scudding sky
mere bruised and swollen tide
your mainsail sets to ply.
Alas Oh Manukau
your sailing days have ended
your crew has tossed their oars
their service has been rendered
way enough; blades fore and aft
Rejoice our Manukau
For this is no ordinary accolade
no mere fleeting cosmic adulation
mere brief delightful charade
this is your tiker-tape parade.
Oh Manukau turn away now
and do not gaze with awe
upon this shadowless sea
whose waves are made of straw
in aquatic nativity
Behold our Manukau
For those unyielding tides
we are powerless to subdue
have stolen our barnacled fortress
their sticky frothy heads
leave a crooked smile on the beach
for everyone to view.
Geoffrey S D Cooke 07/10/2009
The blog owner requires users to be logged in to be able to vote for this post.
Alternatively, if you do not have an account yet you can create one here.
Powered by Vote It Up
