Auckland Poetry.com

and so my destiny enlightens to me
padding thru the field of maze
catching glimpses of the blue and sparkle
small bubbles of air catch in my throat
panting giggles and laughter caress the air
for all the alls and who ever is who
greet into my golden rays
now I suspend
forecome to me brisk upon the heat
vibrato forward
into me
the golden gauntlet drink
pure laughter gleed from me
thank you

written 18 Febuary 1995©
by vanessa rare

Tonight the nightingale sings her song to those around,
I am a spec of dust forced to stare at her from below.
Her steps soft and cold as a corpse which has never loved,
And my embrace has been left violated by the rain which has pierced holes into my soul.
In the distance snakes, raccoons, squirrels and doves play with the moonlight.
They are all interested in her gentle song which echoes through the night.

Above her head stands a tree which she has fallen from,
This tree has stood tall in this very spot for billions of years for her to discover,
Life’s motions have shown she was destined to find her shelter in the arms of this formation.
It provides warmth, strength, freedom, happiness, and her ability to sing her once abandoned song.

Although she is chained to the quick sand of the wet ground,
She is free to spread her wings and sore through the night at an instant.
I can feel her for the first time sinking into my body,
First her feet followed by her beak,
She pulls out the only trace of life in my wet cold earth,
And soars away into the faded mist of June.

Presenting Jan Oskar Hansen reading his works on video. Jan Oskar has been posting his poetry on Auckland Poetry for years and now he has started his own YouTube poetry page.

Readings from Homecoming

Readings from Cracks in the Mirror

Losing One’s Friends

Poetry from Sea to Shore

and it was her summer

French Humour

Poetry reading In Paris (part two)

Now I had the chance at last to make my mark,
to stand on a stage and read my work, but
I forgot stage fright, this old paralyzing enemy.
Too many whiskies in the loo when it was my turn
my voice was loud and clear and for a moment
triumph surge through my body, alas, my legs
disagreed buckled and I fell flat on my face.
I managed to finish my poem, a gentle hand held
on to my elbow and a picture of the former
Russian president Yeltsin flashed through my mind
and I knew my train had left. There was applause
but I also heard snigger. With dignity pasted on my
face and unsteady legs I walked out of the hall and
into a bar where no one knew my name.

Enough
two dollars eighty
that’s enough
for a toilet roll and a small milk
is it?
enough for my four kids
the woman in red
says she got the unemployment down the furthest than any of the others when she was in
yet she got no one jobs
now,……how did she do that?
I tell you how
make the people wait
make the people hungry like America
Recession? Ha
Pre planned and executed to the minute
And all the foremothers and
I gotta whore my arse to my man
like some Remuera prostitute masquerading as a kept woman
though I only get milk and toilet paper not diamonds and champagne
though I know I’ve got something more
something the people can value one day
not this
not sitting, wondering whether its bread or milk we’re gonna have today
so,…..fuck the excuses
I ran out of milk

Vanessa 11/1/08

YESTERDAY HAS GONE

Stillness
Where once there was beating
Thudding in the throat
Quivering delivery
Top lip stiff
Buried by silence
Forgotton moments
Seen in solar system dreams
Unburped and tight
Shredded pasts sitting muddled and shocked
Bent futures no others need know
Looking to cast way out
The shore, a haven no more
Looking back to a false yesterday
All forgotten cause no one saw
A breath in the breeze
Dispersed, invisible
The last of his thoughts
A non priority
I remember us
All of the attention gifted to me
Beauty and love the beholder
That was yesterday
The memorie not quite gone
Time to save myself from extinction

VANESSA 4 Feb 2008

The Girl in the Frame (revised)

Innocent stranger,
Indeed, you bloom around gills and fall
beneath the radar under a sky dripping with
illusion

the woman rocks her child to sleep
and a scarf drifts over the rubble of her features
her torn up life the ruins she now lives in
walls crumble as pepper dust drying out

the wheels grind away
the teeth she was left with
she invites her friends
in public but the chairs were
burnt by the soldiers for firewood

the night she lost her roof
the planes fly overhead
louder than before
the rain on mother’s big bed
and the lines down the walls
where the water runs

she lives thus in the public mind
takes dogs out for walks
leads them out of the trap
and into the summer

the illusion kept her between
four lines guarding the
boundary of her thought
the gates of reason
closed until the return
of the florists and the bell ringer

Nicholas Alexander
Copyright © 2009

ONCE

Leland James

garden shears
upon a low stone wall
where white roses grew

a toppled pedestal
the basin lying near
mouthful of rank water

an angelic stone child
stands still by the gate
keeping the watch

Senryu

Perfect rose shivers
Fears being picked at dawn
And fade in a vase

Senryu

Perfect attraction
Breathless, ravenous sex
Delightful madness

Senryu

Perfect marriage
One is fondly remembered
The other wears black

Vanishing Islands

Classic sea, almost antique, slow swinging oars
rowing towards a balmy island with lazy palm trees.
Everything could have been so perfect, hadn’t been
for the rising sea and the diminishing shoreline.
There is a smoking mountain in the middle of
the island, soon fishermen will sit on cliffs and be
anglers, sing songs remembering times when their
island had a sandy beach; but for now oscillating oar
blade dips into liquid happiness, disturbing briefly
the azure sky that preens itself on an ocean it regards
as a mere mirror.