Halo 3
did you hear me?
the inaugural Midnight sales
1 ton of cubic ice
melted by plastic guns of
delightful ecstasy
in the hands of the boys
in the hope that they reach
into the new toy
that will keep them awake
till another midnight and beyond
Halo 3
Copyright 25/9/07 Deana Platt (aka Emancipation Planz)
The Dark Dream
The sun rose above our heads
giving me moments to absorb its ointment
and notice your gentle breath coaxing teasing
and tugging the wandering flock of clouds now
distant as the tremble under your eyelid
settles me
to a peace
unknown in my war-torn dream-life
away from
home
- Nicholas Alexander
- 19 June 1992
(* for Haare Williams)
If it wasn’t for our elders where would we be
Confused little children with no history.
Just like the koru with its beauty and curl
You shared with us your story - the values in our world.
You started in a language - filled in colour from the sun
Your voice embracing warmth - your native mother tongue.
I think of multi-culture - but now I’ve checked my place
If mono and bi don’t join - it’s pointless thinking race.
A race cannot be run - the finish line be found
For I came in at the middle - new country, fresh ground.
But here before me injustices - that I had no part
Issues to be spoken - still unplayed and uncast.
So as far as multi-cultures in a land that is my home
I have found new meaning of how bi-culture is formed and sown.
One must link with two before adding three or four.
Copyright Deana Platt 2002
Did cha just feel bad
Seeing Pumkin’s abandonment – in the train station screamed
her father – Oh my!
Did cha … not feel curious and
itch for more… and it came –
Outside her home, the car boot silenced
Pumpkin’s mother – Oh my!
Did cha just have to laugh
when you heard it took two days
Now how did they report it? …
those Quaystone cops
Evidential flops
Credential drops
The PR spin – a fettered attempted
just rained, spilled on to the sideway
Didn’t cha…. just want them to admit
mistakes in the timing, in the process
Don’t cha… just want them to find
that culprit hiding somewhere in the States
Oh Pumpkin…
I ache and ask why?
COPYRIGHT Deana Platt 22/9/07 (aka Emancipation Planz)
Beer Makers
The old brewery, ochre and dead windows,
appeared as a benignly if neglected castle
in afternoon’s radiance.
Inside it reeked of a boozer early
in the morning; butts on floors and the echo
of drunken voices.
Sun raked, black letters on top of the building
proudly proclaimed: “Portugal’s best Beer.”
That was long ago before mass tourism,
EU, Carlsberg Lager and Newcastle Brown.
On the top floor, where offices used to be,
five starved cats sat and waited for yesterday,
they were the offspring of fat cats which,
had lived high on brewers and spilt ale.
Hopeless dreamers, licking matted fur,
lost in melancholy; hepatic eyes of yesterday.