Auckland Poetry

After the Meeting (resentment)

At the AA meeting, my dog, I had taken her with me as support.
looked around and went over to a tall, elegant man with a wave
of white hair and refined air (I’ve none) and sat there looking up
to him adorningly. On the way home I told her to sit in the back,
this confused her as she usually curls up on the seat beside me.
There was an awkward silence; her ears were up, knew something
was wrong: “So you think I’m bald; let me tell you this; that man
is a doctor and kill people when he’s drunk and perform heart
surgery ” Not addressing the dog directly, but I said no more as
I sounded ridiculous. Back home I drank vodka, with cola light
and ice, the dog had to sleep in outside, on the terrace.

After the Meeting

At the AA meeting, my dog, I had taken her with me as support.
She looked around and went over to a tall elegant man with a wave
of white hair and refined air (I’ve none) and sat there looking up
to him adorningly. On the way home I told her to sit in the back,
this confused her as she usually curls up in the seat beside me.
There was an awkward silence; her ears were up, knew something
was wrong: “So you think I’m bald; let me tell you this; that man
is a doctor and kill people when he’s drunk and perform heart
surgery ” I said, not addressing the dog directly and said no more,
as I sounded ridiculous. Back home I drank vodka, with cola light
and ice, the dog had to sleep in outside, on the terrace.

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.

Epigram  Our democratic leaders tell us to fly less, something About carbon footprint in the sky; yet they are buildingBigger airport for the anticipated increase in air traffic;   I think they are ignoring their own sensible advice

Tanka

The storm had abated
Dark night, no electricity
Heard rattle outside
Reached for my teeth and torch
By the door fall leaves huddled

The Mind’s Landscape

Collector of dry roses, that’s what you are,
in the mirror of tricks, your smile is of derision.
Seeker of the barren land where black goats
eat thorny roses.

Laughed they did when slewed the soil refused
to drink their life… a pool of darkening ruby
on yellow straws and angry glares of troll’s
blue eye.

Dweller, go back into your cave, contorted
you’re in the mirror of life, rimfrost on green grass
you’re breath’s an angst ridden screams of fear
as life passes you by.

Existentialistic Epigram

On the kitchen table a yellow honey melon,
It struck me if I suddenly died, an elliptical
Fruit would be the last thing I saw; so I cut
It in half removed the pips and ate it.