Auckland Poetry.com

Slow time may quickly pass into waiting arms

But sometimes what has been left stays fresh

And we come to find it has been meted no harm

Which I had expected I must confess.

There is change in each of us; we’re different, less free

Which happens and isn’t to be good or bad

Thankfully we still speak the same tongue eternally

We cherish our past and still we add

To the legend of us unravelling over time.

While we disappear to parts we also last

We both know that neither us, nor life, is sublime

But why remember mistakes when slow time moves fast?

Unravel tongue thankfully

“Life sublime happens eternally” but

Make mistakes in the same speech.

Time’s waiting arms meted harm. No!

Legend mistakes slow time for what is preserved-

There IS cherished change.

And more- a confession; we both know.

We both know what stays quickly fresh

Good or bad expectation; less free life

Still some slowly sublime change

And now we are suddenly told by children we are old

And referred to as ‘that man’ or ‘that woman’

By people we don’t know.

As a retort I have decided to age gracelessly

With humour, and exaggerate my deafness

Laughing when people who don’t know me shout at me

So I can reply “easy, I’m not that deaf”.

Those who do know me will roll their eyes and

Expect me to remember something I really didn’t hear.

But I am still pink and squishy on the inside.

In short- pretty much the same, maybe a bit dirty from the poisons

Our society enjoys. And I feel the same as I always have.

What is it to feel older? At most I realise I can handle

The shit things that happen in life

Which I might not have thought I could deal with.

But for all that one gets educated by life

Some people have more living to do in the same period of time.

Age is experience.

And I feel the same as I always have.

Our society expects me to remember something

I realise I can handle. But I am still on the inside.

Pretty much the same, maybe from the poisons

a bit gracelessly I exaggerate dirty humour

Educated by life I might not have thought

I really didn’t hear ‘that man’ or ‘that woman’ but

I’m that deaf.

As a retort I have decided to age

And now we are suddenly told by children we are old

my deafness laughing and What is it to feel older?

to experience Age is At most The shit things that happen in life

So I can reply “easy,”

when people who don’t know me shout at me

Those who do know me will roll their eyes and

I have been referred to as pink and squishy

By people we don’t know.

Which I could deal with but for all that time one gets.

And In Some people living With short of enjoys

do in the period more same.

And and Our old older legend living less: I as I. But But I am all woman and children and always man

why when We reply We quickly find Some Educated eyes

who know (dirty unravelling know gracelessly poisons people I Thankfully don’t know).

be good or experience much bad society

may I not hear or remember Those There things. time period to time harm

To to the the I have the tongue. is it been? it happens

I have had humour. I exaggerate life So realise

deafness mistakes neither the now nor the eternally squishy.

shout is As shit is easy sometimes; will we know,? no us decided different.

my meted sublime maybe and (add) And And mistakes

who we’re with when we laughing life Which I gets one of.

and still The same time And still the same us

that time the same Pretty people Which are we

Which enjoys expected life and feel
’ at a are are short Slow Age age arms a At been by  But be By both bit but but I have handle has have I on., I do deal deaf didn’t do don’t by I ‘must most moves me me more me made might me ‘I’m. happen have in “,”.into In. in. is feel fresh fast free from for to I. in each;, of our of over. us same as is inside slow isn’t still speak stays some something suddenly remember really retort roll referred pass pink past passed preserved people to that that that thought  told to that their to to that to There can can cherish change come confess could expects? we we What With waiting what we

Livorno Mon Amour

Livorno this dreary harbour port, not Rome and now in

winter a ghost town, every window shuttered telling not

of life inside. Into the bar came a young woman, long legs

like a colt, she was frozen warmed her hand and fanny by

the fire. I thought she looked like the American I had once

seen the shadow of in Trieste, I offered her a drink, she

had a coke, then she left to resume her lonely profession.

Later that night I saw her by a corner and as cold rain hung

In the air; I took her to an hotel, got heating going, she

jumped into bed ready to do her duty, but I was pensive

waiting to write a poem about Trieste. 

When I awoke tired morning light seeped through holed

curtains, the girl had put a blanket around me in the night

I was grateful for that. We breakfasted; she had fried eggs

and ham, I drank coffee and a little brandy. Saw her dance

down the street, yes she looked like an eager colt. Hoped

she would meet a rich man, marry him and become his

respectable whore instead of ending up an old diseased 

slag begging drinks from men who are ready to debase her.

Two days later I took the train to Trieste, I asked around

but no one had seen the American girl and the poem was

never written. 

The Sea

Silent sea dark and deep, on your surface I skimmed
for years, feared you too sleepless nights, mountainous
waves when my only defence was luck; romantically
thought that you had secrets to divulge when hearing
whispers in the tropical night. Now I know it isn’t so
and that makes life sadder than it ought to be, endlessly
wet you are Saragossa weed, fog and terrifying sharks;
like everything else, you suffer from advanced pollution
but when I hear the melancholic fog horn sing, late in
the night, I wish I were skimming your surface again.