Auckland Poetry.com

Feet
Disseminated storms.
Nothing dismantled
Everything originated.
Lost blossoms,
Birds,trees,seasons.

Spindle body effused
Thunder and lightning.
Afreshed sky and earth.
Gulfs among mankind
Faded off.
World become a
Toy of kids.

Arms throbbed to hug
The dying earth.
Music effloresced
From the quivering.

Childhood devastated.
Youth wanted to mend.
But death, clowned.

Taught loneliness
In fame and furore.
REAL MUSIC TOO.

I

An emerald glare
Lit up the sky in the distance.

The line of sand
Alternately
Appeared and disappeared.

The drum beats
Different pitches.

The ocean was breathing,
Hiding a wrath.

II

I would gladly spit in the face of any professor.
Nothing has been bridled or subjected.
The natural elements have only changed their place.
The sea, the wind, and fire continue to rage inside people.

III

‘I don’t want to
Go out in the rain’

Said the girl in ‘English.’

The hair might
Fell out in today’s rain.

IV

Yellowish mist
Hangs over earth.

No desire to go out.

A ghastly silence
Sets in the dusk.

Frogs splash in the puddles
Letting out strange grunts.

But yet to see one.

V

The shadow of decay
Lies on everything.
Art supporting
The dying dream.
Cynicism shocks
The senile brains.

Nature leaves last chance.

We do not believe in Nature.

What is our chance?

VI

The landscape flying by
In the windows of the carriage.

Everything is fictional,
A deception.

In the end
Settle down quietly
In the desert.

An Elderly Dog

The sun is coming down hard the dog sleeps in the shadow
on the terrace. I sit indoors and try to play the mandolin.
Sweaty palms, no good. The dogs comes to the doorway
barks. I put the mandolin on a chair, dog goes back to sleep.
The winter had been long I had looked forward to summer,
but this was too much. We, the dog and I, used to go to
the beach, but dogs aren’t allowed there anymore and
I’m too fucking old. I pick up the mandolin smash it against
the living room wall, a picture of me in uniform falls down,
broken glass everywhere. “Now, see what you have done.”
I shout to the dog, but the old cur doesn’t batter an eyelid.

The lighter side of life

Inside the casing of a ship I spent years, later cocooned, in the gentle nature
of Algarve. It isn’t what I had wanted I should have been a famous movie star.
Limelight becomes me it goes with my ego, Interviewed and listened to when
I recalled how I met Marilyn Monroe and Brigitte Bardot. Suavely I would
deny having had affairs with any of them, a wink and a nudge will have told
the true story. Of course as time passed the younger generation would have
said: We know him, but who were MM and BB? They are not Ignorant, I have
outshone the lesser stars, for that one cannot blame my adoring fans.
It is a good I held back, I would have snuffed out other dreamers’ fantasy and
magazines would only had me and defunct royals to write about

Ahead ahead ahead
Got to get ahead
Get ahead of what?
Here?
Get ahead of what?
Each other?
For what?
To get to the end first?
Stocked in material security
Our unknowing panic
Why the fuck do we have to get ahead?
It’s much harder to live from nothing
In the now
Day to day
Like so many other creatures on this catseye marble
Those ones we keep pushing out
Of existence
So we can get ahead.

 Vanessa Rare October twenty ten

Some things men make are solid,
Heavenscrapers, built to last.
Some things nature makes are insubstantial
But when passed
Become future again, like that mix of soil, sunshine and rain
That sets into a flower
And that’s why last night, I smiled with delight
To see a rainbow trump the Sky Tower

Tanka

When we make love
I look up and see the ceiling
It needs painting
What do you see my dear?
Me, I look straight into hell.

Saying

A good poet
Borrows,
A great poet
Steals

What Happened to Laughter?

What I miss the most not being a child, is its exuberance.
The easy tears and laughter, to jump up in the air for no
reason at all other that it gave a dizzying sensation.
I loved to go to circus, laughed uproar sly at the clown
and admired the lion tamer with his whip.

These days a clown’s mask is an unfolding tragedy and
animals should be free to survive or die in the wild.
But I still hanker for the days of innocence which is so
utterly lacking in morality. Now I seek refuge behind
irony a place where to hide my tears and hilarity.

I’m here in the corner, devoured by cold,
My little ribbed shell hides a desperate sigh,
It holds an enigma for you to unfold
Until I’m asleep to your breath’s lullaby.

My soul is rushing beyond the extremes,
Revealing the vibe that is hard to appease,
But once you discover the door to my dreams,
My consciousness lives through a moment of peace.

Whenever my lips start exploring your skin,
They bleed unexplainable bitter remorse -
My poison leaves stains, and it feels from within,
But lips ever sealed do appear much worse.