Tag Archives: Poetry

  Margarita #7 (for Dinah and Bruce) To be a sailor, to sail away is not simply to love the sea. It is to plan, organise, repair, fix, create, repair again, improvise, contemporize, clean, stock, stow, pickup, put down, find, … Continue reading →

Floorboards It was like that long-ago moment when, after school, A girl lay on her bed, legs in the air, Peeling off black Lisle stockings to reveal naked legs, Pale, hard, strong and so touchable and fair. I was sanding … Continue reading →

  Prelude I The koru unfurls, loosening a careful hold and the sequence starts anew: bumblebees clamber on stamen, pistil; branch split by shoot as red leaf breaks from green, unconscious of days fog-filled at noon. II Out past the … Continue reading →

  Forty Four Sounds   * Mark Graver writes this about Forty Four Sounds: This was actually constructed first as a Dadaist poem, the words and phrases were selected then randomly drawn out of a hat.  This was done twice … Continue reading →

  How Do You Ask a Word to Come Dancing? In many many minutes awake and too often those that should be sleep I flail around with a frail butterfly net trying to capture the right word Words they sit … Continue reading →

Two poems this week, by two poets from Auckland with whom I shared the stage recently at Auckland’s Fringe Festival for the Spit.It.Out Spoken Word series.  Really cool to stand up with these poets performing, among other works, these here. … Continue reading →

The biographer’s body Her hand is always in view. A love letter, perpetual game of hide-&-seek played, where you catch a corner of shirt-sleeves, the sole of a running shoe. It is a pact, this dodge. Promises that involve replacing … Continue reading →

In the Mission, after Lines from Pasolini The steadfast eye is agony. The soul no longer grows. Along the inner Mission the street people clamor for change and little boys scatter from alleys like mice, cursing from the pumped up … Continue reading →