Tuesday, 29 December 2015
Monday, 14 December 2015
And I know now what I didn't know then by the Tuesday Poets
So
now you are privy to
a thousand thousand things. Jennifer Compton
The geology of the region, the path rain takes under
the earth, the black areas of nitrate. Sarah Jane Barnett
There are places yet to find
where the teeth of ancestors
still speak to us from the forest floor � Kathleen Jones
please do not dance
with the statues. Helen Lowe
I wonder what times I
now you are privy to
a thousand thousand things. Jennifer Compton
The geology of the region, the path rain takes under
the earth, the black areas of nitrate. Sarah Jane Barnett
There are places yet to find
where the teeth of ancestors
still speak to us from the forest floor � Kathleen Jones
please do not dance
with the statues. Helen Lowe
I wonder what times I
Monday, 7 December 2015
Morte D�Arthur (Partial) by Alfred, Lord Tennyson
.
So all day long the noise of battle roll�d
Among the mountains by the winter sea;
Until King Arthur�s table, man by man,
Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their Lord,
King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep,
The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him,
Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights,
And bore him to a chapel nigh the field,
A broken chancel with a broken cross,
That stood on a
So all day long the noise of battle roll�d
Among the mountains by the winter sea;
Until King Arthur�s table, man by man,
Had fallen in Lyonnesse about their Lord,
King Arthur: then, because his wound was deep,
The bold Sir Bedivere uplifted him,
Sir Bedivere, the last of all his knights,
And bore him to a chapel nigh the field,
A broken chancel with a broken cross,
That stood on a
Monday, 30 November 2015
Ring of Fire by Mary Eliza Crane
At the wane of a long season
of heat filled yellow sky,
fire consumes mountain forests
infested, decimated by bark beetles
feasting in their own changing world.
I swim deliciously in a warmer river
without current, cringing at banks
so barren I could walk across.
The water is too hot for salmon
to return upstream and spawn.
Earth degrades to dirt, crumbles in my hand.
Early spring bloomed in a
Monday, 23 November 2015
Ngawhatu by Maggie Rainey-Smith
On
the Richmond bus to Nelson passing Polstead Road
you
only had to say it, and everyone knew, unspoken
we
almost dared not look, it stirred such potent thoughts
caused
laughter, mocking, and a deeply seated superstition
innuendo
out the window, the road that leads to there
To
where? You ask? But
we all knew, we knew for sure
that�s
where the loonies go and you�ll go there for sure
Monday, 16 November 2015
Abdullah, The Servant of God � by Wade Bishop
He was not a handsome man
not even in possession of a face that was easy to look into
it was journey twisted and wrinkled like a baby at birth
........
Monday, 9 November 2015
That girl, by Heidi North-Bailey
She rides side-saddle
into her own clich�
her heart is pumping smoke
boots heavy with things unsaid
sunset flecked with mud
she�s breathing fire
flames curl from her lips
slow-dancing lovers
with cigarette smiles
slink and hips
turn on the clock
and still
after all this time
after so many battered
leather jackets
crumpled sleeps
on strangers� couches
cups of tea
from chipped mugs
into her own clich�
her heart is pumping smoke
boots heavy with things unsaid
sunset flecked with mud
she�s breathing fire
flames curl from her lips
slow-dancing lovers
with cigarette smiles
slink and hips
turn on the clock
and still
after all this time
after so many battered
leather jackets
crumpled sleeps
on strangers� couches
cups of tea
from chipped mugs
Monday, 2 November 2015
Like a Reed Boat by William S. Rea
Like a reed boat
that slipped its mooring
Set drifting on
the current
Or the heaping up
of ripened grain
In the time of
harvest
He was farewelled
Gone, in the
fullness of his time
But that final
slipping away
Still came like
something unexpected
Like an empty
pier or a barren field
Which once
brimmed with purpose
Bustled with life
and vigour
Now there was
silence
Except
Monday, 26 October 2015
Excerpt from 'Glaciers' by Sarah Jane Barnett
She notes down the time, opens the aquifer sample
taken from a farm west of Hastings, a saturated and fertile zone
of nested multilevel wells. She pours
it into the debubbler. The team used a direct push
drill, the cleanest way to sample intensive farming regions.
The water shines as it shunts through the tubes.
She builds a model on her computer, maps
the geology of the
Monday, 19 October 2015
Wild Daisies by Bub Bridger
If you love me
Bring me flowers
Wild daisies
Clutched in your fist
Like a torch
No orchids or roses
Or carnations
No florist's bow
Just daisies
Steal them
Risk your life for them
Up the sharp hills
In the teeth of the wind
If you love me
Bring me daisies
That I will cram
In a bright vase
And marvel at
by Bub Bridger (Ngati Kahungunu), "Up Here on the Hill", Mallinson Rendel, Wellington, 1989
Monday, 12 October 2015
Yawn by Sarah Rice
Funny how a yawn travels through a room
a pied piper gathering all the rats
In that instant we all draw from the
same source
a great swallowed gasp shoved into our lungs
like socks stuffed in a bag
and the
long outward sigh
That we try to hide it up our
sleeves
makes us culprits in common
like playing truant
with a friend
It�s mostly like this
our bodies
that bind us together
Monday, 5 October 2015
Before by Janette Pieloor
.......................� J Pieloor
.......................Published by Walleah Press
.......................Reproduced
on The Tuesday Poem with permission
.......................Editor: P. S. Cottier
.
Janette Pieloor had her first collection, Ripples Under the Skin, published earlier this year by Walleah Press, who are producing attractive and compelling books. The cover,