And last but not least, this section houses This Section is Well Developed, Rock Your World, She's Best Served Cold, and personal fave, the Impressions of Depression. Thanks for reading!!
This Section is Well Developed
(A Found Poem from Tommy's Real Estate advertisements)
Quite stunning, in fact.
You can't pass this up!
A luscious sum of perfection
from those with impressive lifestyles
you'll blush - it's quite stunning.
In fact, we've found your Nirvana:
inspiring busy flow in a beige dream
makes for very pleasant creative souls.
First time in 20 years, exuding with character
Market: living life - very popular, viewing a must
Lovingly presented space, it too is stunning -
5 bed, 2 bath, 1 gracious mirror with walk-in runway, double
garage offering an intimate and warn new life
You deserve stunning ambiance
this opportunity to enjoy,
you're building a new
style on a stunning sunny section-
all your dreams come true
with eye-watering value.
NB: - if you turn me on my side, I kind of look like a house.
She’s Best Served Cold
Her curves like a road well-traveled,
her top comes off with a plaintive sigh.
She is intoxicating with
her luscious scent,
but she is coy.
Anticipation bubbles like lava
she toys with you, as an autumn breeze
bursting with summer fruits
and a hint of pear.
Her eye sparkles, glints back at
your reflection. She winks -
you are her willing prey.
Magnetic, like a player
to the score line, she’s best served
cold, and a shiver runs down your
spine like an avalanche, as you
traverse towards her inviting throat.
The first gulp, then another.
She tacitly soothes
conscience with honeyed
whispers in your ear.
She engulfs you as you consume her.
She drizzles confidence, sweetens
thoughts, hushes judgments; more!
You the wanton addict-
She is
as provocative as a dare.
Rock Your World
Doormat done - I'm
alive! My earthen belly
rumbles, igneous hunger awoken
Who's up for a little
moving and shaking?
I have felt your jackhammers judder
down and the drills
extricating precious parts. Did you
think that I would
lie down, allow your mole-like mining
ad infinitum?
Let me drill something into
you are mere mites on my surface.
Furious blasting and
tunnelling through - the fault
line has been crossed and I will
not be going back
Pebble to the
metal, crumple the floor. Ground
shakes, souls break
let the boulder
drop as the fields
beneath vascillate with terror of
the tremble, seismic spasm: shock
after shock, after shock
greets hearts that shudder on
pulsating streets.
Tectonic uplift; earth in raucous revolt
Not a slow slip down the sideline
No, my molten might emerges
stirs something deep and dreary within
You 'earthlings' are the epicentre
of my malcontent.
You aren't my master! Not so
grounded now, are you?
I am the DJ dictating your party
Let the boulder drop
I am your rumbling bass drum
time to rock and roll
put your hands in the air
We're getting all Barney Rubble
up in here
Sway with the rhythm
Foot tapping, head banging
Hell raising, drop the beat!
Movers, shakers, motion master
Shocking? It's electrifying
Shake, rattle and roll,
Rocky horror all our own.
The Impressions of Depression
When we were kids we loved
the turns and the dips
and bumps, the click-clack
of the climb, clattering to the
concave bend and the
scream-worthy downhill descent into
the loop-de-loop, the cars following,
like tip-toppling dominoes, then
diving into a corkscrew twist.
Breathless, my brothers and I, our blood
pumped like the brakes as the
cars pulled in, announcing
our cue to exit.
Grin, then repeat, on loop.
After Dad left, the son set
on children's hi-jinx - transformed to
teenage attitude, rode the downhill.
And the rollercoaster was no more fun.
Up the game, up the stakes
Heightened track, he'd be looking
out-in-up-around, squiggling in his chair.
He'd be jiggling the harness, tugging at the belts,
screwing with the bolts, hands securely
outside the car.
There'd been the trek-trippin'
to the top, plateauing to a pathetic malaise
gasp, grin/grimace
uphill harrowed us with the threat:
stable is an unstable thing.
Threat realised and attempted
He'd been rescued from the fall before
Though he had been
trailing in the dips awhile, the trips
back up were alive with promise -
downhill dive less likely -
yet perpetual fear of falling always
a possibility.
Judgement in jeopardy
by a plethora of pills
and verbal spills by the ex
This time he made
sure that rescue was redundant.
He loosened the screws from the track ahead
Stealthy dealings in after-hours handiwork
The rollercoaster car trailed off like a runaway,
He had dismantled the desire to live,
met his end in the downhill, scream.
These were written by Lauren Brooking. (acknowledge where appropriate)
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Poetry Portfolio Part 2
This part contains Losing It, May the First and all that, My Imaginary Friend.
Losing It
My name is Joy. Mum said
she called me that because I smiled
when I was born. She said it was
probably just gas but she was the happiest
mum on the planet. She said more
people should name their children
after a good memory.
There's a girl in my class called Serena.
When she gets mad she throws her hands up,
yells 'God, give me serenity!'
I asked her why
she said that's what her mum says
just before she loses it.
I asked her what 'serenity' meant
She said it was everything she wanted to be.
We're studying the state of Virginia at school
I told my teacher about my Aunt Virginia
Dad said she's was 'a royal
pain in the ass'
I wonder if, in Virginia, she'd be royalty?
I'll google it at home.
I went to type in 'virginia' but accidentally typed 'virginid'
and google asked 'do you mean virginity?'
Maybe I did?
So I read a bit. There were a lot of big
words I hadn't seen before
so I decided to ask mum - she'd know.
"Is Aunt Virginia named after a good memory too, mum?"
Mum was peeling potatoes.
"Mum, what's a virginity? Is it like serenity?"
She dropped the potato she was peeling
"Mum, what happens if you lose your virginity?
Is that what Serena means by 'lose it'?"
Mum's cheeks started going red and
she didn't say anything straight away
My little brother watching TV overheard,
he piped up,
"You go and find it again, silly!"
First May Then All That (Terror Rising)
The Patriot Puppet mesmerizes
the crowd
cries and raises
their star-strangled banner
Freedom sneaks
and Bravery spangles
Taleban flesh pounded
Heady tale, smells like
Pentagonal 9/11 cordite
Events conspired to plan
Benefiting whose insides?
The Prating Puppet proclaims:
"Truth - take it and eat!
It may turn the stomach sour
but it will taste honey-sweet"
Spin into control
Of - by - for the people
but which people?
Those more equal?
An eye for a lie
The Prayer Puppet seeds the march
God bless America
in justice, for taking life
for killing another’s wife
Defeated – but for how long?
Enigmatic enemy
Champion of hide and seek
Found holed up in cave
of luxury
The Print Puppet impresses
leading story, shows
late success
Pressed public weep
with just joy
Magnetic demagogues*
point 'True' North;
but navigating by that compass
leads in fool circles
All the world's a stage
And all the people in it
Merely being played.
*dem·a·gogue/ˈdeməˌgäg/Noun
1. A political leader who seeks support by appealing to popular desires and prejudices rather than by using rational argument.
My Imaginary Friend
When we met you hid
gold rocks for
me, I was Dorothy following
your lion-heart
to the evergreen city
of first times and like/love.
I dreamt about you last
night, as if
the decade between didn't
exist - we were again sixteen.
Even in my dream
I was nervous about saying
the wrong/right thing.
I was sold out on you
I thought, in love. You
an island's length away,
mostly MSN's 2D fantasy - yet real.
Your ghost is a biased truth.
The fact to my fiction is:
Awake, you teeter the corners of reason
Asleep, you invade my dreams
True/False - you loved and
left me well.
Now, I'm captive to an idea/l.
I want to see you,
shatter the perfect picture,
I crave that the fantasies end,
Come, return reveries into reality;
Whatever that may/may not be.
Losing It
My name is Joy. Mum said
she called me that because I smiled
when I was born. She said it was
probably just gas but she was the happiest
mum on the planet. She said more
people should name their children
after a good memory.
There's a girl in my class called Serena.
When she gets mad she throws her hands up,
yells 'God, give me serenity!'
I asked her why
she said that's what her mum says
just before she loses it.
I asked her what 'serenity' meant
She said it was everything she wanted to be.
We're studying the state of Virginia at school
I told my teacher about my Aunt Virginia
Dad said she's was 'a royal
pain in the ass'
I wonder if, in Virginia, she'd be royalty?
I'll google it at home.
I went to type in 'virginia' but accidentally typed 'virginid'
and google asked 'do you mean virginity?'
Maybe I did?
So I read a bit. There were a lot of big
words I hadn't seen before
so I decided to ask mum - she'd know.
"Is Aunt Virginia named after a good memory too, mum?"
Mum was peeling potatoes.
"Mum, what's a virginity? Is it like serenity?"
She dropped the potato she was peeling
"Mum, what happens if you lose your virginity?
Is that what Serena means by 'lose it'?"
Mum's cheeks started going red and
she didn't say anything straight away
My little brother watching TV overheard,
he piped up,
"You go and find it again, silly!"
First May Then All That (Terror Rising)
The Patriot Puppet mesmerizes
the crowd
cries and raises
their star-strangled banner
Freedom sneaks
and Bravery spangles
Taleban flesh pounded
Heady tale, smells like
Pentagonal 9/11 cordite
Events conspired to plan
Benefiting whose insides?
The Prating Puppet proclaims:
"Truth - take it and eat!
It may turn the stomach sour
but it will taste honey-sweet"
Spin into control
Of - by - for the people
but which people?
Those more equal?
An eye for a lie
The Prayer Puppet seeds the march
God bless America
in justice, for taking life
for killing another’s wife
Defeated – but for how long?
Enigmatic enemy
Champion of hide and seek
Found holed up in cave
of luxury
The Print Puppet impresses
leading story, shows
late success
Pressed public weep
with just joy
Magnetic demagogues*
point 'True' North;
but navigating by that compass
leads in fool circles
All the world's a stage
And all the people in it
Merely being played.
*dem·a·gogue/ˈdeməˌgäg/Noun
1. A political leader who seeks support by appealing to popular desires and prejudices rather than by using rational argument.
My Imaginary Friend
When we met you hid
gold rocks for
me, I was Dorothy following
your lion-heart
to the evergreen city
of first times and like/love.
I dreamt about you last
night, as if
the decade between didn't
exist - we were again sixteen.
Even in my dream
I was nervous about saying
the wrong/right thing.
I was sold out on you
I thought, in love. You
an island's length away,
mostly MSN's 2D fantasy - yet real.
Your ghost is a biased truth.
The fact to my fiction is:
Awake, you teeter the corners of reason
Asleep, you invade my dreams
True/False - you loved and
left me well.
Now, I'm captive to an idea/l.
I want to see you,
shatter the perfect picture,
I crave that the fantasies end,
Come, return reveries into reality;
Whatever that may/may not be.
Poetry Portfolio Part 1
So following will be the 10 poems that I've submitted for my poetry portfolio this term just gone, haven't gotten marks back from it, kinda don't want marks back from it - it's all just a bit scary to have that kinda thing strongly critiqued or what have you, but something about this is what I signed up for, so deal. Some of the poems have slightly adult themed content, what can I say, I like the shock factor. For the record, none of these are based on any of my actual experiences, just an overactive imagination.
This part contains Dream Girl, See a Penny, Pick it Up, Fondu
Dream Girl
Tonight it chimed in when she tuned out
Girl Friday, all there, waiting, just for a moment
there was a nanosecond between her and defeat
as she stood there shaking to the beat.
Girl Friday, all there, waiting, for just a moment
she wanted to shine, stop traffic
as she stood there shaking to the beat
her grip on reality was poles apart from his
She wanted to shine, to stop traffic
attention seeks wallflower, notice finally given
her grip on reality was poles apart from this
and she flung herself into her routine, full swing
Attention seeks wallflower, final notice given
high ideals, heels to match
and she flung herself into her routine, full swing
she bent over backwards to please.
High ideals, heels to match
assume the role, get a grip
she bent over backwards to please
herself. She grinned her satisfaction
Assume the role, get a grip
there was a nanosecond between her and defeating
herself. She grinned her satisfaction -
tonight it chimed in when she tuned out.
See A Penny, Pick It Up
She called me back! Opportunity for a life
with style. Interview with the fashion
goddess! The secretary's voice pinballs through my
mind - 'Important', 'must be there', 'can't be late'
It's like the rabbit's important date
Late - 12 minutes to be precise.
Fucking public transport!
Finally, the bus comes -
number 7 - to carry me to this
potential metamorphosis,
idle to fashion idol
Penny v 2.0
My Snapper card out, I rise to the occasion
I shadow the bus stop, foot claps
concrete, wave until I lose a button,
earnest eyes fasten the driver.
He smirks, drives on
until my flailing fingers
turn to one.
I missed the bus,
(just like dad said I would.)
But this isn't over yet.
The driver must make his next stop;
I must make him stop.
Yes! Pedestrians!
A quick sprint down to the paused bus
knuckles rap at the door
I try to pry it open -
this interview is worth a broken nail.
The driver ignores me
So I mimic a pedestrian, sidle out in front
I drop my Snapper which I must pick up
The 'bend and snap' gives
me more than I bargained for.
The top one, two, three buttons ping off
and with more than cleavage in sight
the driver's jaw drops and
behind him, the passengers whistle, cheer.
My face, radiant scarlet, matches the berets
of the officers that fill the bus.
I see the number 7 and
read 'Trentham Military Camp',
a laminated NZ Army logo mocks
from the dash.
One gallant soldier sees me - damsel
undressed - pushes the emergency
button, door opens,
"Where are you headed?"
Fondu
The mottled melting pot
of colour and taste
bubbles invitingly
flame tickles bulbous pot
wanting in on the action
skewers awry, stabbing
fruit specimens into molten
chocolate develops a skin if left
too long. Kiwifruit plunged
beneath into the creamy rich depths
Fondu for two,
Pacific flavour if you please.
Peruvian mangoes
Philippine bananas,
Hawaiian pineapples and a bit
of coconut rough.
Fusion of flavours
from all corners of the globe.
What is a kiwifruit these days?
Previously a chinese gooseberry
now synonymous with Zespri -
holding global hands
or just political handstands?
The settlers have settled
and now when others claim 'kiwi'
feathers get ruffled.
Us 4th, 5th, 6th generation kiwis
know the lay of the land -
we can help you find where
you stand.
Welcome to New Zealand
The oceania melting pot
Here, delectable and delightful
fresh fruit, F.O.B.
Skewer them into the white
chocolate sea,
heated by the gentle flames
of passive aggression
a side-plate of racial tension
sprinkled with tainted tolerance
Technicolour multi-cultural fruit
salad in the making
baked with a few other bits,
it may become a rich paradise, tart.
This part contains Dream Girl, See a Penny, Pick it Up, Fondu
Dream Girl
Tonight it chimed in when she tuned out
Girl Friday, all there, waiting, just for a moment
there was a nanosecond between her and defeat
as she stood there shaking to the beat.
Girl Friday, all there, waiting, for just a moment
she wanted to shine, stop traffic
as she stood there shaking to the beat
her grip on reality was poles apart from his
She wanted to shine, to stop traffic
attention seeks wallflower, notice finally given
her grip on reality was poles apart from this
and she flung herself into her routine, full swing
Attention seeks wallflower, final notice given
high ideals, heels to match
and she flung herself into her routine, full swing
she bent over backwards to please.
High ideals, heels to match
assume the role, get a grip
she bent over backwards to please
herself. She grinned her satisfaction
Assume the role, get a grip
there was a nanosecond between her and defeating
herself. She grinned her satisfaction -
tonight it chimed in when she tuned out.
See A Penny, Pick It Up
She called me back! Opportunity for a life
with style. Interview with the fashion
goddess! The secretary's voice pinballs through my
mind - 'Important', 'must be there', 'can't be late'
It's like the rabbit's important date
Late - 12 minutes to be precise.
Fucking public transport!
Finally, the bus comes -
number 7 - to carry me to this
potential metamorphosis,
idle to fashion idol
Penny v 2.0
My Snapper card out, I rise to the occasion
I shadow the bus stop, foot claps
concrete, wave until I lose a button,
earnest eyes fasten the driver.
He smirks, drives on
until my flailing fingers
turn to one.
I missed the bus,
(just like dad said I would.)
But this isn't over yet.
The driver must make his next stop;
I must make him stop.
Yes! Pedestrians!
A quick sprint down to the paused bus
knuckles rap at the door
I try to pry it open -
this interview is worth a broken nail.
The driver ignores me
So I mimic a pedestrian, sidle out in front
I drop my Snapper which I must pick up
The 'bend and snap' gives
me more than I bargained for.
The top one, two, three buttons ping off
and with more than cleavage in sight
the driver's jaw drops and
behind him, the passengers whistle, cheer.
My face, radiant scarlet, matches the berets
of the officers that fill the bus.
I see the number 7 and
read 'Trentham Military Camp',
a laminated NZ Army logo mocks
from the dash.
One gallant soldier sees me - damsel
undressed - pushes the emergency
button, door opens,
"Where are you headed?"
Fondu
The mottled melting pot
of colour and taste
bubbles invitingly
flame tickles bulbous pot
wanting in on the action
skewers awry, stabbing
fruit specimens into molten
chocolate develops a skin if left
too long. Kiwifruit plunged
beneath into the creamy rich depths
Fondu for two,
Pacific flavour if you please.
Peruvian mangoes
Philippine bananas,
Hawaiian pineapples and a bit
of coconut rough.
Fusion of flavours
from all corners of the globe.
What is a kiwifruit these days?
Previously a chinese gooseberry
now synonymous with Zespri -
holding global hands
or just political handstands?
The settlers have settled
and now when others claim 'kiwi'
feathers get ruffled.
Us 4th, 5th, 6th generation kiwis
know the lay of the land -
we can help you find where
you stand.
Welcome to New Zealand
The oceania melting pot
Here, delectable and delightful
fresh fruit, F.O.B.
Skewer them into the white
chocolate sea,
heated by the gentle flames
of passive aggression
a side-plate of racial tension
sprinkled with tainted tolerance
Technicolour multi-cultural fruit
salad in the making
baked with a few other bits,
it may become a rich paradise, tart.
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