PRACTICE DOES NOT MAKE PERFECT

I've had lots of romance come into my life 

and almost as quickly depart. 

Each fatal attraction began with the eyes 

and worked its way down to my heart

I really should have learned; after the first 

and tried to move on with some cool. 

But one drink of love only deepened my thirst 

I tried it again - what a fool!.

But once I'd accepted my stupidity 

and taken some time out to think 

I did a self audit to get clarity 

and finally decided love's stink

I said to myself “Self you need to get real, 

and focus on what you're good at; 

forget all those muscleheads copping a feel 

you can do much better than that!

Get into life girl - grab on to its’ shorts 

You’re getting nowhere where you are 

Your viewpoint of love has a serious distort 

and all you'll have left is the scar!!”

The wisdom of self I accept gratefully 

who better to give me advice 

but no matter how far away it might be 

I'd like to find somebody nice

A wonderful lover who'll be my best friend 

Intelligent, loyal and kind 

Preferably a poet, or some-one like that 

He must have a creative mind

I hope it will happen – well maybe it might 

I’ve had enough practice I know 

I know that he's out there, my true Mr Right 

But when is he going to show???

http://wandakr45.blogspot.co.nz/

A SIMPLE SUNDAY SCRIBE

So many things inspire me 

when I am writing poetry

A stunning view of mountains white

The beauty of a starry night, 

Seasons changing, rivers flowing, 

flowers blooming, breezes blowing

Crowded streets and quiet byways, 

country lanes and super highways

Romantic dinners, cosy chats

Skipping pebbles and silly hats

Humming birds outside my window

Headless horsemen, Sleepy Hollow

Come to bed eyes, sensual looks

Fashion statements, history books

I could go on and on all day

With all these thoughts that come my way

A Higher Power, a summer day

An autumn shower, a donkey’s bray

A Harley guy, a groupie girl

A tiny ballet dancer’s twirl

Children's laughter in a park

The comfort of my puppy’s bark

But now I'm bored and getting tired

My thinking neurons all been fired

But when I'm writing poetry

So many things inspire me

http://wandakr45.blogspot.co.nz/

An Insight To My Soul (A Kyrielle )

My poetry creates for me

My beliefs and philosophy

I hope each write will clearly show

The poet I want you to know

My thoughts I pull from everywhere

and analyse each one with care

You’ll see within the written flow

The poet I want you to know

My passion’s in my poetry

Reveals the very soul of me

This insight to my life will show

The poet I want you to know 

My poetry creates for me

The poet I want you to know

Who Grows Poetry?

Does poetry grow the poet - or the poet, poetry?

I’ve thought about this many times it often puzzles me

When William Butler Yeats sat thinking in his writing chair

I wonder what inspired “cloths of heaven” to appear.. 

Those sonnets from Neruda, all those odes to love and life

were lovingly created because he adored his wife

I think most poetry’s triggered by experiencing life -

- by times of sad, and times of glad, of turmoil and of strife?

Reading through the history of those poets now long gone

The more I read their poetry the more I get turned on

But one day if the question ever should be asked of me

Did poetry grow you poet? Or did you grow poetry?

I’ll pause just for an instant before I simply smile and say

“I haven’t found the answer yet so kindly go away”….

The Gift of Quiet

Out in that nothingness where silent lives

Inside the serenity that it gives

Warmed by that quiet filled nothingness space

That’s where my thoughts find their own special place

There they find solace in sweet meditation 

Turning those thoughts into sweet inspiration

Clearing reality out of my mind

Clutter of living all left far behind

So beautiful in its simplicity

Feeling my karma empowering me

Surrendering to an ethereal song

Finally back where I truly belong

Echoes of living, retreat with the day

Dark creeps in slowly as light slips away

Setting a process for thoughts to take flight

Tranquility touches the silence of night

Summer (a nonet)

Floating on my back in the ocean

Sun nice and warm upon my face

Seabirds flying overhead

Ocean peaceful and calm

Summer holidays

are here again

and that means

life is

sweet

A nonet has nine lines. The first line has nine syllables, the second line eight syllables, the third line seven syllables, etc... until line nine finishes with one syllable. It can be on any subject and rhyming is optional.

Sunset (a septolet)

Sun

setting low

below the horizon

farewells day

Twilight

filtering in

welcomes the night

The septolet is a poem consisting of 7 lines containing 14 words with a break in between the 2 parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture. 

A Moment Please

Oh tell me something please because I really want to know

Just where in actuality do all our moments go?

I know they must go somewhere because they were really here

But what’s the next stage of their journey when they disappear

I’ve taken to breaking my life down to each basic part

Believe me it’s not easy – I found problems at the start

It does become a passion once you find the right beginning

Sometimes with little successes I even break out singing

But seriously folks there are some things can be quite deep

In fact - I kid you not, it’s often difficult to sleep

I made a promise to myself one day long, long ago

To live life in the moment and to just go with its’ flow

And for the most part it has been great I’ve had no need to doubt

But now I feel there’s more to it that I have to find out

So if there is a font of wisdom in my universe

That has a meaningful response to this accursed curse

I’d be so very grateful as my cyber hugs will show

Oh tell me pretty please where do those bloody moments go?

The "Dark" Side

Shoes dangling
from high wires
draw the eye..
squealing tyres
nearby..

just ahead kids
pour out of park
some still be there
come dark..

in their hoodies
drinking, fighting
…on fences writing
 In the park
After dark
Broken glass,
smoking grass

Up the road, out of sight
voices raised, family fight
Money lost
on the slots
 Sound of slap, crying
Dishes flying..

Normal day in the ‘hood
It’s all good…
Nothing new & 
right on cue
Prowling through…the boys in blue

 

Dreams And Little Angels

In the dark, the quiet dark, as I lie in my bed

Waiting for the dream weaver to come inside my head

Often I would contemplate on things I did today

Thoughts turned to this morning when I heard my moko say

‘Nanny, can I stay home please, I really don’t feel well

I sighed- oh here we go again, here comes the super sell!

I tried to get my focus as he eyed me with a frown

Making space as he slid underneath my eiderdown

‘I don’t feel very well and I’m feeling really funny,

It’s very sore and so’s my head so can I stay home Nanny?’

‘How about I write a note to Whaea Pam – okay?; 

tell her to excuse you from the swimming pool today?’

‘Ummm, ok Nanny but that means that I will have to go

and stay in Whaea Sally’s class and watch a video!’

‘Oh dear,’ I said ‘well maybe not, then best we call the doc -

and if we hurry we might get in before it’s nine o’clock!’

‘He just might say - you’ll be okay - to go to school today!’

And if he does then we can drop you off there right away

Not a word was spoken from the small lump in my bed

But I could hear the wheels of thinking turning in his head

Then from underneath the covers came this little squeak

Very muffled, very quiet, so I took a peek

Two big eyes, quite bright and clear were staring up at me

Not a trace upon that face of illness could I see 

I’m feeling better Nanny, so I think I’ll go to school

But I don’t want to go with Whaea to the swimming pool

I’ll write a note I said, and now it’s time to rise and shine

He’d rather go to school than to the doc’s - this imp of mine!

In the dark, the quiet dark, as I lie in my bed

Waiting for the dream weaver to come inside my head

As usual, before I sleep and start to drift away

I send a silent thank you for the blessings of my day.

Dumb Breeds Dumber

Man is such a sanctimonious species

He actually thinks there’s no smell to his faeces

He writes all these laws from out of some space

And ignores the natural ones already in place

If it wasn’t so pathetic it would be funny

This desperate obsession with power and money

Acts of abuse right across global zones

Focus on getting rich while poverty moans

Man is the one who created the law

He never took note of the ones here before

Those basic and simple rules made to provide

All of the good things one needs to survive

Ripped out the trees to create paper cash

Created big landfills for human made trash

Changing the things Mother Earth set in lore

Feeding his greed by exploiting her core

Dig deep enough and he’ll soon hit a nerve

And then he will get what he’ll justly deserve

Did he think that those earthquakes appeared by a fluke?

Well they came as a result of places he nuked

With his fancy pants weapons, his need to control

He’s such an ungrateful pathetic arsehole

He can’t say he’s never been warned from his birth

You kill Mother Nature, you’re killing the earth

One day her message is going to get through            

And the smell that results will be much more than poo

Old Friends (Haiku)

There is totally

nothing in this universe

quite like an old friend

Their contribution

to your life extends above

and beyond the norm..

Their entire concern

for your total well being

- unconditional!

Moments In Time

If I could choose one moment in my life to ponder on

Eliminating everything that I depend upon

I'd probably take forever contemplating everything

And take more than one lifetime just in deliberating

My life has been a steady flow of insignificance

and never really changes much by fate or circumstance

However in the realms of everything that's possible

I still feel like I'm waiting for something incredible.

Meanwhile, while I wait, I think I'll just continue on

Meandering through each moment just in case it comes along

It's highly more than likely though I just might very well

Grow old and grey just sitting here - without a tale to tell.

Philosophicalish Me

Sky is overcast and grey but I’m alive and breathing

That makes it a good day and gives living it some meaning

Sometimes feeling very old, I’m past all expectations

Winter does this every time, demands self explorations

Quietly in contemplation looking down life’s journey

Wondering about the things that life decided for me

Considering the impacts from the mild to the extremes

Recalling distant yearnings and those unrequited dreams

Life and people moving on and so it will always be

Many touch my life then leave until there is only me

It’s all those little things in life that shape our universe

Accepting it is what it is - a blessing or a curse

Our destiny’s to roll with everything life brings our way

That has been my experience there’s not much more to say

Just live each moment given but just know eventually

Those moments have a cut off date - and so sadly do we.

My Beautiful (Ada Is Her Name)

 I had a dream and in this dream my beautiful was there

She said “I’ll see you later boy!” I said “You come back here!!”

She answered back “you got 10 others boy - we’re all the same”;

I said “there’s one my beautiful – and Ada is her name!”

She turned and took my hand and said “This thing is mine to do,

you know that when I start something, I always see it through”

You’ll be ok there’s 10 still there, you know we’re all the same!!”

I said “I need my beautiful – and Ada is her name!”

Then from the shadows just beyond two images appeared

One big and tall, the other small - both smiling, silver haired

My beautiful said “Here they are, I called out and they came”

They came to take my beautiful – and Ada is her name!

The selfishness, the wanting with my soul to have her here

Has lessened now I know she’s with our Mum and Dad somewhere

What lingers still and always will – the everlasting pain

That in this life I’ll never see my beautiful again…

My beautiful has always been so beautiful to me

As in this dream as well as life unto eternity

I know there are 10 others and she’s right, we are the same;

But none are like my beautiful – and Ada is her name!.

Leap Of Faith

Life is ever changing, always re arranging

And into its flow we all go…

We pause in our living of taking and giving

to balance the fast with the slow

Life unfolds its story, in all of its glory

It builds word by word, line by line

Each page, every chapter, each critical factor

Is always a personal design…

Like Genesis rising, it’s not so surprising

we all need a point to begin.

Our painful arrival, and length of survival

Is part of the mix we’re all in..

Life makes all the choices, it hears not our voices

Each book is a life that’s brand new

There’s tweaking and blending, right up to the ending, 

Life does all the editing too.

Each life that it’s giving, we’re meant to be living

So live it right down to your soul

Forget backward glances, there’s no second chances

There’s only one shot at the goal…

Wake Up Call

Dark thoughts enter uninvited, 

..yawning with disdain

Nonchalantly settle in 

to gate keep once again

Once again the challenge enters, 

like it did before..

Once again I’m unprepared 

for that knock on the door

Not much one can do about it 

but look on and sigh;

Hoping that a miracle 

may drop out of the sky

No-one’s bullet proof 

no matter what the expert says

Many of us know those bullets

come in many ways..

I like to get on with life 

- not worry what might be

There is always someone else

who’s much worse off than me

Faith keeps those who keep the faith 

be focused and you'll see

Friends will help to carry you 

through great adversity

Strategy I use when 

contemplating what to do..

Not the only one but it’s

the stronger one of two..

Open up my computer

let inspiration flow

Into my world of poetry

I confidently go..

Nothing is impossible

when I am in that zone

I can see forever 

with my friends or on my own

All I need is keep the faith

inside me every day.

Faith, my friends, my poetry

help take the dark away..

Ode To Aging

 

The process of aging can be traumatic

But then again for some not so dramatic

However there are things that come with the role

Impacting in some way on body and soul

We often forget what we no longer see

Memory seems shorter than it used to be

One time it was nouveau to memorise things

and take on forever what forever brings

Clear recollections of moments in spaces

Flowed with the pleasures of people and places

When quickness of sharp minds marked sweet days of youth

Shaping experiences from life’s constant truth

But aging like seasons within their own rhyme

Change slowly, inevitably over time

On our contributions we rise or we fall

And hope it’s the good stuff that gets the recall

When I reach that great state of maturity

Well - if it’s the will of the powers that be

I hope when I look back at all I have done

It will be enough to have life say “well done!”

Waters Of The Moon

A golden summer moon hangs low and heavy in the night

Night birds show out in silhouette against her glowing light 

While warm and fragrant winds blow sweet across a quiet lagoon

The moonlight gleams, on crystal streams, from waters of the moon.

Two lovers, arms around each other, stroll beside the sea

The music of the moonlight serenades them tenderly

Knowing that the magic of the night will be gone soon

They plan their schemes, as crystal streams from waters of the moon

Together they make promises and seal each with a kiss

No matter what their future it can never better this

The music of the night plays out its universal tune

And sings of dreams, and crystal streams from waters of the moon.

A Poem A Day

Living a poem’s much more than its words.. 

More fragrant than flowers, or soaring of birds 

Extends far beyond all perception of time 

It challenges reason, it amplifies rhyme 

It pulsates across every possible zone 

With conceptions that are virtually unknown 

The romance, the passion, the sweet mystery 

Is there in the beauty of life’s poetry 

Poetic words impact on emotions deep 

Fuel imagination, makes elusive - sleep 

Poetry’s an affliction, one needs to take care 

A sweet, sweet addiction so buyer beware 

In poetry as in life there are few basic rules 

Life will suffer madly the wisdom of fools 

However, what life through a poem may say 

Try at least once living - a poem a day

Life – A PoemII

Poetry is all life and all life’s poetry. 

The living of it creates our history 

It clings to our day through the things that we do 

Pulsates through our nights in the dreams we pursue 

Poetry is right there in the things we all see 

Inspiring, transpiring, aspiring us to be 

May come complicated or in a smooth way 

In waking or sleeping, in work or at play 

In patterns and colours - in quiet, with sounds 

In everyday actions our living surrounds 

We each have our habits exclusive to us 

Performing each with or without any fuss 

Our lives are all different and always unique 

We struggle but manage our strengths with our weak 

Our lives, as we live it has structures essential, 

And each structural part has poetic potential. 

We limit ourselves, yet we are limitless 

How great is our being is anyone’s guess 

We control those things we want others to know 

And hold back on things that we don’t want to show 

Emotions are ruled by the head and the heart 

Of life’s ebbs and flows we are always a part 

Through rhyme and with reason our lives clearly show 

We move to the beat of a poetic flow

Sweet Confession

I openly confess a love that goes beyond the norm 

A passion filled devotion that would challenge any storm 

It rises of its own volition - from a power base 

Established in imagination, never face to face 

Unquestioning, strategically created by the heart 

Where logical and common sense will never play a part 

For time there is no meaning here and distance even less 

A place where light and darkness merge in shadowy caress 

This warm, hypnotic space accentuates my state of being 

Confirms the surreality that some things need no “seeing”. 

It’s said that love is timeless and my choice transcends all time 

This love born out of sweet “hello” has now been forged in rhyme

Seasons Of Life

 The skies outside are grey, rain falls as winter settles in 

The naked trees sway drunkenly into the savage wind 

The changing face of Nature as the winter comes to call 

Becomes aloof and distant as it leaves behind the Fall 

Children in their innocence take seasons in their stride 

Not really sensing differences, content in or outside 

Our lives are similar to Nature in so many ways 

We have our rhythms, our routines that fill our nights and days 

Spring brings new beginnings, the rebirth of many things 

Summer is the time for fun and all that Christmas brings 

Autumn slows the pace right down preparing for a rest 

Before the Winter opens for her Icy Winterfest 

Where Nature’s role is infinite, ours tragically is not 

No matter how we wish it were, we only get one shot 

Seasons will come, seasons will go until eventually 

We carry on alone to meet our greater Destiny

Poetry For President

Tell me Poem President, I’d really like to know

How you built a whole campaign from your poetic flow?

Did you feel that strategy would be the way to go?

Did you seek advice from others also in the know?

Tel me Poem President, when you first felt the call

What was your game plan for this political football? 

Given there were others more experienced and all

Or did you just know you would not be the one to fall?

Tell me Poem President, after the race was run

There was nothing left to do, nothing was left undone

All the votes were counted and you’d definitely won

Was the deal to gain appeal -"Go hard, but make it fun"?

Oh yes Poem President, before I go away

And leave you in peace to re design our world today

Love your long term vision to keep misery at bay?

"Do the rhyme wins every time"; looks like you’re here to stay!!

Questions & Answers

(Q)  What is it that fills your mind

That stirs the essence of your being?

(A)  It could be that the truth I find

Disputes the knowing from the seeing

(Q)  Will it calm the raging tide

And sit you quietly to one side?

(A)  Depends on what has stirred the flame

And who or what accepts the blame

(Q)  Will it quiet your restless sigh

Where time needs not some filling?

(A)  Who knows; maybe the answers lie 

Beyond this time I’m killing

(Q)  Will you envision what should be

Upon the stage in which you play?

(A)  My audience will measure me 

By accolade will show the way

(Q)  Is there peace within your mind

In the sounds that echo wide?

(A)  Inner peace I hope to find

If love and laughter be my guide

Life - A Journey

You can say at the end 

that life is your friend

and pretend to yourself that it's true

But life never chooses, 

there's no winners or losers

- we do what life wants us to do

Be we early or late, 

sometimes life makes us wait

for the message it finally sends

Through its ebbs and its flows ;

my friends, only life knows;

what awaits when our life’s journey ends

Winter Is A Wanker

The Winter I find, has just one thing in mind 

To keep all my body parts shivering 

And try as I might to put up a fight 

I can’t stop the punch it’s delivering 

I turn up the heat, put warm socks on my feet 

To stop all the quivering and quaking 

Though I’m turning quite blue, it skates right on through 

Ignoring my shuddering and shaking 

I dance on the spot till my temper gets hot 

But that heat doesn’t help me one bit 

I’ll not give in though, let it rain, let it snow 

I’ll not be the first one to quit 

I’m feeling quite ill with my huge power bill 

It’s my heat pump, it’s on every day 

But my friends it’s no joke, I’d much rather be broke 

Than let Winter have its wicked way. 

I can’t wait for Summer, Winter is a bummer 

Or maybe I’m just getting old 

No, that isn’t true, even though I’ve turned blue 

I’m just really pissed off by the cold.

REMEMBERING

(For My Dad 1918 - 1993)

Over the years my Dad spoke of his life

Things that he did before he took a wife 

The one thing I'll always remember him say

Don't wait for tomorrow, be happy today

His stories were mainly of his growing years

The struggles, the hardship, the laughter, the tears

The one thing I always remember him say

There’s never tomorrow, there’s only today

He went overseas and he fought in a war

He never spoke much on the things that he saw

But one thing I'll always remember him say

There was no tomorrow, there was just today

I asked "in the war were you ever afraid?"

I knew that for many a high price was paid

He'd think for a moment then quietly say

We had no tomorrow, we just had today

I guess from his wisdom I’ve learned a few things

To live for each day and accept what it brings

So if someone asks for my guidance I’ll say

Just forget tomorrow, and live for today.

Aurora Australis

I saw the Southern Lights once

as I was travelling to the Bluff

I wasn’t driving so I had time

to feed my eyes.

Far across the Canterbury Plains

on its western horizon -

pulsating, constantly moving

ever changing glowing fantastic

light show mesmerised and hypnotised

and I thought, people should see

this phenomena for themselves

not on the documentary channel;

not on the internet, or in

National Geographic

but for real – with their own eyes

at least once….changes perception.

Really does.