Moored Poems

Love and Becoming

...Nanaya: 
“Self love - bereft of sin, beseeching and riveting in my spirit, jumps over me in the power of expression. Each twirl of my spirits dance radiates an effervescent power directed at my over...

Moored On Brittle Soil

...
As I lay on mounds of a shoreline, 
weightless in eyes' astounded spirit 
blending with angels, dirt, and crosses; 
my soul bears this emptiness 
in writhing streams omnipresent for day 
and t...

The South Bay

...
No glamour here in the South Bay
where function and industry reign 
just an occasional seagull is seen
gliding over steel grid power lines. 

The daily westerly winds whistle
swaying a small ...

What the Storm Splayed and Spared

...
Dust taints scent of rain
the wind wrenches gate ajar
lightning splits the clouds—
grime streaks down marble headstones,
as silver names bleed deep red

bouquets torn and flung
petals smashe...

Countenance

...
once vague metaphor
now pin pricks with emoji,
with door left ajar~
a notice slips in unnamed,
with ash on breath, match unlit.

fangs lurk in the mouth,
breath pockets the broken glass,
tu...

Our Better Angels

...
Written: July 26, 2025, for contest Sponsored by: Edward Ibeh

        ***********

When anger swirls and trust cheats,
When hearts rupture and hope is heavy.
Our brave backs figh...

By the Lake

...

summer season by the lake-water warm
black flies swarm, in boat’s wake
floating dock moored to a stake
mallard ducks follow the drake
...

Build They Come, Solve They Ask!

...
Cart before horse
Drink the horse to water
Spill the bean to go-betweens
Hold hands to stay the course
Bygones never happened on, by here
Slay the messenger! Doggone they're here!
Dilemmas ar...

The Invitation

...

I will be at the cafe 
across from the pier
with a coffee
and a buttery croissant.
I have kept a place 
for you, a sunlit table
and prepared a view
with small boats moored
in a mirrored c...

Dawn Pond

...Brackish lichen forms a raft upon the pond,
a low haze floats like a moored airship.
Small frogs chirrup sotto-voce
as if they were
dreaming sparrows.

Water birds dabble in their sleep.
Soon ...

The watched are watching you

...The watched pot never boils.
The watched clock slows.
The stalked knows,
to watch the suddenly still ones, 
that lie moored with anchor bestowed, 
just out of reach, wanting, staring, blinking,
...

River Tales

...His canvas boots still tell of the mountain,
yet Old Man River has changed, grown or dwindled -
hard to say.
Maybe the ragged winged carrion birds
have spirited him away?

The newly painted riv...

Wonder

...
Listen……hear
the distant hum
of early morning traffic
on Westgate Bridge,
a chorus of birdsong
and that eastbound 
aeroplane flying high 
overhead en route 
to Wellington 
or Christchurch....

the echo returns not

...
steeped in an ocean of time
slow motion’s recurrence reverberated 
concentric circles rippled the tide
moored its anchor 
in illusions of safety

yet the harbour was far away
a mere tug at a...

Dark Ruminations with Caveat

...If fate opposed is useless, what great need
     is there to challenge dark despair's great power
when spirit dies, and soul, mind, body bleed,
     as hope wilts like a melancholic flower?

Whe...

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