The following are an assortment of poems I wrote during a creative writing paper I took during the summer. As such, all of them are inspired by in-class exercises (as was part of our final assignment). Nothing too spectacular.Old Man Reaching
He reaches upward, praying
His rotted skin peeling
Revealing bone and hurts
To a sky never reached.
Dark children hide, quietly
Beneath their leafy canopy,
Odd white toes peeking
Still the old man reaches.
All-seeing eyes look on, unflinching
Tall and proud, unblinking
Casting light on a concrete beach,
Still the old man reaches.
God in his glory, standing
High above hands reaching.
Cold and hard, sickly grey
Still the old man prays.(This poem written from ideas inspired by the simile practice exercise between Central Library and Registry.)Faraway On Home Shore
Two majestic sisters stood side-by-side,
Looking upon the ocean and the world.
They saw their futures with promise and pride,
But in 1912 it all unfurled.
In came April with its iceberg-filled seas
The youngest, going too fast, hit the ice.
Her starboard badly gashed, her insides seized,
And for that she paid the ultimate price.
Panic filled the air that night, screams, shouts, cries
Trampling, snapping, groaning as her aft rose.
Deep within, little sister slowly dies
An almighty snap – a roar! – down she goes.
All were one – the ship, the rich and the poor.
In the Atlantic, the dead, the frozen
Swimming naked on the cold ocean floor
While above waited the living, the broken.
Their lives before them seemed all but veiled,
And back on home shore a sister wailed.(Sonnet inspired by the photo of the White Star Line sister-ships, RMS Olympic and RMS Titanic.)The Life of Heart
The heart beat begins the tune,
To lives it brings a life a new.
Of love it brings and gives, a boon.
It beats strong in some and none in few.
The heart spies gold, an ugly thing,
It twists the heart, makes it yearn for greed.
A life of opulence and living like a king
What once a want is now a need.
The heart turns black, an inescapable void,
Seeing nothing joyful takes its toll.
Darkness consumes, engulfs, swallows heart whole,
Heart rebels against the head and soul.
The heart feels an icy grip around it
Winter doesn’t last forever
But where black is hate, white is death
The heart beat’s tune now never.
The heart joins the stars at night
To wish upon, to weep over, to hope
That bright one there is the heart
Loved, consumed, rebelled and dead.(This poem written from ideas inspired by the senses exercise, using three words to describe certain things (heart, gold, black, winter, stars).)St Patrick’s
Tall, white and majestic,
It towers above all.
Standing out like a jewel
On the crown of Her Majesty.
Like a white gothic thumb,
That sticks out sore and pale.
Bare trees and dead street,
Bow and kneel before
The cathedral in its splendour.
Looking cold, imposing, too big,
While wooden house shrinks,
Like a pauper,
In a rich man’s shadow.(Poem inspired by photograph of St Patrick’s Cathedral, in Palmerston North.)( Domestic GoddessCollapse )( Flying Deaf ZombieCollapse )( Five HaikuCollapse )( Incessant WeightCollapse )