just a point man in the ocean holding a piece of rope which starts at one point on the shore, arcs out towards the black island...

the poet told us there was a beach but a hurricane came and swallowed it up there was also a nation of people but a New Zealand sp...

From my balcony I can read a strong poem that the moon has pasted on the river. Everything is quiet. Now and then, a wave breaks the mes...

It is to do with trees: being       amongst trees. It is to do with tree-ferns: mamaku, ponga, wheki. Shelter under here is so easily ...

high tension you will contrive to play with us bends over, to fix on one point a pantomime character got toasted in the sun          ...

The trail is damp so she gathers up the hem of her habit and scolds her own impatience as she steps over roots as thick as a boy’s wrist....

These things I must steel myself against Old men packing books into boxes The empty seat between people at the movies The smell of armpit...

Hotel Emergencies Thanks to  The Poetry Archive  for the recording. Editor: Mary McCallum The fire alarm sound: is given as a howling ...

A dude rocks a slick green dress once, for kicks, & the whole gender paradigm has to shift? Come on. Haven’t you seen the women g...

This is the last 2 a.m. song fit for poling a johnboat through the swamp so we may glide, quiet enough, to catch frogs with our hands. I...

Editor: Orchid Tierney Terry Moyle is a vector artist and a top-notch experimental poet. His debut book,  Cominghomeland (Auckla...

To celebrate the upcoming National Poetry Day in New Zealand, Tuesday Poem is presenting a poem selected from each of the three Poetry fi...