Brooke Renwick Poems

Loneliness is a festering boil.

Say the fullness of my bones,
can be whittled and honed.
...

What little creatures
live in my garden?
Snails and locusts,
avail by my pardon.
...

Love is in the air and,
I want to watch your derriere,
swing as you walk to the
bedroom to get changed,
...

I dream in vivid color.
I dreamt of grim death.
The Reaper's henchmen,
were gathering the lame.
...

Thousands of megalitres
of silted tidal surge flow in / out
between the forested mountains
and the protected Bay of Islands.
...

My girlfriend is good to me!
Sometimes if I'm grumpy
She becomes all sulky.
I must learn to remain happy.
...

Romance binds you both.
Two vested interests.
Two partners motivated.
One evolving story.
...

Would you agree
that we,
[the poets]
have come to see
...

Quitting the puffer in my dreams,
but when I try my body screams.
Telling me to get some nicotine.
I have a blind spot so it seems.
...

Summer heat is beating me down to the ground,
its fierce radiation melting my skin all around.
Winter's chill isn't chilly from sunrise to sunset,
and I breathe in fresh air that feels clean as it gets.
...