Eyes that
haunt
even closed.
A presence
in
absence.
To be
there
and yet.
To appear
then
fall away.
All my
life
now.
A simple
cast
of then.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Back up the boohai.
Development, Government and the people in between. Young Mother's eating chips as their children idle away. Large cars and bull-bars, day glow jumpsuits on the men, hair dye and nike for the girls.
The street I rode my horse through now a western setting.
Not one smile for the paying intruder.
We are closed but we need your money, a dichotomy, my mana or yours?
The old gravel road is raked by logging trucks with drivers absent speedy eyes.
The Falls, now paved, wash over rocks that witness tour buses of the non swimming aged, where once children could frolic, a reverential hush for the kauri that held the skeleton of an abandoned gum tapping man.
They say he was left there to die, a jilted lover perhaps, a greedy mate more likely.
The new mines are mussel beds and cap in hand to the Governor or the Iwi and you may play the rich stakes game.
The pub has a casino too, pines for kauri, fools gold.
Everytime I return, I think of the hurt love, the caves of skulls, the stumps of hope, the holes of dreams and all those I knew here, gone or dead and the one remaining, my Father's age now, my Son mute beside me unable to comprehend why the logging company is Malay and the young children play in the pub car park.
That toddlers going to get run over. This town got run over years ago.
Boohai: awry; out of the way non-existant place. As in "up the boohai shooting pukeko's with a long-handled shovel": said in response to "Where are you going?", and meaning either "Mind your own business" or "I'm just wandering around". Or "up the boohai" (out of place; awry).
The street I rode my horse through now a western setting.
Not one smile for the paying intruder.
We are closed but we need your money, a dichotomy, my mana or yours?
The old gravel road is raked by logging trucks with drivers absent speedy eyes.
The Falls, now paved, wash over rocks that witness tour buses of the non swimming aged, where once children could frolic, a reverential hush for the kauri that held the skeleton of an abandoned gum tapping man.
They say he was left there to die, a jilted lover perhaps, a greedy mate more likely.
The new mines are mussel beds and cap in hand to the Governor or the Iwi and you may play the rich stakes game.
The pub has a casino too, pines for kauri, fools gold.
Everytime I return, I think of the hurt love, the caves of skulls, the stumps of hope, the holes of dreams and all those I knew here, gone or dead and the one remaining, my Father's age now, my Son mute beside me unable to comprehend why the logging company is Malay and the young children play in the pub car park.
That toddlers going to get run over. This town got run over years ago.
Boohai: awry; out of the way non-existant place. As in "up the boohai shooting pukeko's with a long-handled shovel": said in response to "Where are you going?", and meaning either "Mind your own business" or "I'm just wandering around". Or "up the boohai" (out of place; awry).
Linear.
Routines
fade
then go.
Unnoticed
they
return.
It is easy
to
forget.
Sometimes
hours
pass by.
Then a
jolt
backwards.
Time is
not
linear.
fade
then go.
Unnoticed
they
return.
It is easy
to
forget.
Sometimes
hours
pass by.
Then a
jolt
backwards.
Time is
not
linear.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Fear.
The silent
realm
is barred.
Waiting
within
the silence.
All words
are
meaningless.
Each one
masks
a face.
My other
name
disappears.
The river
runs
uncrossed.
realm
is barred.
Waiting
within
the silence.
All words
are
meaningless.
Each one
masks
a face.
My other
name
disappears.
The river
runs
uncrossed.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Emptiness.
Though all
things
pass.
And time
is
not real.
One constant
remains
within.
Unknown
to
all outside.
An ocean
filled
emptiness.
Nothing
can
hold.
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