pounamu:
an avocado ripened
to a smooth, chill
contemplation.
that hei matau
--lucky for some--
hooked onto the
whiteness of an eye.
those ridges contain
histories, and the
blemishes speak
of all.
double koru,
looped with a curve
like a ballet-dancer’s foot
or a dolphin’s tail with
that bond that cannot be
undone. but is it
kōpūrau or matarua?
finally the wairori of
two paths, like a
strand without bases,
continuing for
an unrealized infinity.
the stillness beckons,
showing reflections
of the remote.
pounamu:
the warrior and
the peacemaker
fused a rocky religion.
Huka Falls
Waikato invites
the wanderer
to wonder
after Oruanui’s
majestic
outpour.
Hukanui.
turbulence
climbs the narrow gorge,
the dense foam
shifts,
slides,
pulling and pushing
through the acid
volcanic
rock.
i stand
on the bridge,
looking down,
taking in
the sublime
magnitude of that
milky blue
stain.
Huka Falls.
nature’s beauty
made into
tour bus fare.
it has taken
one day
and a half
for us to
get to this point.
via Aratiatia
after the yellow
belch of Rotorua.
and here
the black war
looms.
the hostile
treads through my
head and
i hear its
roar.
the wanderer
to wonder
after Oruanui’s
majestic
outpour.
Hukanui.
turbulence
climbs the narrow gorge,
the dense foam
shifts,
slides,
pulling and pushing
through the acid
volcanic
rock.
i stand
on the bridge,
looking down,
taking in
the sublime
magnitude of that
milky blue
stain.
Huka Falls.
nature’s beauty
made into
tour bus fare.
it has taken
one day
and a half
for us to
get to this point.
via Aratiatia
after the yellow
belch of Rotorua.
and here
the black war
looms.
the hostile
treads through my
head and
i hear its
roar.
hawai'i
hawai'i
naked creatures drawing in the black
buoyant and green turtles
the long windy highway.
hallucinations at the top of mauna kea
angels demons cloud your vision
whilst rays open eyes.
pink, purple, blue fly by
hard lava flow rock
another crater in history.
red hot sticky passion
playing in the waves of the ocean
papaya brunch, itchs tea.
faint stars but bright planets
heaps of aloha to cleanse the soul
enough warmth soothes spirits.
naked creatures drawing in the black
buoyant and green turtles
the long windy highway.
hallucinations at the top of mauna kea
angels demons cloud your vision
whilst rays open eyes.
pink, purple, blue fly by
hard lava flow rock
another crater in history.
red hot sticky passion
playing in the waves of the ocean
papaya brunch, itchs tea.
faint stars but bright planets
heaps of aloha to cleanse the soul
enough warmth soothes spirits.
cape reinga
cape reinga
trying to cast the spirits away
but nothing’s left.
his sad old spirit stayed where it was
a continuation of the memories
a continuation of the ghosts
a continuation of the remembering.
journeyed against time, against wind.
pushed to the edge of the edge
and for what?
for an empty promise never resolved.
the winds pushed them, held them on the cape
trying so hard to fly away, leave this world behind,
but the gripping hands held them back.
after fighting to get to the ends of the earth.
the ends of existence,
the rock face wouldn’t let them be.
paralysed feet, they held onto that hard rock,
unable to move, unable to speak.
she looked up to the white sky, searching for God,
clinging onto a hope that she wasn’t sure remained.
searching around I found emptiness.
the dirt roads carried them to our goal.
with a vehicle soon to wither and depart,
with the good mood, it withered and departed,
with the wish to live, it withered; departed.
like the spirits cast from the tree at reinga -
might love rise up and leave us in the dead of the night?
trying to cast the spirits away
but nothing’s left.
his sad old spirit stayed where it was
a continuation of the memories
a continuation of the ghosts
a continuation of the remembering.
journeyed against time, against wind.
pushed to the edge of the edge
and for what?
for an empty promise never resolved.
the winds pushed them, held them on the cape
trying so hard to fly away, leave this world behind,
but the gripping hands held them back.
after fighting to get to the ends of the earth.
the ends of existence,
the rock face wouldn’t let them be.
paralysed feet, they held onto that hard rock,
unable to move, unable to speak.
she looked up to the white sky, searching for God,
clinging onto a hope that she wasn’t sure remained.
searching around I found emptiness.
the dirt roads carried them to our goal.
with a vehicle soon to wither and depart,
with the good mood, it withered and departed,
with the wish to live, it withered; departed.
like the spirits cast from the tree at reinga -
might love rise up and leave us in the dead of the night?
the island by the city
away from soulless city searching
on landing shore empty shells
create wonder to wandering eyes
before tongariro walking on volcanic crunch
before the bitter limerock of priest spa
before sulphuric ochre whispers past
the native is trapped on domain drive.
we visited twice the suffocated marae
he taonga Maori and performers “experience”.
cement meant to soar by westward eyes
sweat and work creating falseness
a world reduced to pleasing visiting crowds.
we seek the spiritual taha wairua
even though we do not know it yet.
me and he we tred lightly from the boat
leaves brush our legs; soft rustling greens
unencountered I stop to
smell,
touch,
taste
the sweetness of waiheke
as breeze passes upward laughing
making peace with the world; pleasure
surroundings finally greet us as pepper
and glassy berries tingle touching lips.
sitting down watching pastoral meets local
-- glocal --
leaves of the vine
thousands of lives
and the aquamarine circles us
as the wind flag pauses and sways
channelling hope, accepting the past.
together you teach of aotearoa
the beat ships onto the island by the
city
on landing shore empty shells
create wonder to wandering eyes
before tongariro walking on volcanic crunch
before the bitter limerock of priest spa
before sulphuric ochre whispers past
the native is trapped on domain drive.
we visited twice the suffocated marae
he taonga Maori and performers “experience”.
cement meant to soar by westward eyes
sweat and work creating falseness
a world reduced to pleasing visiting crowds.
we seek the spiritual taha wairua
even though we do not know it yet.
me and he we tred lightly from the boat
leaves brush our legs; soft rustling greens
unencountered I stop to
smell,
touch,
taste
the sweetness of waiheke
as breeze passes upward laughing
making peace with the world; pleasure
surroundings finally greet us as pepper
and glassy berries tingle touching lips.
sitting down watching pastoral meets local
-- glocal --
leaves of the vine
thousands of lives
and the aquamarine circles us
as the wind flag pauses and sways
channelling hope, accepting the past.
together you teach of aotearoa
the beat ships onto the island by the
city
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