But we never saw Te Wai Pounamu

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.

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.

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?

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