Trampoline

Trampoline 

We told ghost stories 

with static hair

somersault cries 

dares and dreams

beneath the starry sky

happy for hours

above the grassy night.

Flowers sprung up and down 

and the bouncing moon

climbed above the garden fence.

Avie.

The Roses

The Roses

Some walk past 

oblivious of the beauty

in bloom.

A few glance in passing 

though pleasant thoughts

 soon fade 

 and vanish.

 Those who stop to view

the roses

hold the key to

the hands of the clock

irrespective of the urgency 

time imposes.

Avie.

The Pink Dressing Gown

The Pink Dressing Gown 

If the knot were to loosen

your gown would drop to the floor,

and you would be naked

your scented breasts

soft still warm from the night

of dreams.

Coffee and croissant 

in-between

the dressed,

and the un-dressed time 

at the breakfast table.

This morning

there is no need to hurry my love

our children have outgrown us

let us stay inside and

listen to the rain.

Avie.

Hiraeth (Meaning Longing)

Hiraeth (meaning Longing)

Can I take a photograph 

for the time we are apart

to look at you 

in a melancholy way

after I have crossed the sky from 

a million miles away.

For I do not  belong 

in either land

I am restless from 

two distant places

a mirage of emotions occur 

from this time passing

my celtic identity 

is one of language

it nourishes my spirit

my heart is divided in two halves

though we walk

under the same sun.

Avie.

Making the world a friendly place

Making the world a friendly place 

with a mistaken identity

A funny thing happened 

today 

I saw somebody 

just like you 

driving a car

the same colour 

model and everything.

Except it wasn't you

instead I waved 

to a perfect stranger 

what's more 

they smiled and 

waved back.

Avie.

Day in the life of

Day in the life of

Can you help 

pick some flowers

for the children and 

bury a blackbird.

There's a dead rat outside 

can you hurry 

they are starting to poke 

it's eyes out with pencils.

Can you fix the door 

it's got a dent in it

there's blood on the carpet

and a pile of sick next door

they are screaming as 

they've just seen 

what he had for breakfast this morning.

There's a pair of furry bunny  ears  down the toilet.

The window is cracked and 

the toilets are flooded 

someone stuck toilet paper and

blocked up the sink.

The newly planted trees 

have been stripped bare 

the leaves are in a circle of stones

baking in the sun with mud pies.

Are  you able to rescue a pair of scissors out of the tree before it takes someone's eye out.

He's lost a brand new shoe on the roof today 

wait until his Mother finds out

she won't be happy.

Avie.

Chandos Street

Chandos Street

Fish and chip papers

abandoned down 

salt and vinegar pavements

wrapped around lamp posts

and the old ladies ankles.

Her shopping basket is full 

of cat food.

 She stops to talk under the maypole telegraph wires to the hop scotch 

children about the black cat and the 

dancing dragonfly

The old lady slowly walks up the street past the sweet shop two doors

down from No9 at half past eight and

three doors down from No96 at nine o'clock.

Half an hour passes in the street.

Looking down the terraced row 

gardens growing flowers and nettles

full of pride and full of children's cries.

Clay chimney pots bake in the sun

without fires and I spy a

black wing pirate above the starling eaves.

Passing strangers take curiosity glances through front parlour piano rooms  flamed aspidistra forests on marble fire places, dark rooms 

with lampshade bookshelves  in cosy corners.

The traffic moves up and down the 

street at irregular intervals familiar 

street cars some with warm bonnets

for cats come and go from territorial parking spaces.

Mrs. Evans is on her hands and knee's polishing the red doorstep full of exotic palms

pram wheels, hats and walking sticks.

By the time the yellow bus stops and moves away at the end of the street,the old lady is gone.

Avie.

Looking Back

Looking Back 

In this room 

of solitude and silence

there is a small window

it is so close to a red brick wall

it doesn't even catch the rain,

but I can see the colour of the sky

passed the cabbage tree, 

and hear the bird song.

If I stand really close

and  shut one eye

I can just see the ocean

and the silhouette shape of the headland through the shrubbery,

but instead 

I prefer to

look at the red brick wall

it reminds me of Chandos Street.

Avie.

Mower Man

Mower Man

The freshly cut scent 

from the long

 green 

leafed 

summer.

A reminiscent smell

lying down 

all 

lazy 

day 

long 

with nothing else 

better to do 

than say

she loves me 

she loves me not 

braiding daisy chain crowns,

and rolling in the grass.

The throttle accelerates the senses

engine oil 

smudges 

my blue jeans

igniting  a spark 

under

the green fiery sun.

Avie.

Paris

Let us dig trenches

to re-enact a horrific war

release the corrupted few

into the lost warrens of madness.

Give to the innocent by-stander

the whistle to signal

the fate of the assassin

 to climb

over the top.

Let the Mothers and Fathers not

grieve the sowing of bad seed 

the good ploughman will follow

to turn over 

the merciless furrow.

Avie.

Out Of The Doldrums

Out Of The The Doldrums

It is the silver sunlight 

I look out for 

rising up from 

the depths

where the black turns to blue and

the bubbles of life 

follow to the surface.

Avie.

Memories From A Caretakers Daughter

Memories From A Caretakers Daughter.

I remember not sleeping

waking up early.

Going to the school fair 

with my Father 

three hours early.

A bunch of silver keys

opened classrooms 

Full of Christmas.

Avie.

Hone Tuwhare

Hone Tuwhare 

Back then 

I remember you

sitting  there alone

leaning over a walking stick

outside the cafe on a

sweltering summer's 

afternoon in Hamilton Zoo.

If I had introduced myself 

I bet we'd have bantered 

about everything except poetry.

I wanted to say something honourable and profound to you,

but I have no doubt 

it would have come out all wrong

ridiculous and adoring.

Instead  I watched you from a far

It was a moment in time 

'under no ordinary sun.'

Avie.

A Sullen Sobriety

A Sullen Sobriety 

Can I share with you 

a drink of warm  beer 

in a dark corner full 

of fallen leaves 

and dry twigs.

Peer into the bottle with me

look into the confined glass dungeon

when we used to try and 

quench our thirst 

of despair and burden.

Now I will pour out 

the broken gardens 

with the left over

black milk 

onto the fire to

douse the fury.

Avie

Paranoia

Paranoia 

Behind the door

I hear footsteps in the night rain

eager to discover clues 

to validate catastrophic fears.

The movie is about to begin

It's a suspense thriller.

A dark shadow

approaches from

the other side

a lover

axe murderer 

a friend 

a psychopath 

adulterer 

a robber.

Not wanting to 

break the silence to 

risk disclosing my identity

I remain silent in the dangerous tension. 

The intrigue is killing me 

without  a trace of evidence

the footsteps fade 

down the steps

 into the distant darkness.

In the morning the place will be 

swarming with cops 

knocking on doors

asking for witnesses.

Eyes  wide open

In a night-long journey 

falling asleep 

could prove fatal

steering 

head-on into an oncoming dream

I choose to remain conscious with 

reality and the suspicious encounter 

full of a strange 

enigma.

Avie.

Take A Pew

If you ask the old man 

he will kindly give you 

plenty of his time 

deliver a sermon or two on the hill

about the botanical plant names

in both Latin and Maori.

He sits on the church pew 

 preaches  to the young 

how bees make honey 

amongst the 

irreplaceable 

stain glass 

colours of flowers.

The garden is his Cathedral 

the children his flock

the blackbird sings

to his psalms.

Avie..

Two Worlds Collide

Two Worlds Collide 

The human smells

of the unwashed 

unaware  that he

Is chanting 

And dancing

having a conversation with the hokey sticks.

People are uncomfortably staring

He is surrounded by 

children who find his 

unpredictable  clowning 

amusing.

He is content lost in his own mind

while the poet questions 

And writes in the 

the mad world.

Avie.

Nightmare

Nightmare

In the quiet inlet cove 

of the inner ear

I've  heard 

whispers of murderous 

 invention 

only accessible 

in dreams.

Water taxis flow in the narrow vascular arteries 

of the sub-conscious mind.

Once you have fallen asleep

they will take you across

drop you off 

on the other side

of the corruptible night

into the  deep fathoms 

of flooded cabins.

The temperature will rise

burn inside the eye sockets

of a  charcoal skull.

Behind the curtains of dark insecurities 

where fear resides in the chills of spines.

The night fright is about to take off

the wings are in control 

there is no pilot 

the movie is on auto-pilot

the isolation from reality

is  in the hands of the  radio control tower.

Somewhere in the story

 I'm  aware

of the sabotage

that is happening 

on the demons radar.

A midnight collision with the

silent scream

Is a restless jolt

of the awakening.

Avie.

Picton

Picton

In front

of the white steps

a cenotaph 

to honour 

the glorious dead.

The soldiers uniform 

dazzling white 

angelic in statue

a brave performance 

at the entrance way 

to peace perfect peace.

A German accent

minutes off the ferry

lights a cigarette 

the smoke lingers 

amongst the colourful poppies.

White sails silently approach 

we throw stones into the 

 clear jade waters 

skimming across

the deep green reflections 

of the sounds.

I am from the old country

remembering war films 

with my Father

they always ended well.

Avie..

Gardeners Mortality

Gardeners Mortality

How the hill tries 

to reclaim me 

when I'm not looking.

It moves the 

leaves and soil

stones and flax.

The weeds anchor down

with the worm.

I work against 

natures commanding force

it's untidiness gathers and settles creeps onto my path.

I rage against the hill

I will not  give in to the earth or

take for granted the change in the colours of the trees.

 My hands are blistered 

from the spade 

 I feel parched 

under the decay 

of the fallen tree.

I will dig my self out of here

before the rain slips  down 

the steep slide

and the quick season

swallows the sun..

Avie.

Rain

 Rain

The rain has its own language

it speaks to me through 

the sunlit curtains.

I listen to the melancholy sound 

on the tin roof

the lovers warm steady voice 

saying no need to 

go out today my love

let us stay in

with what we already know.

Whispers sink into the last minutes before sleep 

we pull up the quilt of dreams

and listen to

the eternal night fall

beneath the watery stars.

Avie..

Bus Stop

Bus Stop

Dark shadows 

waiting in the night city

for the no.1 

electric express.

It's the last one tonight 

Otherwise 

it's a long walk home.

Luminous expressions

shivering

waiting

flicking 

the touch screen

blowing smoke rings.

The cigarette glow

burns further down 

the deep inhale.

Behind the glass

in lights

a supermodel 

poses for Channel.

Avie..

A Life Of Song

A life of song

I have shared 

this piece of wood

charmed and played 

the endless mysteries.

Sang about the flowers

started and fought battles

after the rebel songs

flying fists across the bar.

You found my song on 

the pavement  

we bantered 

in smoking rooms 

scarpered down the 

after hours streets,

and pissed against the stars

singing 

'Whiskey in the jar,

and we choked back the

tears of laughter.

I've played with 

this piece of wood

for years 

breaking down

the barricades..

Avie..

Medusa

Light Tricks

Light Tricks

When the sun slants

through the trees

the wind drops 

in the silence of the woods.

The brittle leaves 

fall through 

the silver shafts

and blow

over the scurried darkness.

Medusa is coerced 

out of the clay dungeon of 

the hollow hill, and 

begins to dance 

In the rays of 

the sun.

Beneath the sway 

of the sky

the serpents tail rises

and dances to

the rhythms

of the song.

Avie..

Light Tricks

Exodus

Exodus

Who is going to tell

the poor refugee 

where to find

a sanctury in 

the political wastelands 

of human tragedy?

So the infant child

can learn  to swim 

under a safer sun,and not

drown in the Mediterranean Sea.

The best we can do 

is look on 

in disbelief 

at another 

Human grief

washed ashore

fleeing for their lives

from the barrel of the gun.

The desperate  faces fall

with their babies

on the cold steel 

rail tracks 

of Europe.

How far have we come

from warring against each other?

When children are thrown 

into desperate hands

onto railway wagons 

the young and old

learn to suffer the same

bleeding chapters from 

the bad blood of mankind

while the politicians 

drink bottled water at

breakfast tables.

They decide

the fate of

the poor refugee

who is prepared to die

for the ink mark

the colour of

the division sea

in a small book

to set his family free 

on a safe passage 

to the promised land

But as the clock ticks

with no answers and

the borders stay closed

another smuggler

reaps the profits

regardless 

of the tide 

of injustice

to Humanity.

Avie.

Exodus

I live in small 

angry 

rooms of love

without a fire escape 

for a fast exit.

Will they remember

the anguish 

when the hour glass 

has emptied 

their adolescent voices,

and the black crow 

ceases to watch over 

the moon.

They have already forgotten 

when  I had to dig deep 

and the third hand 

Silently aged me..

Avie.

Pencil

Pencil

Today I picked up

a worthless pencil off the ground

that a hundred or more feet walked over in the rain 

I treated it with respect 

gripped it with gentle hands.

I started to write your name 

looked  after it 

wasn't mean or unkind

Through my eyes

it already had 

the beginnings of

a love poem.

Avie..

Spring

Spring

Even In the darkest moments

before the morning light lifts 

the green stems.

The season is awakening 

I recognise the fragrant scent

of flowers

I know the rapturous rebirth of cheerful colour will soon be standing there,

and the sun will rise soon

through a catastrophic sky..

Avie..

Untitled

Untitled

For the lust of money 

they appear out of 

the woodwork in their droves,

and after the dollars have fallen out of the pockets of those 

who take home the trophies

They scuttle back into

their elaborate prisons

to adorn the mantles of wealth with the hunters horn

while the servitude lot 

barter with lose change 

to clean up the bones 

on the carcass of hardship 

and poverty..

Avie.

Rouge

Rouge 

I looked around the room

For anyone wearing the Crimson shade of lipstick 

to let them know 

I was blissfully unaware 

they had pursed their lips there

and I had swallowed 

from the exact glass 

kiss

that cast the smeared permanence 

on the quenched sunset.

Avie..

Death Of A Welsh Poet

Death Of A Welsh Poet

We didn't even know he was unwell

Thought he'd just stopped posting on Face Book.

He might as well have gone fifteen years ago

that's when we lost him.

He left us to move to New Zealand 

Sometimes he would return home for a visit

And just turn up on the door step like a resurrection of a friendly old ghost

a reacquaintance of old friends again

Down the pub.

So to hear of his sudden demise 

does  not leave us bereft, it just means the gap will be longer 

before we see him the next time..

Avie..