DRAWN IN
A disturbed frenzy
the blink of an eye
fragile papery wings
a ghostly tickle
perhaps a signal
from the dead
a visible flight brushes
across my face.
I raise my hands to cover
my ears to block
the way back
into a childhood memory.
I quickly turn out
the flickering fluorescent
and make my escape from
the fluttering
darkness.
Avie.
Te Papa
Giant granite rising steeply
against the rapid clouds.
Bluff like walls
clearly define
evolving identity
over harbour and hills.
I think the great
classic painters
would have approved a
temporary residence next
to the Marae and Kaumatua.
Three entrance boulders
emptied from the raging river
of mud,snow and ice.
Textures of sky,
nature and heritage
can be seen through the Waharoa
the land and the people
Papatuanuku
(Earth Mother)
Avie..
MT. VICTORIA WELLINGTON.
Meandering paths
through stilted forest
fork into
labyrinths of
darkness and light
with glimpses of
city sprawl high
above the sirens.
Avie.
SMALL TALK
WITH GOD.
Not a blue word
was spoken in
the house of psalms
in the rooms where
your brilliant mind
works through the
restless night.
A circle of hands and
a blessing was said
I can't remember
the last time
I looked down and briefly closed my eyes
to something not there
at the dinner table.
Strangers
from a far continent
become friends
we listened to
stories from Africa.
Avie.
BUT WHAT ABOUT
THE PSYCHOPATHS
He travels to work
by train and bus
he walks through
the door with a smile
and patiently waits
inside a cupboard
full of chemicals and rags
he sits on a bucket and
reads the Koran.
Another man recently bereaved parks on the hill
he too waits patiently in
his car and reads a encyclopaedia about
guns and ammunition
with a large magnifying glass.
A lady with flaming red hair
sits on the steps she reads
a romantic novel to fill in
the time and the lonely void
in her life.
A Mother anxiously waits
for the cries she can
already hear
the time is 3'oclock
it is always raining
at 3'o'clock.
Obedient and bedraggled dogs are tethered
to fences
the children are
barking mad and
so is the janitor
who is full of high art
and homeless.
Thank God this isn't America.
Avie.
Our MAKARA
I wanted
to know
the origin of
where this tree
was first
anchored to
the earth
before it fell
into the ocean current
at the beginning
of the great voyage
into the laps of the Gods
the sun and moon.
When it was sculptured
from the rub
of land and sea
to the smooth driftwood
at this landing place
on the edge of
the shoreline.
Strikingly white as the
seagulls feather
amongst the kelp
the unsteady sea saw
horizontal tree climb
a bench seat
carved from the shell
our
children's laughter
skimming stones
across the silver dazzle.
Avie.
FIVE SENSES OF YOU.
I like the feel of the winter sun
on my skin
the aroma
of the early morning coffee
listening to the rain at night
tasting the wine and seeing you smile.
Sharing these things
with you
fills my glass
to the brim.
Avie.
SOMES ISLAND
I am close to
the window
with the winking eye
of the light house
high above the
white sail and
the hollow rock.
A short walk
along the track
to the white cross
at the urupa
on departure
I remove the tapu
with running water
while the children play
hide and seek in
the war bunkers
on top of
the unbroken hill.
Avie.
CATCHING UP
After the passion
they both lay there
smouldering
in the dark
until one
of them
reached over and
lit one up
on
social media.
Avie.
