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Name: Dayvid Tauranga

country : New Zealand

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nzpoetsonline

For my writing i go by the name lorenz attractor. the name comes from a chaos theory penned by professor edward lorenz, and the simplist explanation that i can offer is that of a particle which appears to move chaotically and randomnly but is in fact obeying a deeper order, and after a substantial amount of time, a pattern emerges, and the pattern of the lorenz attractor is that of a butterfly. i began writing back in highschool as a suggested 'therapy' by one of my teachers. at first it was just a thing to do when i was feeling down and out, then gradually after time it became second nature, similar to that of breathing. i have always stated that if i did not write i would probably be locked up in some looney bin or worse. my writing is usually angry, melancholic, dark and depressing, on occasion almost genocidal, and i write alot about death. some see this as a morbid curiosity, but i disagree, as i see it as just the natural progression of life, and the last door to a strange new world. however, as with everyone, i have my moments of sunshine and serenity too, they just seem to be few and far between. the poets i look up too the most are james douglas morrison, william blake, and allen ginsberg. each of these poets have left some sort of imprint on my writing and on my life. my goal is to have a book published, and this goal consumes my everyday. whether or not this happens i am unsure, but i'm going to die trying.

This part was taken from a self essay i wrote ahile ago, felt appropriate to put it in here:

'in complexity do i find my greatest source of passion. often have i thirsted for a simple nature, to rise in the morning knowing the purpose for why i set an alarm clock to wake me with a sudden explosion of noise. however, if this were to be the case, i lose all that has meaning to me. complexity is the puzzle i strive to finish. i strive to put all the pieces together to see what the picture is. but once this is done, then i have no reason for living, for all the mystery shall be taken away, all the splendour of learning the greatest subject, one's own life, will be dulled into a mixture of dirt and cement, and then i shall have to sit the greatest of all examinations; death. but the complexity is a killing agent at the same time. not being able to grasp my function, i can never truly love myself.'

The Young Boy's Tale       

           I

Came here upon a blessing

Just to find an empty cup,

A useful provocation I found

To slowly drive me mad.

Truth and lies go hand in hand

As I looked on your dead face,

I haven't stopped shaking for the past three days

For you touched the deeper hell in me.

I'm wearing a garland of insanity

For in madness comes release,

A pretty picture perfect pain

You did bestow on me.

I can not eat or sleep or moralise,

How could love cut me off like this?

Death creeps in slowly with her eyes

And kills a longing lust.

Yet she touches my skin so softly,

Every breath a known one,

Just to draw me in, to lead me on

To a tragic wonderland.

Disaster he did smile

Once learned about the game,

She with faith corrupts the pain

And cheapen the blissful meaning.

I cried the tears of lost mortality

Even as I write down my soul,

From the fifth floor I believe that I could fly

Into my own private hell.

A god given gift that she was,

To the boy the devil raised,

But now I am forever lost

In a love that will never be.

Our last goodbye won't be repeated

For she knows me like herself,

How dare she perform such a magicians trick

Of making passion disappear.

And she sings to my mind so sweetly,

Every note a forceful one,

Just to make me stay, to lose the hate

Just to make her feel all right?

(Enter a newborn voice:)

"A Machiavellian melancholy overcomes

And I lie here waiting, watching.

For I'll bring nothing forever more

Upon the lives of whoever cross me.

I am the tyrant,

I am the sin,

I am what you wish to be,

For now I am imperfectly dead inside

Without her to end the dream."

          II

I am slowly changing

But is it for the better?

I do not know.

All these reasons

Coincide

With the challenge of the future,

But I just do not know.

Everything looks completed

So why am I this scared?

But still I do not know,

If I want to be part

Of a dying civilisation,

I do not know why,

I just do not know why.

Knowledge is commercial

But do I buy in lies?

I do not know.

All these people

Coincide

Without learning of the past,

But I do not know why.

Children sound like gunfire,

Being born to simply cease,

But still I do not know,

Why I should feel like

Scattered pieces of a puzzle,

I do not know why,

I just do not know why.

Pity is a boredom

But do they mirror me?

I do not know.

All these nightmares

Coincide

With this machines manual,

But I do not know how.

Vagabonds look happy,

Nestled in their minds abyss,

But still I do not know,

Who is the man behind,

This covenanted sodomy,

I do not know why,

I just do not know why.

I am now seeing

But can I bear to look?

I do not know.

All these questions

Coincide

With what the answer hides,

But I don’t wish to know.

It's just like on t.v,

The sun sets on the hero,

But I don’t need to know,

What gifts lie in store

Death minus nineteen years

Now I do know why,

Now I really do know why:

I want you now to stop me

Cause you kill it everyday,

Take my life, hold it dear

And break off tiny bits of me.

Caress them with a hate,

No time to quarrel or negate,

And turn your humble conscious off

And free me from these chains.

No words can cloud the historic truth

That I just need to die,

In simple prose bequeathed to you,

One last unfelt goodbye,

For you all are parasitic,

No longer am I your host,

Now fade away,

To someplace else,

So I can start again.

          III

Inside I'm sinking,

(Boy.)

Into a deeper sea,

With puppetry and grand ol' deeds,

(Do as you please.)

I craft a wooden Exodus to

Escape the coming onslaught of,

(But before you go,)

The wrath of Hinenuitepo.

(Don’t live behind the shame.)

A fighter I must learn to be

(A life in guilt does cause much pain,)

In freedom I do find my name

(The shadows are false sanctuary.)

This warm sensation

That I've never felt before,

(And the devil is not your friend)

Would make me kill for one moment more

(Though he is very persuasive.)

Does one construct

(Your memories)

By stealing a piece

(Of somebody else.)

I'll wait to see

(Who truly means nothing)

It's only you and me

(In this grand scheme of life,)

But I won't run away first

(As you so eloquently named it)

For it's all about the truth that

(Will slowly eat you away.)

I pity man

(I pity boy.)

I am a man

(I am a boy.)

           IV

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

My life is in a disarray

The mirror shows a mockery,

Unholy blood drips to the floor

As the war approaches slowly.

Trumpets flare and drummers drum

The sky was bleeding white,

Voices churn and chide and burn

And I laugh quietly to myself.

So come all ye crippled beggars

To the prison that I have dreamt,

It's almost here, it's almost done

(Two minutes until my reckoning).

Don’t cry baby Drip.

I will be there soon,

To hide you from the world Drip.

You feel your sinking in.

Inject me in your body Drip.

And we'll clear the skeletons,

I, sweet death, dost beckon you, Drip.

Come to me,

My one.

Slipping between the soiled truth

That Picassos did once find,

Divine dimensions of the human soul

To lose ourselves within.

A liar, a fool and decadent

Gift wrapped to be alive,

A day or week is lost and gained

In torments unfolding plan.

So come all ye walking wounded

To the prison that is your friend,

It's almost here, it's almost done

(One minute until my reckoning).

Don't move baby Drip.

I can see you now,

Confined inside the very cage Drip.

Where the whole world does reside.

The angel I do see in you Drip.

Not for the whore you see,

I, sweet death, dost want you, Drip.

Come to me,

My one.

A pool of life gathers round my feet

And hands are broken on a slanted cross,

My makeshift martyrdom was never false,

I just spun the truth to suit myself.

A thorn by any other vicious name

Would compensate this shame I feel,

Upon a chair for the diseased

I bruise and scab but cannot heal.

So come all ye lost delinquents

To the prison we call home,

It's almost here, it's almost done

Don't fear baby Drip.

I have got you now,

Freed you from the war Drip.

You were so entangled in.

These arms shall never let you fall Drip.

Into the prison again

I, sweet death, dost hold you now, Dri...

(My reckoning has come).

          V

I walked through doors of righteousness

Made of, the kind of grace

That one only dreams of.

Into a holy vault we did confine our talk,

Of a lost little child

In a human wilderness

We spoke.

In a room where a whiteness is a standard

And, a poly-transversal dimensional spiritual

Is just simply

A way of life

For them.

He did entreat me to begin the talk and,

As I speak with a voice just discovered,

I smell the sweat of a beautiful vengeance

While the words crawled out my mouth.

As I stared at him

"Hey God,

How you doing?"

And I clench my fists a little tighter.

Seeing through his holiness, I said,

"Long time since words of ours have met."

But he did not reply.

And with one hand, he

Motioned me to come a little closer,

To a pointy reckoning.

And the closer I came

To my heavenly father

Who ran away

No remorse for who he was.

And like Poisoden's cruel

And cool revenge,

He did bestow on Odysseus,

The words did march like soldier ants

To carry my message of war.

"You promised to carry me

In times of weakness,

So why did I not feel

Your pristine grip around me?

Into the hands of the Devil

You did give me like a present,

To further complicate,

And completely abstract

An equation that does react,

In your superficial presence right now."

My Achilles heart did lust for wrath,

As this god became my Hector,

Locked into his eyes

My gaze was fixed,

And the words did riot out.

"In years that I have spent

One question lingered,

On my mind,

It burnt my tongue

And I did cry,

With a fiendish bitterness

You supplied.

Your voice did once sing lullaby's,

But now it cackles

Of holy shackles,

Crafted to fit my youthful neck

And designed to distort

And convex

And contort,

My newly reopened child third eye."

A Zephyr's breath

In my vocal cavity

Did speed my message

Of war

To the enemy,

While a spiteful courtesan

Danced in my head,

With faded ribbons of red,

Keeping her black flowing tresses

Of night black hair,

Attacking my wayward mind.

"You were asking me to,

Though I know not why,

Align my convictions to your ignoble crusade,

Where I would have to take part

In this undying cliché

And you said,

"It wouldn't really be all that bad,"

But demons still walk in shadows

Where they cannot be seen,

But felt,

By the one who believes that

He is truly free of

All instinctive chains of social mediocrity,

And your human condition

Is a complete work of fiction,

To make your little lambs suffer

So they will look up to you.

Forever I do take this oath

That I will choose

To survive

Under my own rules and laws abide

And never look up to you."

And I crumbled into

A lifeless heap on the ground

Where the periwinkles lived.

Raised my head to gaze on those eyes again

But instead,

I saw a shadow.

My father had run off again,

And he left me lying here.

      VI

Say goodnight to the moon my dear,

The clouds race past her pale face,

I am no more of what I was

Time shall wait for no one.

I made peace with myself tonight

And the riot inside would slowly die,

My tears a tribute to my strife

As they cascaded down my face.

I took this vessel past the pain,

Beyond the walls that I built up,

Unlocked the safe with answers plenty

And found the boy trapped within.

My mind will let me rest once more,

I've shut the floodgates so I won't drown,

Created by the words I write

My pen has stopped, my poem is done.

And you will see my anger

Blend into the shadows,

Tomorrow's rain will cease

And I will be right here.

Waiting for your misfortunes

To help you understand,

Why the roses in my garden

Will never grow again.

love me like a funeral

          I

love me like a funeral and i will love you in return

angelically. cross my heart and hope for death if this promise,

or you, i do spurn. please believe me,

i don't wish to take, but yearn to learn.

years. after so many years, have i thirst and dreamed the impossible dream;

what's over there, on the other side-what’s behind this wall made out of air

that is everywhere, everywhere that plastic eye's can see when the face,

cracked face,

of a porcelain doll is turned

north and south, east to west,

to heaven, and down to hell,

to mecca, to babylon, the garden of eden

alcatraz, the vatican, calgary hill.

insane asylums, kindergartens,

the flower beds of ghost town gardens,

the libraries unused, refugee camps selling food,

street corners breeding junkies and the utterly abused,

to eye's that are closed, to sleepy heads that awaken,

to the morning paper and the mirrored glance,

to the moonlight's glare, a young child's stare,

to the lover’s dance, to the despondent last longing trance.

it is there, it is there, it is there

and i despair.

where is my buddah, allah, jesus christ

and jehovah ,

to witness my plight?

where is my steve mcqueen,

to help my great escape?

where is my moses

to lead me in my flight

out of egypt

from the pharaoh’s whip?

where is my orpheus with his broken neck

so he can’t look back?

where is my nostradamus with prophecies of when

this all will end?

      where is my teacher,

       where is my voice of reason?

          II

she swears she is a born again virgin

for tonight, she swears every time

is her first. she swears no priest is needed

for confession, she swears

not one hail mary will be heard.

she has skin made of mini skirts delight and revealing

shirts, she dresses her legs in fish net stockings,

she cakes

her make up on like wet cement, she is

stagnant cheap perfume stench

that you can taste when she enters.

she is harlot eye’d , she has

blood red lips

from when she danced between the sheets

with another

but now hunger dried. she is

a serpentine diva, lizard in thinking,

shed her skin for anyone, anytime

for a small price.

she will offer up her breast

and her body. she is comfort.

she is a righteous and beautiful

street corner angel

standing , and waiting, for you and me.

          III

i once drank from aphroditie’s cunt

and i got drunk and passed out for many moons.

as i lied, with my head rested on her gentle thigh

i let the world pass by

and in the dreams, they began playing a show

it was slow moving, silent, serene. the scene

was charcoal pink clouds, endless fields, grass as far

as the eye could see.

weeping willows on the edge of a dark blue lake

and a woman underneath pouring cups of tea for two.

she clapped her hands together

and the lights went out,

we made love in the dark for hours.

(dream is fading, fading, breathing quickening, the dream is disappearing)

NIGHTMARE

being pulled into her, can’t get out, can’t escape,

screaming, fuck, help, kicking, can’t get away

she’s smiling, laughing grinning, she is kissing me, wont let go

of me

love making turns to fucking, sexual disdain.

eyes are turning in my head and i see that aphrodite

stands above, it’s her turn

pulls me by the hair, some of it falls out

and creates snakes of medusa likening

and they’re coiling round my throat.

she’s raping me, she’s forcing me inside her

and i hear her moaning, groaning,

my skins ripping and bleeding

into her, she’s got

a piece of my soul

she’ll never give it back

to me.

clicking the heels of my red shoes desperately,

there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home,

there’s no place like, fuck what’s the use, i am no dorothy

there’s no place like the numb harrowing vault of lone solitary confinement

of one’s own heart,

aphrodite let me go

APHRODITE LET ME GO!

and she doe’s by killing me. and i awaken

alone in a room with no windows and doors,

and no one to turn to and cry upon their shoulder, no words

that i could share with a living soul.

          IV

(the noose is up. the end is nigh. kick the bucket. time to learn to die.)

puddles and men and women under umbrellas

rain drops making river veins down building windows

children laugh at the cats and dogs falling

in spain the airports have grounded all the planes.

hole in my shoe for ventilation

and the lack of money

walked briskly down a footpath, not knowing where to

bright light, the brightest id ever seen, stood under

a flashing neon sign

of a church.

she makes the motion of pulling a gun’s trigger

with her palm facing up.

come closer.

hi.

who are you?

street corner angel.

street corner who?

street corner angel, brightest of all of his lights.

oh.

what’s your pleasure baby?

street corner angel, what can you do for me?

i can set you free.

can you really?

sure come follow me.

we walked for many miles down back roads, across parks

through alley ways, down a highway

to a cheap motel room, down the desert road

can we talk, too tired to fuck.

she runs her fingers down the back of my legs, i fear

this could go somewhere.

what does it mean to love?

to love is to relinquish. she kisses me where it bleeds.

relinquish what?

she smirks and raises to her feet.

your not ready to come with me.

go with you where?

the other side.

where’s that?

to the other side of the wall.

what’s over there?

nothing at all.

i don’t believe you.

she grabbed her coat, bent over and kissed my eye.

before she left, groaned a sigh

to love is to die.

that’s all she said.

goodbye, street corner angel, goodbye.

          V

my death is not an angel

nor man of black drowned robes

with sickle in hand.

my death is not formless clouds

or a being of someone else’s being.

my death, is her, we pass her every day

and every night

she swears, drinks, and owns a gun,

my death is the little girl

with too much makeup and legs spread apart

pimping herself out to everyone.

           VI

she loved me like a funeral and i loved her in return

artificially. uncrossed my heart and died for hope of the promise,

and her, being spurned. she believes me, but shouldn’t,

for not only did i take, i learnt.

All works Copyrighted Dayvid Tauranga 2004