Doug Poole, Auckland NZ
Blue Moon
Sina awaits, she is crouched
amongst the gardenia;the aroma
hides the sweetness of her hands.
The Nono birds will not
come out disturbed. But gently coaxed.
The Fale is quiet; the family have spoken
and now sleeping. In the homestead
the kerosene lamps have fallen.
Father is sleeping.
'Edwina' a hushed forceful
inquiry. It is her own voice.
'Edwina!' she wakes herself.
'come we must flee Mary and
Vernon are waiting'
In Tuaoloa's garden Sina
has long since departed.
she has fed the Nono birds and
it is their leaving; Bellies full and
laughter quietened,
that has awoken the sprite.
You see Father is Matai, he has set curfew.
Who would dare break curfew, let
alone the word of a Matai.
Who? His very own daughter
Edwina, the tom boy.
Edwina, who with brother Fred stole
Fathers Chickens and cooked them up
in the coconut plantation, on an open fire;
Edwina, who would steal Fathers Horse
race him along the schoallen beach.
Yes, of course it is her, that breaks curfew.
'Haa- caught you Edwina, and I'm telling Father
you naughty girl!'
The ringing voice of the policeman,
older sister Maria, her conscience.
Yes she was in love, what could she do, she
must follow her will.
'Take your clothes, climb out the window, good, now run!
Mary is waiting, Vernon's in the gettaway , Hurry!'
'Don;t be afraid girl you are a Woman now'
For the war is still so faraway, and we have an act
to play, passion to explore, let's siva the night away.
Laughter permeates the gettaway car.
Driving as youth do;
Intentionally direct; no need to stop.
It is not where we're going,
but how fast we get there.
When at last we arrive, the heat from the fale
sways, calls and cries...
"SIVA! - "
Blue moon- you saw me standing alone-
without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own-
Copyright Doug Poole 2001
Moonlit Feast
sweet cabbage tree
have mercy on me
for in this moonlit hour
I devour your pith heart
share your secrets with morepork
and cast your pith heart
to the black eel
Sweet black eel
have pity on me
for in this torch-lit hour
I devour your soft flesh
share you between three
and cast your siliva skin
to the cabbage tree
wavered moonlight,
at my feet
sandstone and lichen
above my head
ponga frond and epiphyte
sweet creek take
hold of me, naked
for in this deathly hour partake
of my erotic warmth
let me hunger emersed
in your icy waters
sweet pith spoken
sweet flesh broken
Copyright Doug Poole 2001
Kath 'Benji Babe' Hayward-Nathan ; Pouto, Northland
She a Woman
She a Woman
with large shoulders
To hold the burden
She a Woman
with a body
to hold the heart
She a Woman
with eyes that change
like her mood
She a Wife
She a Mother
mostly;
She a Woman
Copyright Kath Hayward-Nathan 2001
Swing Kids
A wind that runs through funnels
finding a hole to escape
Pulling or pushing from one end
Like a rope or snake
What was there, is now gone
Replaced with nothingness
A heart with no blood
a shell broken from the
inside out
A warm liquid leaks
Drops fall to the ground
Leaving nothing but small
pieces of things once said
Spoken then forgotton Just
like it had never been said
Sit andPonder on what you
have seen, put it to paper
So others see what you have felt
See what you can see
Copyright Kath Hayward-Nathan 2001
Un-
What is it that makes you;
Un-willing
Un-responsive
Un-approachable
Unbecoming.
Copyright Kath Hayward-Nathan 2001
Sarah Reed ; Auckland NZ
Gethsemane
Be still the trembling hand upraised
to smite the saviors brow
one gaze upon his righteous face
will calm your fearful soul
come bring your maimed,
your torn;
come kneel before the manger worn
this child to save the world from sin
this lowly king ; a paupers throne
oh shadowed cross,
oh dying breath,
such shelter from eternal death
the masses huddled neath thy shade
would kiss the man of sorrows feet
His dusty sandals pilgrims made
his fathers face ; a son betrayed
so still your violent, darkened heart
the sword be laid to rest
come wash your sins till white as snow
His body torn
blood rivers flow
His unrequaited love confessed
How underserved this sinners friend
a rich mans tomb
a paupers son
thy wounded footsteps beckon men
My servant King.
Most holy One.
Copyright Sarah Reed 2001
Thomas Vincent ; Whangarei, Northland
Manu Wairua
"singing, do-do-do; do-do-do;
mama love come on to my side!"
My Brother
My Teacher
I have taken rivers from your oceans
'n' rain from your skies
turned sweet words 'n' music from your potions
dreamed in passionate emotions
good brother
give thanks
sweet brother
what you gave
cannot be taken away
I'll be here for you
steady rolling my blues machine,
strumming that eagle feathers wing
gonna sing-sing-sing
brother sweet brother how i love you so-
Strange beautiful
birds burn the sun
stand long
take freedom in hand
watch the sun rise
spirit bird
third stone from the sun
fly manu wairua fly
feather wings
rain down
lay down
let your soul flow
into the viens
of the earth below
Copyright Thomas Vincent 2001
Mannie Seafont ; Waiheke Island
Blessed are the young
Autumn showers, fading flowers
Shorter days Even longer nights
Are these sybolic of our aging
Our struggle to maintain our rights
Our voices too, once meant something
We helped build this place once loved
But now we are fiscal drags A burden
Our only hope, a place above
Our time will come, but not too quickly
Each new day, another test
I'm hurt to learn they think ill of us
After all, we tried our best
Why can't they see, their ice grows thinner
Their day will come They'll take our place
And once they pass their personal zenith
I pray they face it with good grace
Copyright Emanual Seafont 1999
Micheal "Canon" Neale, Auckland.
Dance for all time
My beautiful little Angel
with whom do you dance tonight
I still miss our dances
your smile and your life
Flossy we'll dance forever
just time for a quick step
this time
But when it's time to
Waltz little girl
it will be for all of time
to Hannah
Untitled 1
She is the beauty
She is the warmth
She is the sunset
She is the dawn
She is the greenest meadow
when springtimes life is new
She is the summer breeze
She is Autumns changing hue
She's the sound of the train in the distance
She's the warmth of the fire at night
She's the brightest star in the heavens
in darkness - she is the light
She's the dream the Poet searches
She's the song the songwriters write
She's the depth in the eyes of a Baby
She is my reminder of right.
Ross Leonard Jones
09/01/59 - 29/05/01
A beer and a smoke with a laugh and a joke
and a baseball game now and then
A wife and a son who brought so much fun
over and over again
Don't mess with me 'cos I'm happy and free
and my life's about having fun
I'll say what I think and do as I like
But I'll never hurt anyone
I will welcome all with open arms
and listen to whatever they say
But if I don't like it, I'll tell them to hike it
'cos that's just me and my way
Life's too short to sit and wait
There are so many things to be done
so thats what i'll do 'cos that's my way
and my life's about having fun.
Copyright Micheal Neale 2001
