THIS LAKE.
A ray of light,
Bounds off this lake,
It pierces my eyes,
A sorrowful fate.
I shoot tears back,
In the most hopeless of states.
Why am I here?
She said we're on a break.
Drove me to drive,
To this ache of a lake,
Where every ripple reminds me,
Of the curls in her hair...
It all began last night,
With a crash and roar.
A desperate begger,
Lay down on the floor.
With tears in her eyes,
She couldn't take much more.
Every damn ripple reminds me
Of the curls in her hair...
A POSSUM LAY DYING...
A possum lay dying,
On an old road,
Run down by a truck.
A truck called Grief.
Imprisoned, pierced,
On the old road.
A possum lay dying,
On the old road.
Exiled by this truck,
Abandoned by a gutting machine.
Reduced to nothing but a dirty carpet,
On an even dirtier road.
A possum lay dying
on an old road.
Whilst I too lay dying,
On the very same old road.
LET THE BLOOD SPILL FORTH.
You I look upon,
Complexion and worry.
You look me in the eye,
And you say, "I'm sorry."
Your laughter lights up,
My lord, fingertips,
There's no disguise,
I see it all, your lips.
Like a tiger, proud,
But too afraid to kill,
You look me in the eye
And say, "I'm sorry still."
I beg you now, again,
Let the blood spill forth...
Give me something to see,
For all my love is worth.
For you, of the keen eye,
Our rivers intertwine,
Not only is it yours,
But half, I spy, is mine.
THE GIFT
"I will show you fear in a handful of dust",
Even though life grows through, ground,
He said the tree is dead.
The tree is dead! The tree is dead!
Don't worry - shelter under my arms,
Oh wait! We're alive!
Don't worry - they are too,
Up and down? But all around.
And while they sigh, we mourn.
What's the book say?
"Remain in life or existence".
But when a gush of dust blows by,
I can hear them!
"Strand of grass, creaking brook"
They say,
"Lightning, fire, breeze"
They chorus,
"Up, down and all around!"
They insist!
And let me tell you, that,
The frost is just a gift;
All those that wish to be cold and beautiful,
Nothing more, yet subtle still.
As to not alarm the faint of heart,
Or make the dogs bark.
But you will see as you dance with the beat
And because my dogs love you.
So if your eyes do moisten,
Or if the masses blow out,
The candle, with the opium smoke.
Remember the creaking brook,
And the frosty, whispering wind.
Then go and play with the dust.
SO THERE I STOOD.
So there I stood,
The land of the re-living.
Fearful to be sure,
Yet one was never alone in a place such as this.
A cock peasant stood alone, together
With me. Vibrant.
Colours; red and gold, sun like,
As one fades behind us.
There I was,
Upon the borders of mangled bush,
Bush of the Moriori, the Maori, the Pakeha, as one.
Only a place such as this would a cock peasant, and I,
Venture, alone but together. Never were there, once,
Racial boundries.
