Vaughan Rapatahana New Zealand/ Hong Kong
In Your Enigma - Ilinca Höpfner
Ko Te Atiawa o Poneke te iwi, engari ko Te Araroa te kainga. Also have a home in Pampanga, Philippines, where my wife is from.. Published extensively worldwide and a new poetry collection - Home, Away, Elsewhere - is due early 2011. Author of several poetry teaching resources in places like Hong Kong, Aotearoa and Brunei Darussalam, with a new bilingual poetry resource due in Aotearoa shortly also. Ph.D in Existential Literary Criticism and poetry editor of MAI Review Journal. Longlisted Proverse Prize in Literature, 2009.
God Defend New Zealand: English version only It had to have been the time - no other rationale jerks to mind. marching like a clockwork boy down Queen Street in rain spurts, spouting b ro ke n decibels against another war gifted us by avuncular fatboys from Texas and supersize surrounds. had to have been my own complacency snapping via rigged ballot of CMT, when you ran ‘round frigid fields feigning hatred for asian men 20 times more bankrupt than ourselves. another iwi boy stultified by bloviate bastards in beehive shitting us about democracy which we never actually had; kaore he kawanatanga tika ki taku whenua kei nga tangata titoi anake these bloated suits still wanking i n t o plastic jars bought for free at bellamys, as our cogent rage, fulminated, s e m p i t e r n a l. Aotearoa as autoclave abnegating its indigenes, obviating their seed, sterilizing history into bland glumps of school scrawl & more future dopey chants to God. Tin Yan blues o u t h e r e in T I n Y a n floor 21st the on up if blessed you might just spy the ghost that is Shenzhen skulking somewhere o v e r t h e r e. she douses noodles in Tabasco, layering like a bridal cake, spooning rice scatters into bogus bowls in dry doses under dead fans, tells me about her husband who shrugged off to that same spectral city - only glimpsed when the sky tilts & she is not so busy scouring gweilo floors free of spilled soy slurped by sleazebag spouses - ‘left me with the kids’ ‘seven years ago’ - I grasp her hybrid calque above the quiet moans & suppurating groans from d o w n the wizened hall; her cached eyes another social welfare cipher, each second a trove for fatal fall/ charcoal pall… one more synapse in the drear pulse drumming this maven of sorrow. Got the Tin Yan blues, baby got me so bad I can’t call got the Tin Yan blues, baby miracle I stay alive at all