"moa" poems
Across the blistered gibber plain where flies die in the sand
Through swamps of prickly sago where rotting death is planned,
To stride in windblown tussock hills where wind vanes carved their say
To saunter groves of green tree fern where moa giants did play.
In clearings cut with alkali, tusked elephant would loom
With crevassed hides, Methuselah, once aged in terms of doom.
Whilst high above the rocky crags of ancient mountain high,
The keening screech of kestral soaring up to deep blue sky.
Heavy boots in crusted sand where tiny lizards flee
Amidst the rust red rubble of volcanic rock and scree,
To clamber up the ignimbrite, great Vulcan's steps of stone,
Encrusted with thick epiphyte in lichen's mossy home.
Up into the altitude where dark cloud clusters here
And the threat of rolling thunder indicates that rain is near,
Torrential in it's downpour with sudden squall of gale
Surmounted, all quite suddenly, with a blinding blast of hail.
Staggering to shelter in a tiny alpine hut
To find hot coffee on the woodstove and a curvy, hot young ****
To find us frollicking together beneath a patterned patchwork quilt
Was quite beyond my imagination's comprehensions built?
And afterwards in slumber through the curtains of our room
I watched, in fascination, at a hanging, frozen moon
And wondered, in amazement, at the doings of the day
And speculated, sleepily, where tomorrow's prospects lay.
Blearily I stretch out from the covers, nicely warm
To nullify persistence of that alarm's intruding horn,
Yawning into morning I remove myself from bed
With panicked realisation....all dreams evacuate my head.
Vanished are the alpine hut, the dolly bird, the caves
The crash of rolling thunder and the plunge of mighty waves,
Gone are those phantoms which dwelt inside my mind
Devestatingly dismissed until re-dreamed another time.
M.
Pukehana Paradise
13 December 2014
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 10:09 PM UTC
Long taim mi sa mekim rong, gutpla tingting em i kamap. Em ikam na em i toktok wantem mi, na em i tok olsem, "Noken bisi long bihainim gris blong snek olsem ya, bihainim tok blong mi na bai yu inap".
Long nait, nek blo yu isave hamamasim mi. Na long moning, hanmak blong yu i woklo stiaim mi long ol gutpla gutpla rot igo long gutpla gutpla wara. Olgeta hevi i woklo lus.
Long taim mi pasim tingting stret long yu, orait mitupla ikam kamap pinis long maunten igo antap. Na antap blong em i antap moa winim ol klaut. Hau bai mi sakim tok blo yu o? Mi nonap, long wanem, tok blong yu i switpla tumas olsem hani i kapsait niupla tru long sait blong diwai. Bai mi hamamas moa yet na nomoa bihainim snek nem blong em, rong.
Apr 22, 2019
Apr 22, 2019 at 6:08 AM UTC
I've been stumbling for years
Without finding the part
the part that ignites my machine
I've been searchin' for something
that puts my engine in start
So I won't have to use gasoline
Is it something or someone
that has gentle hands
who will shift all my gears into go
'Til then I'll be lonesome
I have no strong bands
With people who tell me to do so
The streets I just walk
without intention or care
looking for stuff that is shining
Indifferent I look
As people badly fare
Looking for someone who's binding
But what can I tell you
I'm still laying in bed
Knowing that the day when I find it
That I cannot help it
When it sees only red
That I just can't rewind it
Jul 6, 2011
Jul 6, 2011 at 12:16 PM UTC
neither you
nor me
never knew
remained unseen
the day i found those words
i picked them put them in my pocket
the one that's been seamed to moa derma
punctuated into my soul
those words i will never let go
neither you
nor me
before you back
i may leave
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 7:41 AM UTC