Auckland Poetry

The Transitory

I swam across a field,
an ocean of chlorophyll
time stopped,
so did I; looked back, lost faith
and sank into greenness
that took my breath away.
Fear helped me up to the surface
and I swam to the lane,
dried myself on thistles that
burned my skin dry,
sat under an olive tree,
waited for my youth to join me;
it didn’t make it
and I lamented the passing
of eternity.

Offspring of Sedition

In narrow streets between factories that had
never been adorned by paint, as out of grey
walls they came silent children of a different
and darker world.

Don’t speak to them my brother said they are
foreigners and enemies of the country, a by
product of a lost army and treasonous women
who are forever outcasts.

Where the street widened to a square, near
The clear blue, unpolluted sea, there was
sunlight and the unspeakable children slunk
back into damp walls and not seen again.

The Iris

In my garden I saw the biggest rainbow ever seen
and it had a shadow too, I bathed in its glare, and
was the original multi coloured raincoat man.
Dug with my bare hands to find the crock of gold,
a big diamond found gave it to my distant brother
for safe keeping, while I dug but found no more.
My brother fled to Rotterdam where he sold my gem
to men with beards and black suites, where it was
cut into pieces, each one worth the price of a statelet.
My brother lives in Swiss, he hate me because I’m
his bad consciences talks bad about me and send me
letters that oozes of bitter resentment. I don’t care
now that I live inside kaleidoscope, and wear a multi
coloured raincoat, I need not precious stones.