Gone to Kuranui (for June – toku tuahine)

 

a sun blazed hour

where your smile returned

idling, dawdling – such grace

along the sands at Paekakariki

where ancient sea smiled

and hills watched

how they shone sister

like these – as green as the sea

rosary beads

her mother, she said

had thought it proper

from her to me

my daughters mother

thank Christ – the gift you gave

and blessed be

the orphaned waif

small leaden feet – ungodly fate

the trembling mouth

too scared to speak

of things only she would know

off down the road

no earthly goods

nothing really (of which

to speak)

but duffle bag of shame

driven away, cast aside

flung to sodden curb

now left for dead

Kuranui angel – risen to fly

one teeming winter night

©Orion Foote, 2016

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Exile on Lame Street

an early morningtide

preamble – of sorts

where pebbles, damp

scrunch beneath these

leaded feet

that barely keep time

or so it seems, these days

but carry me on

hesitantly, onward

towards a reluctant bridge

(sometimes you dont need one)

or is it a coda – al segno !

while a somnambulant Maitai

seeps forth a dirge

and languid waters

barely disguise

an ominous silent form

seems we’re all teetering

on a verge – razors edge

or flirting alongside

and I’ll wait, for things

to pass, as they do

kill the hours – hum drum

with empty mirth

or mild amusement

and remember to dance

oh the incisive snap !

over bubbling keys

but no, friend, no I don’t

‘don’t wanna walk, talk about Jesus’

just show me a golden twilight

©Orion Foote, 2016

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Wahine Shore

Ox blood, pounding – mad

Like fuming southerly gale

Nubile storm – keen


With sodden earthly tussock


Waka split, where Taniwha sang


Turned my flesh to bone


She, willing – churning guts

Her rolling limbs

Oh babbling tongue

Where nerve and steel

Held steady course

To cunt line – Andrew

The skin made new

As l rolled her

Over mighty torrents

Of a foul head wind

And somewhere – nowhere 

A red siren wailed

On a wild Poneke shore

©Orion Foote, 2016

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The Return

 

Thick plumes, rising
Where the wood pigeon weeps
Above scorched remains
Of pungent kai
Infused, smouldering
Smoked by charred earth
Dried seaweed, Kahawai
And Koura for belly
Rough hewn pots, simmering
Calmed after heated furore

While woven nets await
At waters edge
For dawns first glimmer
Oh the springtide will return
As promised, my daughter
Listen ! The waka taua is near
And your brother smiles, again
While the Morepork sits
Silently gloats, watching
Under a sleepless, beaming moon

©Orion Foote, 2016

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Lying in her long veils on the calm black water

Dreaming in her pallor of gold through splendid cities with fair hair;
pours burning love does he sink;
that by starlight! he sings and the woods sing!

In the wine of daylight the shivering willows.
– of her long blue hair, to love in the rose.
In a slumbering alder hemmed in by chimaeras.
– from violet forests: where the stars are sleeping.

Lying in her long veils, on the calm black water
into the deep ocean her great veils rising
the great dreaming swan but endless;

Into the ferocious tide rips, if there hurricane into the,
and a sweetmeat good of a flock of doves
trembled to feel, of silver waves

17/07/2010

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If My Words Were Water

If my words were water
You would drown in meaning
When I said “I love you”

The inner secret
That’s never born

Shifting sands of dreams
The zodiacs cross the planet
Each house moves same like
The way we cog and gear
Upon our shoulders we bear

The voice of your eyes
More blue than any ocean
Not even rain has any colour
As deep blue as your eyes

I would walk lucent
Wavering through any Forrest
With you at my side.

21 March 2014

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The Book

The paper curls
It’s edges drenched by sunlight
Certified chaos across the pages
Without the luxury of leaving
The pen strikes
Thoughts transcribed
An echo in such little space
Watched on from
The watchtower of repent
The stain of the pages
Strains the words
Cast across
To walk Main Street
An opaque dream.

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Hello Friend

 

Playing my old guitar ,
Old days like dead stars, falling apart
Memories hold me back, they’re trying to Steal my dreams away
I’ve never seen such a lonely heart, making my six string Rot and stale.

A broken guitar
Broken from inside and outside
I can hear the screams of pain that has stayed Of late.

Hello Friend,

you’re back again asking me what I have to say
Well Can you hear my six strings fade away
There was a time, it had a name, now it’s just broken it’s not the same.

Please don’t forget our time she said,
the time when we played and laughed away
the time when you kissed my soul, my name
for all to see who loved us just the same.

A broken guitar
Broken from inside and outside
I can hear the screams of pain that has stayed Of late.

Hello Friend,

you’re back again asking me what I have to say
Well Can you hear my six strings fade away,
There was a time, it had a name, now it’s just broken it’s not the same.

Oh I see,
you played with me played with my name
My soul feels tired, it wants to rest now
my heart is broken it needs to be fixed now
Just go away get the fuck away,
The time has come for you to go home now.
Just leave me in pain, let me be how I know I need to
I cannot be broken I am not my old six string.
Though I’ve lost my name, but soon I’ll find it.

A broken guitar
Broken from inside and outside
I can hear the screams of pain that has stayed Of late.

Hello Friend,

you’re back again asking me what I have to say
Well Can you hear my six strings fade away
There was a time, it had a name, now it’s just broken, has lost its name

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UNPICKING THE OLDER GIRL

Hands in my face,
disfiguring
the eye beds
figuring, I, me
and myself.

Losing now,
has everything
the child
had in
no defence,
and I am finding
all the extracts,
now
the laying lawn
has taken
in
my old
somebody
else.

The damage
coaster dips
to try, again
a chilly
abyss.

You all don’t get it,
YOU,
hanging out your net,
that
my fingers only
tickle at
my bloody biggest
stretch!

But, please forgive
my painfulness.

© A2Kdavis 2016

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Abeyance

nightsky

You gleaming like water evaporated by cause,
I blew the chalk dust from my hands,
Late on his deed it was done,
It became another clown prince dream,
For us time was a myth.

Under the street lights at night,
The fine arc of the distant moon mirrors my empty hands,
Hands that bled at the mention of your name,
The stars dazzle topaz memories of our youth,
I search the night sky longing for you.

To hear rainfall and jazz together,
Such fervent opinions of music,
An unanswered telephone rings in the distance,
Leaving behind traces of brilliance.

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