by tashmcgill | Jul 28, 2009 | New Zealand
Years ago, there was a poet who wrote his one-off pieces in fine black marker on the inside of used soymilk cartons and sold them. He signed all his works ‘Noodle*’.
I had some favourites – two of them have sat in my favourite things pile for some time – because of their rich images and the words that describe this land of my birth. So here they are for you.
Noodle disappeared. I’d like to know what happened to him.. or if anyone else collected his pieces the same way I did.
FLYING DREAMS
Simple days are dreaming
Relax there’s no more scheming
The now is all consuming
Once you’ve caught the flow
The city is a pool
To which the river eddies
A tributary to the larger stream
That will help you when you leave
And confusion is a drowning
Whereas floating is a keeping
You’re (sic) spirit will only surface
If you keep from breathing fear
So like the Tui is learning
The lesson is in letting
Go of expectation
And becoming one with air
MORNING DISHES
The Matakana Hills
Bowl around like any other
Dish of countryside
Sitting next to
The Sandspit Harbor jug
The Plate of Warkworth Manor
The Colander of Dome Valley
Set amongst the cutlery of
Roads and teaspoon tracks
I’m reminded of your kitchen
And the dishes in your sink
by tashmcgill | Jul 5, 2009 | New Zealand
This is a poem that speaks of the beauty of this land, the song of the tui.. which you can listen to here.
Song Of The Tui
Suppose, sweet eyes, you went into a distant country
Where these young islands are nothing but a word;
Suppose you never came back again by Terawhiti:
Would you remember and be faithful to your bird?
And when they boasted there of thrushes, larks and linnets,
Would you hold up a stubborn little hand,
And say: “Not so! I know a sweeter singer
Than any bird that cries across your land!”
Would you, remembering, tell them of the Tui?
Wild, wild and blinding in its wildest note.
They – they never heard him, swinging on a flax–flower,
Mad with the honey and the noon in his throat.
They say that in the old days stately rangatiras
Slit his tongue, and made him speak instead of sing;
We would rather see him shining and gold–dusted,
From a morning kowhai flinging wide the spring.
So, my little sweet eyes, if you go a–sailing
Out beyond Pencarrow, and come not again,
Hold unto the southlands in the pure October,
When the Tui’s sweetness ripples through the rain.
— Eileen Duggan
by tashmcgill | Jul 5, 2009 | forgiveness, Uncategorized
did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
for i loved you
you with all your older, wiser, always knowing better
condemning all my youthful, ideal hopes
convincing me that you were right
i subjugated all my life… for i loved you, i really loved you.
i thought that we could grow together, surely somewhere
there would be some moment where you saw me
you really saw me and believed
these things i knew and know are right… for I loved you, i really loved you.
i hoped we would be friends by now, you would’ve softened sooner
perhaps have learnt some grace for all your years
but i know that things are done forever
we can never be repaired.. although i loved you..
did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
oh, i loved you.
if one day you came to me contritely, not even pride
would hold me back I would embrace you – for I loved you –
and i have always acknowledged I was young and thereby foolhardy enough
to have something to learn but also teach you
i could have taught you so much – for i loved you –
enough to have the patience it took for all those years
to love you and to teach you
i wonder
do you remember anything I taught you
did you ever love me?
ever really love me?
oh, i loved you.
i loved you.
will you love me again, one day?
