Cutlery

dreaming
of finger
tips

gentlescratchyhair

s l ow l y

s l o w l y
faster

sighs and murmurs
q...uivers
and shakes

    b     l
            i
      i     tt
          l
     g  e

spoon

I quite like the look of this one, with the fun layout.

Light Pollution

Light Pollution

The night sky is fuzzed
neon spilling everywhere

I know the stars are shining
but they’re all out of focus

I remember -
tucked into the Coromandel coast -
Waikawau Bay at midnight
far away from brassy brash
Auckland

the night sky was dark
everything sharp.

I could see you there
the only light we need is the moon

Fresh shiny year

I have been so terribly amiss in posting anything at all here. I really should get around to more poetry. And so here's something from a couple years ago.

this new year

I’m piebald
new skin growing
a shade lighter
hasn’t seen the sun
for many years

sometimes
it itches

and here's my 2010 edited version

this new year

I’m piebald

new skin
grown in

a shade lighter
hasn’t seen sun
for a few years

Thin
prone to burns

sometimes
it itches

as I tan.

Lover

I lack the art
of line and shadow

Your curves do not delineate
captive in my mind

And so to detail
your intertwinedness

I create a new
pictorial form

Real-life love

Deconstructing love

i.

The spoon fed storybook notion.

A bubble of soft-focus
soap opera,
satin skin, shining eyes
oil on the lens.

Gasps of undulating desire,
smouldering looks of passion;
'we are so in love' they say,
so in love and such
a perfect size 8.

Film my soap opera

actress.

Wax bubbles
on the duct-taped candle
in its holder
pragmatism
next to schmaltz

A sheen of sweat,
this is exercise
mirthful eyes
in sheer comedy
that the parts fit
loud groans,
queefs threaten belly laughter;

my body makes sure
I don't run away
with fairy-tale sentimentality.


ii.

Speak of love

When murmuring
sweet nothings

Realism muscles in

a frantic fanning
of the bed sheets,
distinct confirmation
you did indeed
have curry for dinner.

iii.

In Repose

lay your head on his chest
hear your name in his heart beat
move your cheek
from his itchy chest hair.

Hinerangi

Dedicated to the daughter of a dear friend of mine.

Hinerangi

i. brushed your
hair last night
after you
rescued
your kidnapped
brother

- out of the way
for your birthday

clever hine

ii. the thin strands
fine strands
of your hair
my hair
your mothers hair

slip

beneath the hair brush
catching occasionally
on minute tangles
travelled
piece by piece

by my fingers
my mother's fingers
your mother's fingers

iii. we plait

plait together
all the
strands
hands
lives
Hine


Note: Hine is a popular Maori girls name. It also translates (singular and plural) to girl.