Sunday, August 31, 2014

Eyes on for Late Nights

On Friday I walked with a friend to his flat in Mornington, then back to mine in North Dunedin. On the way back I took photos on my cellphone. They're not flash, but hopefully interesting.


Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Resplendent in Beauty

Birds Sing Their Songs to Him, Trees Lift Their Arms to Him.

Look at the trees, resplendent in beauty
Trees, complex in simplicity, fractal in mystery
Who were they made by, and who were they made for?
They were made by God.  They were made for God.

And look at the birds, who nest in the trees
The influences of feathers on the tips of the winds
The winds that take their songs to skies more beautiful still
Who were they made by, and who were they made for?
They were made by God.  They were made for God.

And look at you, most beautiful of them all
The unfathomable complexity, the passion and piety
Oh ardour, who were you made by, and who were you made for?...

You were made by God.  You were made for God.

Thursday, June 12, 2014

Real Analysis

Going Round in Imaginary Circles.

All waking hours burn
Out to sleeping in. 
Some days are real,
I can only listen, or
What should I say?
That I mostly do not know;
That I’d rather mind to change
- Some days are fake -
I’d rather not
Complex in oh so many ways,
The I fades in and out of days

Oh, and if you only knew
What I so simply understood
What I cannot yet describe
What I’d show you if I could!
Making the complicated plain,
Levelled so creation stood
Upon an orientate-able view –
Well, it would be just half as good

As the truth would, understood.

Wednesday, April 23, 2014

Not 100 things

My flatmates all started blogs and they way back posted a list of one hundred questions they then answered.  I thought to take some of the questions and "answer" them with other questions.

Nor Questions Nor Answers.

1: What is the story behind one of your scars? 
11: If you did not need the money what would you do for work?

12. "If you had an extra room in your house what would you use it for?"
38. "What is the largest crowd you have ever been in?"

55. "How do you manage stress?"
61: What poem do you have committed to memory?

81. "Where did you grow up?"
43: What small town would you like to live in? 

2: What do you "know now" that you wish you "knew then"?
13. "What was some good advice that your father gave you?"

36. "What motivates you to exercise?"
26 Who is there that makes you want to be a better person?

21: What do you feel strongly enough about to protest?
15: How would you explain love to somebody who had never heard of it before?

87. "What do you think the afterlife is like?"
93. "What do you believe will last forever?"

64. "What creeps you out?"
93. "What do you believe will last forever?"

84: When was the last you where caught in a lie?
83: What was the first book that made you cry? 

73. "Do you feel you have a purpose or calling in life?"

76: Who do you admire as a leader?
79: Do you believe in God?

46. "If you could ask one person one question and get a completely honest answer who would it be and what would you ask?"
1: What is the story behind one of your scars? 

The original posts and the questions can be found here and here

Camping Banter

     Camping banter.

the gas cooker hisses a low low light
the quiet of the night and glaring torch
the words and jokes and utensils we shared etc.
the look of a man who needed to blink
mosquitos making trails around the lamplight
we're just like them, really, we'd like to think
our actions circle the light, not of us pricking
until we draw blood, not of us poking a stick into the cooker
until it catches fire - it's amusing, it's annoying
when it burns your hand, you don't understand
the consuming force of fire,

the cooling flow of water.

Monday, December 30, 2013

Indeterminate seasons.

It is a Tuesday morning, New Years eve.  I'm sitting on a couch in my parents place with the laptop.  opposite me my brother plays guitar.  After three weeks of grey skies the sun has made a comeback tour, and everything it touches is uncomfortably hot.
I am ignoring the new year while I can.  Not because I find it frightening or foreboding.  Nor that I have anything wrong with celebrations over more or less arbitrary reasons.  I look forward to making new years resolutions that bear striking similarities to all the previous years' ones.  And I don't hold particular fondness for this passing year - there are large parts of it I am very glad to see put behind me.  I am ignoring the new year as I am not yet finished with the old.  I still need about a week or so of debrief to evaluate and analyse my performance.  I don't think I will get one.  I'll have to settle for a year shoved messily behind me, drawstrings hanging out.  The lessons I've learnt will have to be kept in my heart rather than bullet pointed in a yearly review and that's a bit of a pain - my heart's about as well arranged as my room usually is.  Finding those lessons isn't going to be easy.
Before tonight I'm going to have to turn around and face the new year.  Hopefully I'll have found some reckless optimism by then.  This blog may soon be repurposed, but for now here is another poem.

  Indeterminate seasons

Here come the months that last forever!
come November, come December!
January with your fair weather,
Forget that it's all we remember.
Forgot, thirty thousand afternoons grey,
stirring cups of tea, and if we say
we might or could, perhaps we may
do something, but we won't today

nor well into February.

Monday, October 21, 2013

A Haibun, part of the ENG217 stuff.

I've in retrospect learned that I'm probably butchering this form, and missed the point, (the lecturer spoke obliquely of how many people put these in their portfolio with mixed success) but I still like this one, and It taught me a lot about much shorter poems.

Wave Theory.

His hands still quiver long after the door has stopped swinging. It stacks up. From commuter lanes swirling to the catalogue flow of nature reserve sliced into suburbia,

The isolation
has a way of affecting