Settlers I
The river
the river is larger than the sea
everywhere
its grains of sand
landscapes of friction
stones bidden
you can’t hold on to sand, rock and weed
choked in the bubbles of a new throat
the bend is where you lose it
keys, money, terms & conditions
all gone like death
the river triple-bypasses through the heartland
and the feet of the mountains,
guts the factory like change of trade
do you plunge for the hills,
pan gold before the stream
becomes a monster,
or escape with the compatriot
of one . . .
The mountain
with elevation
become the alpine
two species
mountain ringlets
ankle through grass
where frost licks
above rotting sedge
slither on mud
take sandwiches, a field glass
for far seeing
bring the ocean nearer
settler woman
“older is lucky”
says the Chinese woman
family, marriage -
the darkness comes in
its purpose
that we should not forget
imported
the space between
hemispheres
Settler II
Tawny
English hills
work out their curse
they haven’t got hot,
dirty or dusted . . .
are there no colours in New Zealand
no tapis, cloth
are you embarrassed?
for long?
the river opened
the land that’s lost
cleared out
made antique
bush or river
take and
lose form
one house alone harks
the binding tool
then piano redundant
tears in his eyes
the muscular grandfather
who loved his wife
‘memories of the blood' - Louisa Baker
caught in cells
from which
they do not wish
to escape
they are resident
unevicted
silent, forgotten
their conditions degrade
nonetheless they are free
to stagger under the sub-way
from the weight of fumes
to toss their hair on cliff-tops,
from sub-station walls . . .
there’s no interchange
no transfusion
blood will in
memories don’t know you
only themselves
you stop influencing them
if you do
they bleed backwards
closing the wound
adaptive
10 days of awe
before at-one-ment
Pass over
from slavery
ten plagues
& no bread -
a commandment
from circumstance
blood of the lamb
the Lord is one
the scroll
on the doorpost
the form
to take
