LVX CREARE

(or) Verse, Organic and Inorganic
February 15, 2016

Only The Road To Paradise…

I’d assumed that the girl behind the counter of the rental car kiosk was being over theatrical when she’d sighed and mourned that my destination was ‘literally in the middle of nowhere’ As I drove down yet another empty country road, her embellishment seemed to become more and more factual.

It wasn’t that the drive was arduous, in fact I was compelled every so often to simply pause to take in the fresh air and natural beauty of this place. At one point I found myself standing in an icy cold stream beneath a canopy of green with sheer rock faces rising above my head, less than a minutes walk from the highway. The clear brook was welcome respite for my feet and I even went as far as to wash my face from the pool, the heat was so uncomfortable. I’d have never done that at home. The fear of disease and general proximity to nature seemed to have ebbed away here though.

If this was simply the road to Paradise then I couldn’t even to begin to imagine what the place itself was like.

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February 15, 2016

Excerpt From A Sad Account #2

The next morning, we walked to breakfast in silence. I made a joke, it didn’t work

“Two days alone together and we have nothing to say to each other” you said.

That broke my heart, I tried to keep calm, there was so much I wanted to say but what difference would it make?

I held back, you’d made up your mind already. Nothing I could say to change it

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February 14, 2016

Excerpt From A Draft

Calm Monday, still and mild for March
Respite from the summer heat
The scorching weeks before
That left the grass dry and golden
On the hills around the town

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February 13, 2016

Excerpt From A Sad Account

That night, while you slept soundly I could not. I got up and sat at the desk

Wrote you a letter on hotel letterhead, fool I was to use such strong words.

I’d written to you before, many letters we’d shared, many feelings and secrets

I didn’t want it to end, when I slipped back in to bed; your skin was so cold

You woke, and asked me was I ok? I lied and said I’d needed a glass of water.

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February 12, 2016

Obligatory Love Poem #1

 

I wrote this for Valentines day some years ago, I felt it at the time.

 

The sun is setting in the west
and weary heads are laid to rest
upon the pillows, between the sheets
the falling breath, the twin heart beats

the birds are roosting in the trees
across the lake, a cool, clear breeze
and in the darkness of the night
the arms entwined, the feeling right…

 

I know it’s early, but I’ve never had much to celebrate on February 14th.

I remain, however; a hopeless romantic.

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February 9, 2016

Jerusalem

Do you remember that time in our youth
when we climbed a grassy hill
which towered above us as children
but offered little resistance as boys

Our great crusade

Then when we sat upon the summit
gazing down upon the town
the outlines of houses and gardens below
so small and unassuming from there

The land of our fathers

I’ll always recall what you said to me then
fixed intently on each other
eyes meeting, the tacit agreement signed
the simple diplomacy of children

A covenant made

Later I thought of the great implications
true friendship, grand designs
rooted deep and true
naive to think that our world thought the same

Milk and honey

Now I think about that time, tones of memory
how would life have swept us up
if Decima had not intervened so early
I’d assumed our journey would lead us further

Pilgrims’ progress

Lives to some are facts and figures, numbers
only to those who do not suffer their loss
maybe we’d have climbed a different summit
seen it together, what we spoke of…

Jerusalem

The promised land

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February 9, 2016

REX • MORTVVS

In pallid sleep
‘neath silken shroud
in marble hall
in palace proud

There lies a man
of flesh and blood
of skin and bone
of righteous good

In mausoleum
grotto yearns
for denizen
the incense burns

In candle’s light
a crown on head
a silence now
the king is dead

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February 8, 2016

The Little One

The poem ‘To The Hills’ was written some years ago, after my Grandmother told us again about her experiences of the 1987 Edgcumbe Earthquake.

As a teacher, she responded to the violent shaking by calmly leading her class (along with her colleagues) in to the hills around the sleepy, sun drenched mill town of Kawearu. My Grandfather, the school Principal and St. John’s Ambulance organiser also went about selflessly looking after others before the needs of his own family.

The most striking and memorable thing for me about this, was the story of the family dog; who was left tethered to the base of a Silver Birch tree which grew (and still grows today) in the front yard of their home. She was such a loyal dog, and although I never knew her, or the setting; I can imagine how she fretted beneath that tree, worrying for her Mother and Father. The loyalty of animals in times of strife.

Although she survived for several more years, she was killed on the road outside that very home and my Grandmother lamented that she was the one who bore the task of picking her up and wrapping her for burial. Whenever we’ve passed that same tree, she recalls those two memories. This week again she mentioned the story and I’d fogotten that this poem was lying in a notebook somewhere.

Sentimental as it may be, I cannot help but think of that little dog and smile when I do.

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February 8, 2016

To The Hills

Where is your Mother, Little One?
Why has she left you here?
Tethered to this shady, silver tree
Does your Mother care?

She is with the smallest Children
Waiting in the safer heights
When the ground began to shake
Hurried there amidst the fright

Where is your Father, Little One?
Why has he left you here?
Bowl spilled, leash tangled
Water disappeared

He is watching over townsfolk
Serene and compassionate
When the thunder broke the silence
Thought of others first

Will they be back, Little One?
When the trembling stops?
Once the children home to dinner
After fervent panic drops?

They will always come back to me
Just as I come back to them
I am loyal, patient, waiting
They have never not returned

Where is your Mother, Little One?
Does she know you’re here?
Lying still upon the pavement
Does your Mother care?

She will call, then come to find me
Wrap me gently in her arms
Swaddle me in threadbare blanket
Place me there away from harm

And your Father, Little One?
When he comes to see?

He will sigh and fetch his tools
And lay me there so tenderly
Beneath the sturdy, steady branches
Of that shady, silver tree

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February 7, 2016

Sooner or Later…

“There is always a storm coming, sooner or later… You think it will skirt its way along the coast and never make land, those ominous clouds over churning seas of deep blue-green. The tension builds over days, you think it will never break. But it will. It will break”

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