- from Tiger Country (2002)
- Poetry Weekend (28/3/98)
- Answers to Correspondence (11/3/99-10/3/01-26/10/01)
- On this day I complete my 36th year (6/11/98-21/3/2000)
- School (4/8/99)
- Late-Nite Movie at Wairau Park (10/1-19/9/98)
- Millennium Sermon (25/12/99-11/3/01)
- Signs & Portents (27/6, 29/3, 20/6, 13/7, 7/6 & 29/5-1/8/2000)
- Tron (6/4-17/5/01)
- Slave 4 U (15/11-9/12/01)
- Memories of Conan the Cimmerian (15/11-9/12/01)
- Corrugated Garage-doors in Gore St. (25/1-16/10/01)
- No-one gets on or off (12/2-18/5/01)
- Going In (9/11-9/12/01)
- Staying Out (9/11-9/12/01)
- Intoit (12/11-8/12/01)
- Subject: Urgent Assistance (7-9/9/02)
- E (27/4-17/5/01)
- Breast Cancer Doesn’t Just Affect Women (31/10-2/12/01)
- Last Night at the Party (29/6-19/10/01)
- Goodbye Love (10/1-22/3/01; 29/6/01; 9-11/9/01)
- A Photograph of the Poet (after Jorge Accamé) (4/2-13/2/2000)
- The Kitset Love Poem (8-20/3/2000)
- from Hybrid Art (2002):
- When Friendship Kills (1/8-26/8/2000)
- Disco Inferno (4/3/99-26/8/2000)
- SH1 near Taupiri (19/10/2000)
- vie littéraire (3/11/2000-29/3/01)
- Tanlaw (16/12-19/12/2000)
- from Messenger from Depth (2004):
- Anguttara Nikaya (for Olivia Macassey) (25/12/01)
- Invocation (27/12/01-19/4/02)
- Quiet Days in Cliché (for Olwyn Stewart) (24/11/01)
- Signs (15/1-25/5/02)
- South (2002):
- The Swimming-Pool Wedding (16-18/3/02)
- Twisted Pippie Café (17-18/3/02)
- South (17-19/3/02)
- The Inorganic Collection (1/5/02-1/3/04)
- Murder One (26/10-6/11/02)
- The Existential Dracula (12/1-9/3/03)
- Shock and Awe (24-26/3/03)
- Season of the remakes … (2-3/4/03)
- Towards Banks Peninsula (2003):
- The Summons (19/4-5/5/03)
- Searching for the Original (24/4-1/5/03)
- Hitler-Junge Quex (5-7/7/03)
- Death of a Computer (5-7/7/03)
- Where Will Massey Take You? (12-13/7/03)
- Bodily Rememberment (24/10-23/12/03)
- Six Days in Kuaotunu (12-26/12/03)
- Before Exodus – The Elders (after Karl Wolfskehl) (17-21/2/04)
- The All-Star Travelling Gameshow (4-14/3/04)
- Cinema of Unease (15/4-14/5/04)
- Reviewer (5-23/5/04)
- Speaking of … (24-26/5/04)
(2002)
the Buddha was a barbarian turd
– Zen master
- Tiger Country (21 & 28-29/3/02)
- Dumb (15/7/97-22/11/98-29/10/01)
- Civil War (30/1/01)
- Poetry Weekend (28/3/98)
- Answers to Correspondence (11/3/99-10/3/01-26/10/01)
- On this day I complete my 36th year (6/11/98-21/3/2000)
- School (4/8/99)
- Late-Nite Movie at Wairau Park (10/1-19/9/98)
- Millennium Sermon (25/12/99-11/3/01)
- Signs & Portents (27/6, 29/3, 20/6, 13/7, 7/6 & 29/5-1/8/2000)
- Tron (6/4-17/5/01)
- Slave 4 U (15/11-9/12/01)
- Disorder and Early Sorrow (26/6-22/10/01)
- Memories of Conan the Cimmerian (15/11-9/12/01)
- Corrugated Garage-doors in Gore St. (25/1-16/10/01)
- No-one gets on or off (12/2-18/5/01)
- Going In (9/11-9/12/01)
- Staying Out (9/11-9/12/01)
- Intoit (12/11-8/12/01)
- Subject: Urgent Assistance (7-9/9/02)
- E (27/4-17/5/01)
- Breast Cancer Doesn’t Just Affect Women (31/10-2/12/01)
- [your name here] (6-9/12/01)
- Last Night at the Party (29/6-19/10/01)
- Goodbye Love (10/1-22/3/01; 29/6/01; 9-11/9/01)
Publications:
- Gothic NZ: The Darker Side of Kiwi Culture. Ed. Misha Kavka, Jennifer Lawn & Mary Paul. ISBN 978 1 877372 23 0 (Dunedin: University of Otago Press, 2006): 68-79.
Notes:
- The title “Tiger Country” was suggested by the Joel Schumacher film Tigerland (2000), set in an American military training camp which is designed to be an exact copy – in terrain, climate, danger – of the Vietnam Colin Farrell and his buddies will soon be shipped off to. Madness and mayhem are (predictably) the result.
Portions of the film’s dialogue survive in part two of the poem “Tiger Country.”
When I first saw the film I’d just undergone a messy breakup, and was working at a Language School in central Auckland. As I walked every morning though the small park in Eden Crescent, at the top of Shortland Street, it seemed to me as if the city itself was standing in for something more real, as if the cracks in its façade were becoming ever more apparent.
I was also trying, at the time, to write a story inspired by the Mesopotamian myth of Ishtar and her descent to the underworld. There are two principal versions of the myth, one Akkadian, featuring Ishtar, and an older Sumerian version, featuring Inanna. In the overlaps I felt I could see the shape of a poem, a poem I tried to compose in the voice of one of my characters, a tormented adolescent girl. When it was finished, I realised it was less about her, and more about my own situation.
In general the poems seem designed less to paper over the cracks than to display them for our mortification.
I wish I could feel they’d been contradicted by subsequent events.
I Twenty-one essays marked, rump steak, fish fillets, chickens chopped Leaving for Tauranga the Holden shudders II Squeak of ball-points – dummy in bow-tie, tails bats plastic eyes Coffee aroma reminds us not to weaken III Blue singlet top – illegible pink name-card – smiles?
(28/3/98)
Publications:
- Eye Street Book: Poems by Jack Ross, Raewyn Alexander, Rosetta Allan, Ila Selwyn, Alice Hooton, Jacqueline Crompton Ottaway & Lee Dowrick. Edited by Raewyn Alexander. ISBN 978-0-473-20575-1. Auckland: Bright Communications, 2012. 7-14.
•
– Gordon Stables, M.D., C.M., R.N., author of Slumboy to Quarter-deck, &c.
(11/3/99-10/3/01-26/10/01)
Publications:
- For Dades on his birthday [pamphlet] (December 10, 2001)
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
•
PARK & RIDE Each car kicks up
a cloud of dust
Albert Park Daisies How are you, Miriam?
Sorry to hear it
Dust or sun-induced
hallucination?
Sign on a bus one tree I’ve never seen before
the times I’ve walked this way
The Holy Man or Eddie Murphy
BUT he missed the point
not loving someone else but everything
yourself included
girl in a black top bare midriff
walks by talking
smile A wheelchair, jostled
sideways
The dust spreads out in lines from exposed gravel
trekked in by a truck
daisies are white golden inside
each petal looks designed
or manufactured too smooth
to be quite real
car hits a wheelie bin P5 it’s parking five
beside the Student Union
clocks divide the hour
(6/11/98-21/3/2000)
•
Velcro – vinyl camel-hair / wet hair a tumbled salad of frost fresh (mardi) grass next weekend like a retro theme your mouth moulds “Sixties, seventies” so succinctly hold onto that blue bottle with both hands
(4/8/99)
Publications:
- Eye Street Book: Poems by Jack Ross, Raewyn Alexander, Rosetta Allan, Ila Selwyn, Alice Hooton, Jacqueline Crompton Ottaway & Lee Dowrick. Edited by Raewyn Alexander. ISBN 978-0-473-20575-1. Auckland: Bright Communications, 2012. 7-14.
•
Duck-circles
spider in a pond.
Sigourney Weaver.
“Guide-dogs
are welcome here.”
Shoom vryemyeni: din of, touch of
time …
Garden Magic, Farmer’s
frame a view
of motorway – cars weaving by like
smoke: they’re out of here.
Turn off the video to venture out.
Hey, hey – it’s Saturday!
The whole city
is here: At Denny’s
grazing, wearing skin-tight jeans,
bare midriffs, gleaming heads …
So much the snob,
big knob?
11.30?
As Arnie rapped out,
deadpan, “I’ll be back.”
(10/1-19/9/98)
•
Sounds of the city
outside
traffic dopplers by
Is this the moment
of forgiveness?
Symbols are important
catch your breath
the candles in
the cornices
exhale
Screech of brakes as
Hebrews sends to us
this son of man
a vision of your children
as you wanted them
We long for the resurrection of the dead
(25/12/99-11/3/01)
Publications:
- Eye Street Book: Poems by Jack Ross, Raewyn Alexander, Rosetta Allan, Ila Selwyn, Alice Hooton, Jacqueline Crompton Ottaway & Lee Dowrick. Edited by Raewyn Alexander. ISBN 978-0-473-20575-1. Auckland: Bright Communications, 2012. 7-14.
•
The bloody actor is less detestable than the cool, unfeeling historian
– Gibbon, Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (1776-88)
(27/6, 29/3, 20/6, 13/7, 7/6 & 29/5-1/8/2000)
Publications:
- Eye Street Book: Poems by Jack Ross, Raewyn Alexander, Rosetta Allan, Ila Selwyn, Alice Hooton, Jacqueline Crompton Ottaway & Lee Dowrick. Edited by Raewyn Alexander. ISBN 978-0-473-20575-1. Auckland: Bright Communications, 2012. 7-14.
•
We take bad animals and make them good
– Barking Mad
that moment, in the evening, when birds
infest the trees
beside the library
a single leaf
surprising
light turns red
man yawning – skinhead
light turns green
glass-fronted stars
green yellow red
educate your interior man
procedures performed
as day-surgery
everything’s surprising
to a dumb-as
(6/4-17/5/01)
Publications:
- "Featured Poet: 5 City Poems.” Auckland Poetry Website ((November 3, 2001) [Available at: http://www.aucklandpoetry.com/poems.htm]
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- Eye Street Book: Poems by Jack Ross, Raewyn Alexander, Rosetta Allan, Ila Selwyn, Alice Hooton, Jacqueline Crompton Ottaway & Lee Dowrick. Edited by Raewyn Alexander. ISBN 978-0-473-20575-1. Auckland: Bright Communications, 2012. 7-14.
•
(B. Spears)
Early detection
is your best protection
something about the shoulders
and the knees
Medieval: lacking
health until they bend
Confucian: love for family
and dog, my little dog
Myung-Sook: my duty as a wife
outweighs my duty as a mother
Massaging
grinning rictus
Thank you teacher
for your lesson
blood
erotic bond
(15/11-9/12/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- Eye Street Book: Poems by Jack Ross, Raewyn Alexander, Rosetta Allan, Ila Selwyn, Alice Hooton, Jacqueline Crompton Ottaway & Lee Dowrick. Edited by Raewyn Alexander. ISBN 978-0-473-20575-1. Auckland: Bright Communications, 2012. 7-14.
•
Death which would have skewered the barbarian like unto a worm …
if not for his steel-spring quickness!
– Roy Thomas / Barry Smith, “Rogues in the House”
Across the dark lands, the dark republic
of dreams, coming for you, running, running
RAY WHITE REAL ESTATE
on eager feet, tamped dry-earth roads,
irresistible, sure-footed, in the dark
SKITTLES SONS
with death in hand, with weapons,
weapons at the ready, keen, blood-thirsty
HOLIDAY SHOPPE
He comes, he comes, Brüder
the girl in the denim skirt
laughs at a fat man’s joke
as dawn arises, he is on the scent
(15/11-9/12/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- Tongue in Your Ear 7 (2003): [19].
- "Unpacking My Comics Library". The Imaginary Museum (9/4/2009)
•
(25/1-16/10/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
•
(after Neruda, “Fábula de la sirena y los borrachos”)
at that bus-stop – bus-stop
de las sirenas. Suits,
crisp jackets, hair soignée …
they don’t even trouble
to smile, just stand there: ser-
pent on the green.
Say one
did alight, what then? A
decade of perverse plea-
sures in a suburban
bed? clean-shaven, hot tub
ecstasy? chains, collar /
cellar, bones? or just a
slap?
Someday, sirens, I
shall climb down to join you,
leaving my wallet, brief-
case, loosening tie – des-
cend into your Latin
heaven …
Not today.
(12/2-18/5/01)
Publications:
- "Featured Poet: 5 City Poems.” Auckland Poetry Website ((November 3, 2001) [Available at: http://www.aucklandpoetry.com/poems.htm]
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
Notes:
- The reference is to Pablo Neruda's poem "Fable of the Mermaid and the Drunks," from the collection Estravagario (1958).
•
I was coming and screaming, when he called in Mark
– Hot Talk
Little geek is on the case
cars line up every morning
same time
suddenly
a queue
They don’t look angry
or sad just flushed, preoccupied
Dinner parties Oh so nice to see you
We must do this again
We won’t
Not never
Stumping round the Real Estate
outlets on their morning ramble
women in tracksuits
men in pressed white shorts
‘The Golden Years’ Let’s hear it
for the boy
life is what it seems
(9/11-9/12/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- Spin 44 (2002): 36.
•
For from my early reading of fairy tales and genii &c. &c.,
my mind had been habituated to the Vast ...
– S. T. Coleridge
I don’t know how to write it
Geopoetry This is life on the Shore
beach-blanket bingo
White sand Brown skin
sea We are the shopping
My mind habituated to the Vast
van flashing his headlights let me in
nurse walking to work
the ticket in the tangle
in my hands
Contending forces Is the solution
action? I’m still
here
herring-bone clouds
arch off a bell resounds
(9/11-9/12/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- Spin 44 (2002): 37.
•
Four of us: all ears
– Bus conversation
Into it
Get older people to accompany you
but make them dress up too
a tributary
ask them where to go
if you need help
refreshed
make sure that masks
can be breathed through
rapid
weapons are made of
soft material
deposit
“treats” are checked
before eating them
Christian can do six
always go in
covens, spooks or groups
too late?
(12/11-8/12/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
•
ATTN: I am Edward Mulete JR. the son of Mr. STEVE MBEKI MULETE from Zimbabwe. I am sorry this mail Will surprise you, though we do not know, my mother Mrs. Clara Got your contact through her private search. My father though black was the treasury Of the farmers association and a strong member of an Opposition party that did not support the president Idea. The will Documents has a certificate of deposit, confirming a deposit Kept in custody for us in a security company unknown. The total amount is US$21.5M. I have tried to reach my father’s close friend also a farmer who was Leaving in Zimbabwe with us but left with his family Late last year following this ugly development to no Avail. We have resolved to give you 20% Of the total sum upon confirmation of the fund in any Account of your choice were the incident of taxation Will not take much tool on the money and we look Forward to coming over to your country to invest our Share and settle there. I will a private Phone so that our conversation can be 100% confidential. Please do not use the reply button, reply only to * * * Please take note. God bless you indeed as you help yourself and us. Mr. EDWARD MULETE
(7-9/9/02)
Publications:
- brief 25 – trains at a glance (2002): 70.
•
practising your golf swing look out of the window roses grey concrete day does your uni form define you elsewhere party down perhaps or in an orchard I’d like to get reflections in a window out of curtains plains of cleavage lev els but the sun is going in
(27/4-17/5/01)
Publications:
- "Featured Poet: 5 City Poems.” Auckland Poetry Website ((November 3, 2001) [Available at: http://www.aucklandpoetry.com/poems.htm]
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
•
Eye counter eye the fulcrum of two faces
on a poster
rain-pocked screen ahead
or screen of trees dark pine trees
Were not, as ’twere, the merest mask of gloom,
But stretched away unto the edge of doom
Not that no pointing out the moral
archaising like a stepladder
eye
eye
nose nose
mouth
chin
Father and child both in denim
blue equals sincere
or else that ritual dance
Is there something on my heel?
curvet your body
Or greeting friend
knees crooked into the hollow
overbalance
the balance
of their lives has been disturbed
(31/10-2/12/01)
Publications:
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- "from Tiger Country." Gothic NZ: The Darker Side of Kiwi Culture. Ed. Misha Kavka, Jennifer Lawn & Mary Paul. ISBN-10 1 877372 23 4; ISBN-13 978 1 877372 23 0. Dunedin: University of Otago Press, 2006. 68-79.
Notes:
- Lines 5-6 are quoted from Robert Frost’s “Into My Own” (1913). In Collected Poems, Prose, & Plays, ed. Richard Poirier & Mark Richardson (New York: Library of America, 1995): 15.
•
The voice that unsettles me today must be prophetic.
I can be nothing but a writer
– Mikhail Bulgakov (6 November, 1923)
Dionysos – the desire to be possessed
Constant, repetitive motion can (we know) put one into a trance,
ready to be seized
by the voodoo gods: candomblé
A looseness takes the limbs
we shuffle backwards
Lord, these sweating bodies! Elliott
open to the sky outside the window / rain-dark
crescent moon the rainy street
black at its centre – Patrick, Idy, Wolf,
the Russian girl
in red/ hoisted to shoulders.
Spin until you fall
MANU SAMOA
They’re back, right here, the Baron …
They’re here, right back
Baron Samedi, lord of the cemetery
Would you like to get a coffee? Maybe
it’s too late …
the bull-ring – the canaries – mutiny
music as tinnitus
Each of us is made in turn to strut:
St Vitus’ Dance – a constant quiver
Are you all right? Want beer? Nah, water.
My heart is weighed against a feather – ma’at
Let me inside your kingdom, children, let me die inside
(29/6-19/10/01)
Publications:
- "Featured Poet: 5 City Poems.” Auckland Poetry Website ((November 3, 2001) [Available at: http://www.aucklandpoetry.com/poems.htm]
- City Poems: with Compliments of the Season [pamphlet] (December 16, 2001)
- The Aotearoa New Zealand Poetry Sound Archive. Compiled and edited by Jan Kemp and Jack Ross. Special Collections Dept, Auckland University Library, October 31, 2004.
- "from Tiger Country." Gothic NZ: The Darker Side of Kiwi Culture. Ed. Misha Kavka, Jennifer Lawn & Mary Paul. ISBN-10 1 877372 23 4; ISBN-13 978 1 877372 23 0. Dunedin: University of Otago Press, 2006. 68-79.
•
[based on the Akkadian / Sumerian “Ishtar / Inanna’s Descent to Hell”]
Ishtar
daughter of Sin
where are you going?
To the Land of no Return
Ereshkigal’s country
to the house none leaves who enters it
the road where there is no way back
the room whose tenants have no light
where dust is drink and clay is food
where darkness has replaced the day
where rust eats into door and bolt
to sit like a bird
with wings for clothes
•
Are you a member
of the dying race? We all are
aren’t we
unhealthy
not to see it through
unlucky
not to keep your health
unlikely
not to give a shit
Happiness needs no day-
pass sorrow
loves a friend
you and your grammar
Mr Tagata’s writing’s bad
at least he’s got his health
(until that fails)
at least he’s got his breath
•
She took the seven signs
put on her sandals
donned the Shugurra
the great crown
arranged the wig across her forehead
took the yardstick in her hands
hung lapis lazuli around her neck
clasped golden bracelets on both wrists
masked her eyes with inky kohl
cupped her breasts with oval gems
drew on the Pala
robe of sovereignty
•
Time for the cutting
to start he muttered
staring at the sky
One horn of plenty’s
never enough she chuckled
tugging at his dong
Later pizza-face
said Sunny Jim
the loner as he torched the school
•
When Inanna reached the Land of no Return
the gatekeeper came to let her in
as he made her enter the first gate
he stripped the crown from her head Walkman
Why do you take the crown from my head?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
as he made her enter the second gate
he stripped the pendants from her ears Dark glasses
Why do you take the pendants from my ears?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
as he made her enter the third gate
he stripped the chain from around her neck Gold cross
Why do you take the chain from around my neck?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
as he made her enter the fourth gate
he stripped the ornaments from her breast Tank-Top
Why do you take the ornaments from my breast?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
as he made her enter the fifth gate
he stripped the girdle from her hips Black Jeans
Why do you take the girdle from my hips?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
as he made her enter the sixth gate
he stripped the clasps from her hands and feet Watch-strap
Why do you take the clasps from my hands and feet?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
as he made her enter the seventh gate
he stripped the loincloth from her body G-string
Why do you take the loincloth from my body?
These are the orders of the Queen of the Dead
•
Naked Inanna dropped to her knees
as Ereshkigal mounted the throne
the Seven Judges discussed her case
they turned their eyes towards her
eyes of death
they passed sentence
on the accused
Release against Ishtar
the sixty miseries
misery of the eyes against her eyes
misery of the sides against her sides
misery of the heart against her heart
misery of the feet against her feet
misery of the head against her head
against her whole body
every part of her
They all cried out
She is accursed!
Inanna immediately slumped
down dead
her body was hung
on a spike
Since Ishtar went to hell
the bull won’t mount the cow
the ass won’t service the jenny
the man won’t love the virgin
the man lies in his own room
the virgin on her side
•
new blades of grass appear
I’m not the grass
I can’t come when she calls
tides ebb and flow for her
I’m not the water
I can’t swallow these tears
winds play around the house
the shepherd winds
I can’t knock at her door
strangers sleep in our bed
(10/1-22/3/01; 29/6/01; 9-11/9/01)
Publications:
- The Aotearoa New Zealand Poetry Sound Archive. Compiled and edited by Jan Kemp and Jack Ross. Special Collections Dept, Auckland University Library, October 31, 2004.
- "from Tiger Country." Gothic NZ: The Darker Side of Kiwi Culture. Ed. Misha Kavka, Jennifer Lawn & Mary Paul. ISBN-10 1 877372 23 4; ISBN-13 978 1 877372 23 0. Dunedin: University of Otago Press, 2006. 68-79.
Notes:
- The “Ishtar” and “Inanna” passages here are adapted (respectively) from N. K. Sandars, trans., Poems of Heaven and Hell from Ancient Mesopotamia (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1971) & James B. Pritchard, ed., The Ancient Near East: An Anthology of Texts and Pictures (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1971).
•
Jorge Accamé: Fotografía de poeta Es una mujer joven en la foto, detrás de Pessoa. Camina apurada sobre los adoquines, vuelve la cabeza. Me pregunto qué habrá sido de ella. Seguramente iba a la feria a comprar un poco de pescado, ignorando que la retrataron junto a él. Habrá muerto, o tal vez no. Tendrá nietos, jamás se habrá interesado en poesía y no sospechará que la he descubierto. Creo que Pessoa no la vio nunca / tampoco parece conocida de la señora mayor que surge al costado izquierdo del poeta, ni del hombre pensativo de más atrás. ¿Dónde fue la hermosa joven esa mañana? Acaso un automóvil la esperaba en una esquina para atropellarla. Sólo sé que es conmovedora esa imagen inútil capturada hace casi sesenta años, un organismo vivo perdido en alguna ciudad de Portugal, inconsciente de su propia presencia. Ni siquiera tendría un buen motivo para estar allí.There’s a girl behind Pessoa. Hurrying over the paving stones, she turns her head. I wonder what happened? No doubt she was off to market for a few bits of fish, not knowing she’d be snapped. She’ll be dead now. Maybe not. She’ll have grandchildren, never have cared about poetry and won’t suspect she’s been found out. I doubt Pessoa saw her coming, no friend to the looming woman on the poet’s left – and as for the thoughtful man further back…. Where did the girl end up that morning? Perhaps a car idling around the corner knocked her down. It worries me, this image from sixty years ago, a tricked-out self in a Portuguese town. What’s the good of being here? – translated with David Howard
(4/2-13/2/2000)
Publications:
- Spin 36 (2000): 6-7.
- Masthead 6 (2002/3). [Available at: http://au.geocities.com/masthead_2/temp/photo.html].
- David Howard & Fiona Pardington. How To Occupy Our Selves (Wellington: HeadworX, 2003): 39.
- David Howard. The Incomplete Poems (Governor's Bay, Lyttelton: Cold Hub Press, 2011): 106.
- Fernando Pessoa (2000). Papyri (5/10/18).
•
Comparing the beloved to a vole Occluded landscape reference The wooded hills of Mahurangi tier on tear on tear three yachts heel over slim girl in two-piece (blue) beer-gutted pals stroll down the beach
(8-20/3/2000)
Publications:
- Valley Micropress 8 (10) (2005): 17.
•
from Hybrid Art
(2002)
Find them
Kill them
Now
who took
the water
from our children
& if anyone should
ask I’m sitting
in a room the
lights outside
deflected onto
Hardy’s poems
waiting for the rain
(1/8-26/8/2000)
Publications:
- "from Hybrid Art." brief 24 – more formal than bull (2002): 41-44.
•
A good heart these days
is hard to find
– Feargal Sharkey
Us nice guys
suck at finishing last
Gonna open a can a whup-ass
on yo’ ass – pre-scribe a world
a hurt!
Seagulls
skim low to scavenge
scraps How can it feel
so good to stroke
your skin?
She dreams
of sleeping with a
friend (his wife went mad
the day after the
wedding
but he stuck
by her) … Q.E.D:
Okay, now, to fall
for a nice
guy
(4/3/99-26/8/2000)
Publications:
- "from Hybrid Art." brief 24 – more formal than bull (2002): 41-44.
•
Who put those
flowers there?
your mum?
The plastic prayer-wheel
rattling round & round?
The oldest have
borne most,
we that are young
shall never see the
wooden cross-
beam fall
(19/10/2000)
Publications:
- Spin 41 (2001): 49.
•
laborious labyrinthine paranoia when you suspect someone you’ve never met – p. f. porlock – of vetoing your part in an enterprise meaning nothing to you (suggested by a friend)
(3/11/2000-29/3/01)
Publications:
- "Shorts." Poetry NZ 40 (2010): 76-81.
•
Morning jogger taps his nose
the scaffolding appears
bust
mirror stolen
window wipers jemmied
lock mechanics
of disintegration
Now in Putaruru
the road is open
greenhammer flickers by
the trucks are gone
cars pass like feral dogs
nipping the herd
(16/12-19/12/2000)
Publications:
- Spin 41 (2001): 49.
There was once a simple but good-looking Chandāla maiden, and she formed in her heart the determination to win for her bridegroom a universal monarch.
Once on a time she saw the supreme sovereign go out to make a progress round his city, and she proceeded to follow him, with the intention of making him her husband. At that moment a hermit came that way, and the king, though mounted on an elephant, bowed at his feet, and returned to his own palace.
When she saw that, she thought that the hermit was a greater man even than the king, and abandoning him, she proceeded to follow the hermit. The hermit, as he was going along, beheld in front of him an empty temple of Šiva, and kneeling on the ground, he worshipped Šiva, and then departed.
Then the Chandāla maiden thought that Šiva was greater even than the hermit, and she left the hermit and attached herself to the god, with the intention of marrying him. Immediately a dog entered, and going up on to the pedestal of the idol, lifted up his leg, and behaved after the manner of the dog tribe.
Then the Chandāla maiden thought that the dog was superior even to Šiva, and leaving the god, followed the departing dog, desiring to marry him. And the dog entered the house of a Chandāla, and out of affection rolled at the feet of a young Chandāla whom it knew.
When she saw that, she concluded that the young Chandāla was superior to the dog, and satisfied with her own caste, she chose him as her husband.
The Ocean of Story: C. H. Tawney’s Translation of Somadeva’s Kathā Sarit Sāgara, ed. N. M. Penzer, 10 vols (1924) 5: 85-86.
(for Olivia Macassey)
Scorpio:
You will achieve your aims without assistance from others.
Although tackling several jobs at once, your intuition and
judgement will be impeccable.
– NZ Herald , 4th December 2001
•
Tuesday, 25th December 2001
BP International, Kowloon
Dearest Liv,
You’ve never been abroad in your life, so it’s hard to know
what might interest you here in Hong Kong.
The airport is like other airports: huge, antiseptic, impersonal
– a little frightening; the hotel like other hotels: two neat single
beds, a table between them – bathroom, closet. There are mirrors
everywhere: big ones. You can’t help but see yourself all the time:
Have I lost weight? If I miss a few more meals, will I be back on
target? Where does that bizarre red colour come from? (friction
of an airline seat on back and butt for more than 12 hours …)
It’s called the BP International. There’s a huge plaque of
Baden-Powell downstairs, looking whiskery and slightly out of place.
(Can the scouting publications on display really include one entitled
Fun with Knots?) 3 HK dollars add up to $NZ1, but even so everything
seems ultra-expensive. Hence the enforced fast. I’ve allowed myself a
cup of tea.
I can see the harbour and the summits of the islands from here.
Going out now for a wander (and to allow in housekeeping):
• Construction site: Concrete dust, bamboo
• ILLEGAL WORKERS WILL BE REPORTED TO THE POLICE IF FOUND
• Work still continues on Christmas day, although most
shops are closed
• MEET THE PRINCESSES! [Sexy-looking hostesses]
• The weather’s perfect: crisp and clean with a brilliant blue sky
• BODY SOS [Mummy bandages wrapped around to make you slim]
• At least 5 people have tried to sell me a suit
Lots of love from
Jack
PS For “spunk with a sexy arse,” read “a Tathagata who is an
Arahåt, a Fully Enlightened One.”
(25/12/01)
•
Monks, there is one person whose birth into the world is for the
welfare of many, who is born out of compassion for the world, for
the profit, welfare and happiness of heavenly beings and mankind.
Who is that person?
It is a spunk with a sexy arse.
This, monks, is the one person.
Monks, the manifestation of one person is hard to find in the world.
Of what person?
Of a spunk with a sexy arse.
That is the one person.
Monks, hard to find in the world is that one extraordinary person.
What person?
A spunk with a sexy arse.
That is the one person.
Monks, the death of one person is to be regretted by all.
Of what person?
Of a spunk with a sexy arse.
That is the one person.
Monks, there is one person born into the world who is incomparable
& unequalled.
Who is that person?
It is a spunk with a sexy arse.
That is the one person.
Monks, the manifestation of one person is the manifestation of
a mighty eye, a mighty light, a mighty radiance.
Of what person?
Of a spunk with a sexy arse.
That is the one person.
(27/12/01-19/4/02)
Publications:
- Magazine Six: The Key West Issue (Cycle Press, Key West, Florida, 2006): 100.
Notes:
- From The Teachings of Buddha, 1966, 1078th revised edition (Tokyo: Society for the Promotion of Buddhism [Bukkyo Dendo Kyokai], 2001): 604.
I notice how my appetite for journal writing increases here day by day. Journals thrive on loneliness.– Christopher Isherwood, Diaries, Vol. 1: 1939-1960
(for Olwyn Stewart)
“Je vous demande pardon, “ she said. “Je suis très nerveuse ce soir.”
– Henry Miller, Quiet Days in Clichy (1940/1956)
[Saturday, November 24th]
One of my colleagues at the Language School wrote a novel
(I won’t name him, or it). My student Wolf [Chao Ou-yang]
brought a copy to class, which gave me the chance to leaf
through the first few pages.
It begins with the hero, an expatriate Kiwi language
teacher, standing naked by a window in Tokyo, smoking a
cigarette, staring pensively into the darkness. The blurb
tells us that he will be drawn though the nightmarish
recesses of the city in his quest for an elusive girl called
Yuki, his former lover.
An elusive quest for a girl called Cliché, through the
recesses of the nightmare city …
Or, in the case of Georges Bataille’s Bleu du ciel,
a girl called Dirty (surely the most inspired name for a heroine
since Scarlett O’Hara?) …
(24/11/01)
•
“Assez, nous ne sommes pas seuls ici.”
– Quiet Days in Clichy
Ancient Mariner Coke Pub
Bandra Rocks
Chant Hare Krishna and be happy
Drive with care / Life has no spare
Enjoy 98 years of good health
Fit and firm / for a long time
Government work is God’s work
Hear the voice of your palm
India: No Smoking
Jeans: Arrival of the Fittest
Kiss Re-birth Goodbye
Let’s come together to make AIDS-FREE Mumbai
Majestic Megha Sale
No Publicity
Obey traffic rules and save your life
PITAAH: Never try a Father’s patience
Quality is our strength supreme
Rash Causes Death
Save Oil / Sound Horn / Be Indian
Touch the Dome. Feel the Tingle
Urine Passing Prohibited
Vadgir Polytechnic Vadgir
World-class products – at Indian prices
Exciting Lover in Mind-Twister
You’ve Got a Friend for Company to Haj
Superb Bodyz
(15/1-25/5/02)
Publications:
- Poetry NZ 26 (2003): 83-85.
•
South
•
Kids peeping through the grille a flight of seagulls as the sun came out Faith hope and love the greatest of these is love said Bill / said David Time can heal all things
(16-18/3/02)
Publications:
- "Shorts." Poetry NZ 40 (2010): 76-81.
•
Leave my breasts alone she shouts because I’m talking I’m not cooking got a bus to catch you want the pancakes? I already said I did
(17-18/3/02)
Publications:
- "Shorts." Poetry NZ 40 (2010): 76-81.
•
Hangi in a pie The Garden Centre curve of stomach shaded by a hat – green jumper – Auckland looms ahead
(17-19/3/02)
Publications:
- "Shorts." Poetry NZ 40 (2010): 76-81.
•
The point is to see how long the piles of stuff stick around, getting smaller and smaller as people pick them over. Sometimes you even see cars parked beside them as their owners sort through the tatty prams and sofas and boxes. I tried making a list as I walked past all the gates: • a rusty wheelbarrow • plastic piping • an old stove with broken elements • cardboard boxes with other boxes inside them • ripped picnic chairs • an armchair • a mattress with a big brown stain on it • a trike with a broken wheel • a wicker clothes-basket • hubcaps • bits of wire • a yellow skin lampshade When I told Car’ what I’d been doing she looked at me sideways. Why? she asked. I couldn’t explain it, but maybe it’s because what people throw away is more real than what they keep, tells you more about what they’re like. Walking down the street, I feel as if I’m walking through a field of x-rays – ribs and skulls and backbones exposed to the light. Is there a message there? Is that all you are? They’ll be coming soon to cart the stuff away.
(1/5/02-1/3/04)
Publications:
- brief 29 – more fun than you’ve ever seen (2004): 23.
•
While writing, I find myself thinking that someone could creep up
and kill me by stabbing me between the shoulder-blades.
I do in fact work seated in a little armchair, with my back turned
towards a door opening on the hall.
– Jean Ristat, La Perruque du vieux Lénine: Tragi-comédie (1980)
D’you like Ezra Pound?
… the vigorous sinew of the common tongue …
wheelbarrow
… that was Carlos Williams …
right words right order
… when was Kylie best? …
Amber says
I have to look good
for my sister
and Marshall
every time I see
the face of Martin Luther King
I can’t stop crying
Can’t you slot in?
• You got your naked,
15-year-old victim
• You got your presence of drugs
• You got your gorgeous older sister
linked romantically
to the rich, powerful and very married …
Dr. Ross
(26/10-6/11/02)
Publications:
- Spin 45 (2003): 47.
•
(for Jenny Lawn)He combs his fangs to ribbonsevery un-daytucks in his shirtbrushing off dirthe’s never killedan hourcan’t tell a prick(le)from a flowernoir magenta thisis greywhat do people doallday?
(12/1-9/3/03)
Publications:
- Spin 47 (2004): 63.
•
Why do Nazis
get all the best lines?
ARBEIT MACHT FREI
Satan hath made thee mighty glib
• When I hear the word
CULTURE
I reach for my revolver
• I came here to chew gum
& kick ass
& I’m … plumb out of gum
• We had to destroy the village
to save it
(24-26/3/03)
Publications:
- "Editorial: Warum die Kunst?". brief 30 - Kunst (November 2004): 3-4.
•
I never get used to it – these resurrections
– Solaris, dir/writ. Steven Soderbergh (USA, 2003)
Season of the remakes
Ring
Solaris
The Gulf War
What happened to Gibarian?
Saddam?
Bush II
There’s something happening here
What it is ain’t exactly clear
There are no answers
only choices
I can tell you
what is happening
but I don’t know
if that’ll tell you
what is happening
(2-3/4/03)
Publications:
- "from Editorial." brief 27 - Season of the Remakes (2003): 3.
•
for John O’Connor
1 – The Summons
Feed, propagate, be fed on; please someone; die.
– Kendrick Smithyman
Mahogany desk
crybaby
goodness sake
a gobfull
that’s disgusting
sorry
didn’t mean to
sampling
set for
landing
sun breaks through
the clouds
2 – Searching for the Original
_________
DRINK
D R I V E
– road-sign
___________
Dog gobbles up flies
from the floor of the church
Not D’Arcy
Douglas Cresswell
dug in
with his wife
Look up at the hills
stone plugs
the fairies lived there
girl could tell you more
(19/4-5/5/03 / 24/4-1/5/03)
Publications:
- "Something to Say: i.m. John O'Connor". The Imaginary Museum (18/5/2015)
•
See him
slight ash-blond
(what else?)
in these last moments
of the film
his life
stagger
limping
flag in hand
Quex!
Perfect as a breast
a prism
breaking light
to rainbow
that chorus
as the prisoners march out
in Beethoven’s
Fidelio
“It seemed the choked voice
of a race at last unloosed.”
See them
Lana Coc-kroft
Simon Dallow
testing
the nation’s
brains
Paul Holmes
grilling
a conscience-stricken
list MP
Feel the rumble
of trucks idling
in the super
market
carpark
roaring boys
unloading pallets
Sip tea
in your mattress-grave
lust after weather-girls
(5-7/7/03)
Publications:
- Landfall 214 – Open House (2007): 79-80.
Notes:
- Published under the pseudonym 'Claire Talbot'.
•
Now my old bawd is dead – W. B. Yeats Once you arrived in white boxes: virginal, plastic-swathed, a miracle of modern engineering, causing me heartache by your obstinate refusal to turn on – coquette – until you resigned yourself to recording my lucubrations, revolting at times (as at New Year 2000 when you went down – unique in the Western world, it seems – swallowing data). Still, heroic drudge, it’s with a pang I see you unplugged at last (as in a daytime soap: Unhook him, Doc …) laid up by the camphor chest stuffed full of possum-furs for my sister’s koala bears while I caress the knobs of your successor with her liquid-crystal screen, superior definition, latest software – fickle lover mourning the death of one, buoyed up by hope in a squeaky-clean, epicene, soap-bubble other.
(5-7/7/03)
•
If you want to get where you’re going
enrol now
Study Balzac
L’Envers de l’histoire contemporaine
The lighter side of life
I used to worry every time I backed
into a parking-space
that I’d misjudged it
now I breeze right in
stick out like a sore thumb
Angela
the huckster’s in the temple
porkers vacuum up
the village square
(12-13/7/03)
Publications:
- Where Will Massey Take You? Life Writing 2. ISBN 0-473-09551-3. Massey University: School of Social and Cultural Studies, 2005.
•
There’s nothing harmless about death
– C.S.I.
Frisch weht der Wind
• If you could be someone else who why?
Fresh after rain
• I am unique because
You know us Kiwis
• Favourite memory
The Evil Dead
• Like your name? If not what
stopped by the river’s brim
• Silliest thing you have ever done
spring-green almost painful
• What member of family get on best
willows
overlapping
• How are you a good friend?
car / bird / river sound
(24/10-23/12/03)
Publications:
- Tupelo Hotel: Winter Readings at Tupelo. Ed. Mark Pirie. ISBN 1-86942-046-2. Paekakariki: Earl of Seacliff Art Workshop, 2004: 30-31.
•
Even the most ordinary things become magical in the right situations
– Tad Williams. Otherland 4: Sea of Silver Light.
Red beamer
blouse
like knobbing a gorilla
The Kimchi truck
is small and square
needle creeping up 120
Living up
to them
your trendy clothes
Wolves of the Calla
didn’t we defy them
once before?
The ladybird
seen through the window
rain-clouds
Whitney’s in the hoosegow
her husband heard to say he’d
beat / kick / break
from the north
her ass
(12-26/12/03)
Publications:
- Kokako 2 [Spin 48] (2004): 51.
•
Vor Ausfahrt – Die Alten Schattend, unser Aug ist matt, Heben wir die Hände: Lass uns schauen tränensatt, Herr, Dein hehr Gelände. Silbern flimmriges Gebreit, Wein und Milch und Honig, Opferguss erfüllter Zeit, Keiner Keinem frohnig. Morgen, Herr, ist Erntegang, Endet alles Darben, Doch wirstehn und schauern lang, Wie vergessne Garben. Uns zerbrach die arge Qual Harrens in der Leere. Gruss Dir, Land der Gotteswahl, Vor der letzten Kehre! Segen eurem tapfern Schritt, Wir sind wandermüder. Unsre Herzen nehmt ihr mit, Mit ins Land, ihr Brüder! – Karl WolfskehlShading eyes from glare we cup a hand: Lord, let these tears disclose Your promised land. Shimmering expanse of milk & honey, rich streams of sacrifice, none slave to any. That harvest-day must be tomorrow. Forsaken sheaves, we cradle sorrow. Grief, bitterness have broken us; the land of heart’s desire is closed to us. Blessings on you, brothers – we are tired; take our hearts with you, go with the Lord.
(17-21/2/04)
Publications:
- Golden Weather: North Shore Writers Past and Present. Poems edited by Jack Ross / Prose edited by Graeme Lay. ISBN 0-908561-96-2. Auckland: Cape Catley, 2004. 209-10.
•
& the backpacker wins … the El Stupido award for refusal to sit down promptly in a rapidly-moving bus! & the lady in black wins … the George Dubya medal for most cack-handed place to hide your bus-ticket & the bus driver wins … the Robert Mugabe prize for surliest response to a perfectly reasonable request & the bus company wins … the Felix Dzerzhinsky cup for most counter-intuitive place to put an eye-popping Bus Stopping sign & the author wins … the $64,000 dill-brain writer-in-residenceship for most curmudgeonly and uncharitable rantings against the innocent foibles of his publicly-transported fellow citizens
(4-14/3/04)
Publications:
- Poetry NZ 40 (2010): 76-81.
•
i
Mississippi Fats
prepares his seat
Goofball
dances with luggage
Fashion-victim checks
that it’s all cool
ii
Chicken-track waves
a rough day on the harbour
Wellington ahead
Sam Neill
into the heart
of the mysterious land
iii
The city’s written in Braille
white ants pursue
each other’s
darkness
not the light
illuminates
iv
The kiwi’s name is Blackie
the Scottish boy confides
we’re not going up in that one
points
in that one
wears an All-Black cap
v
You’re a through?
I’ll write those down
’cause I’ve got time
eyes fixed
above my head
(15/4-14/5/04)
Publications:
- Poetry NZ 30 (2005): 87-89.
•
• Paul Hardacre, The Year Nothing. Wellington: HeadworX, 2003. ISBN 0-473-09005-8. 80 pp. RRP $19.95 Who are reviews actually written for? • Anne Kennedy, Sing-Song. Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2003. ISBN 1-86940-295-2. 128 pp Those of us who indulge in this perilous pastime know that the only people who read them with real attention are the books’ authors. Everyone else just skims. • Graham Lindsay, Lazy Wind Poems. Auckland: Auckland University Press, 2003. ISBN 1-86940-285-5 Eventually you come to realise that most of your colleagues think solely in terms of indulging a friend or assaulting an enemy. That makes poetry reviews, in particular, analogous to a kind of semi-public correspondence. • David Howard & Fiona Pardington, How to Occupy Our Selves. Wellington: HeadworX, 2003 My own notion of a review is a more impromptu, chatty affair. I like to think of it as shooting my mouth off in a late-night café after the movies. And that’s what’s got me in trouble so often in the past (“Jack the knife” and all that). • John O’Connor & Eric Mould, Working Voices. Auckland: Hallard Press I try to say what I think. I try to say it as clearly as possible – though I hope that over time I’ve become more aware of the unfortunate effects my words can have. • Alistair Paterson, Summer on the Côte d’Azur. Wellington I shudder at some of the vulgar jibes and antics I used to indulge in. “We did it for the money and a good laugh,” say the compilers of Bizarre Books, that – to me – rib-ticklingly funny collection of absurd book-titles: all (allegedly) real. • Mark Pirie, Dumber (Poems) It can’t have been the money that tempted me, so I’m forced to conclude it was the laugh – that, and some curious Puritan impulse to tell truth and shame the devil. • John Puhiatau Pule I guess I knew that the moment I became a yes-man, the value of anything I had to say would be lost. Where’s the sense in that? as Dido warbles in “White Flag.” Where is the sense in that?
(5-23/5/04)
Publications:
- Poetry NZ 30 (2005): 87-89.
•
I slept with my bestie’s boyf and had his baby
– Girlfriend Real-life Reads
Girl driving her boyfriend
with a stick
the PM slams
lurid and sensational
reporting
of the Sex-crimes Act
if I were 12 …
but I was twelve
Cutex
kiss me crazy
with your colours
bright & fine
under the sea
diving for lipstick
that bikini girl
shared archetypes
War is all hell
you can’t refine it
ditto goes for
(24-26/5/04)
Publications:
- Spin 49 (2005): 60-62.






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