NaPoMo NZ Days 16 and 17 - question and answer

[just mercedes]

Rules: Write a poem for NZ national poetry month on the topic or form described. Each poem should appear as a separate reply to this thread. The goal is to, at the end of the month have written 30 poems for NZ National Poetry Month. 


Topics 16 & 17: Pose a question, somehow referencing NZ,  in a poem or a stanza.  Answer the question, as if someone else, in another.

Yeterday and today I packed up my home, moved it a few miles along the coast, heading towards the equator, and unpacked it again. Almost. Oh the changes-of-addresses, the notifications, the forwarding, the new services that aren't turned on, as promised, new neighbours, new small kindnesses, new neighbourhood. No poems from me for these two days. I'm blown away by what's been written in the thread lately. Go, you!

[CRNDLSM]

Watching Nigel Thornberry
make canoes with the Maori,
makes me question history,
and how much should i believe
presented on a tv
screen, when really visiting
the tribes in person would be
insurmountable to all the truths I could read.

Roses are red, violets blue.
You're like the gum on my shoe.
Try to clean it off and puke.
If I were to cook for you,
I'd blend the gum in a stew
because you're gross and there's few
who'd make me do what i do.
'Just because it rhymes doesn't mean it's true'

[Wastrel]

Day 16

Where can I buy
thy woven garment,
criss- crossed tree roots
that shimmer like water
or tattooed song

[Todd]

Older Self

The hourglass measures our regrets,
grain by grain.
The same sun that brings light
also casts shadows.
The seed of the kowhai is death.
What could I say if I go back,
reverse the glass, and start again?


Younger Self

Warnings are noise lost in the surf,
and water glistens above a sharp reef.
The hourglass is rushing sand
like the carbonated fizzing in my blood.
The bark of the kowhai is a medicine.

[Anna]

What will you carry with you
as you set sail again


Only this self, the dog, the better half
as I set sail again


Where will you go with them
as you set sail again

Where I am destined to be
as they carry me across again


Who will you become O maiden
as you set sail again

I will be the seamstress of dreams
in moonlight, sunshine and sequin

What will you do as you reach
your destination, O fair maiden

I will stretch my tired bones
and fall asleep once again

[kolemath]

Oh Where, Oh Where has Mercedes Gone?

New Zealand must have disappeared,
for nowhere in sight is its premiere poet!
Did the sea swallow up the jagged land?
Did the Maori finally rebel?
Did the Kiwis abandon English
for an Austronesian tongue?
Where will I find inspiration for the next poem?
From myself?
Impossible!



Mercedes is Gone

Today she packed up her home,
--a house-sized box, I presume--
moved it a few miles along the coast,
--by a flock of helicopters, I presume--
heading towards the equator, and unpacked it again,
--a lot of spare cardboard, I presume--
The changes-of-addresses, notifications, forwarding,
new services that aren't turned on,
new neighbours, new small kindnesses, new neighbourhood
--the rebellious "U" invades Kiwi spelling conventions,
or was it stabbed dead in the US?
Now my poem wanders, like Mercedes.
She will be home soon,
I presume.

[billy]

some great stuff going on in the NZ threads

[vagabond]

the end of the chain

they wouldn´t understand
if i painted it for them.
my blunted fangs transcend
the treats and bones i´m thrown,
it isn´t real, this world
is not my home.


the beginning of the chain

a pretty night to walk the park,
my undead dog kept on the mandatory leash.
it´s dragging towards the fog
and barks, a howling concert starts.
i´m wavering
between embarrassment and scorn,
and maybe both are wrong.
it all depends
on where the chains would lead...
how should i know?
i see just shadows in the dark.

Mercedes, please forgive that it lacks a reference to new zealand. couldn´t find a way to squeeze one in. but i liked the idea of question and answer