NaPoMo NZ Day 10 - unrequited love

[just mercedes]

 
Rules: Write a poem for 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 National Poetry Month. 


Topic 10: Write a poem inspired by unrequited love, somehow connected to NZ.  
 
Maori legends are full of them - try Pania, https://youtu.be/5H8PY7j2ocI or
 
Hinemoa https://youtu.be/mKlG5leo1rA
 
https://eithnenightingale.com/2015/01/02/mourning-mists-of-maori-gods-in-milford-sound/
 
https://www.teara.govt.nz/mi/biographies/2t48/tregear-edward-robert
 

Form : any
Line requirements: 8 lines or more

---

I’m driving north along the Desert Road
as misty tears from Taranaki’s head
lead me towards his loss, his wife, his home,
his Ruapehu. There beside her bed
 
her lover smoulders. Tongariro won
the battle to possess her. Still, she mourns
her gentle husband, the defeated one.
She cries for him as every new day dawns
 
and Tongariro angers. He well knows
he never will possess her love again.
The space that Taranaki left still grows
between them like a swamp, morass of pain.
 
The twisting road now hides, now shows, the three;
eternal dance, of love, and loss, and me.
 
 
 
https://teara.govt.nz/en/1966/ruapehu-mount/page-3


Feeling very wooden here - but will just keep plodding on. 

[just mercedes]

Note to self
 
It's inappropriate
to be sexually aroused
by an avatar or a
signature.

Internet relationships
are not entirely
human.
 
Machines that involve sex:
vibrators, and in a pinch,
back of an electric toothbrush,
the corner of the washing machine in
spin cycle, and
the hand-held shower jet.
 
There’s no app. for an LCD screen
yet.

[Todd]

See Dick Run

See Jane.
See Chris.
Chris loves Dick.
Dick does not love Chris.
See Chris write Dick letters.
See Chris not send any letters.
See Chris give Dick the letters.
See Dick read the letters.
See Dick get a restraining order.
See Chris love Dick more.

~~

Based on: https://www.aucklandlive.co.nz/show/i-lo...hris-kraus

[Anna]

I
There is a Piopiotahi 
in all of us 
if only we make time 
to listen

Each 
Piopiotahi 
sings 
the same song

of love being dopamine rush 
 
Papatuanuku should run more
sing more, and follow up 
her hot shower 
with a cold blast 
it ups the dopamine levels 
and the mist can then be 
what it really is: 
condensation of a specific kind 

II  

Rangi is unhappy 
that I have re-educated 
Papatuanuku, who does 
the Zumba, and never looked better.
That music is the adrenalin match 
to her dopamine levels, 
and she sings with her Piopio 
"Love, come and go, Love 
dance with me 
love there is always the horizon 
and the distance of the eye to the sea"

(I think Rangi may have two left feet...
just thinking aloud, ...)

I will now have to coerce her 
into kickboxing the love blues away 
when Rangi is busy or besotted 
by the newest phone on the scene

"unrequited love" did you say 
did you hug yourself today?

[CRNDLSM]

Work at the local shelter
is my calling and passion.
Volunteers just come and go
like animals we rescue. 
Days go by helter skelter,
filthy and out of fashion.
They bite and scratch, but I know
through all the runny poo, I really love what I do.

[just mercedes]

Anna - you're hitting stride! This is powerful.

CRNDL - got to love the runny poo!

---

Todd - I can't help feeling you're getting a strange exposure to NZ life and customs! Cool poem.

[Tiger the Lion]

Proof of Life 

I am
a movie trailer;

the lead actor
leaning in for a kiss.

The music 
is victorious,

and you
are beginning 
to lean too.

[just mercedes]

Yeah Tiger - keep them coming!

[kolemath]

Lake Wakatipu in the rain,

a native born cabbage tree,
broccoli as a tree?
Merino sheep,
View of the lake from the farm,
Papatuanuku’s rising mists?
Te Anau,
Mirror lake,
waterfalls by the minute,
rain forest moss,
rain forest ferns,
Rangi’s morning dew or Patuakanka’s rising mist?
Rangi’s morning dew or Patuakanka’s rising mist?
Milford Sound,
the gods hover around the mountain tops,
God’s tears,
waterfalls everywhere,
shadow puppets of trees,
touching the onyx,
waterfalls reaching the heavens,
seals basking on the rocks,
Milford Sound,

put me in awe, put me in awe,
but of these wonders that I saw,
none loves me or you at all.

[Achebe]

I'm your unrequited loue


I know you'd fancy a crack
at me in a cruddy loue sack,
if I said the things you want to hear,
like how your blue, blue eyes
are like the skies of Atreda, your breath the breath of roses,
your little nose, a work of art, the nonpareil of noses,
and I'd kiss you to sleep every night,
but you have a beard like Moses.

I thought at first, when you sent it to
my snapchat, once I'd posted
a lovely pic of my nine foot prick, much adored, often toasted
by the bordello crew,
an hairy hoo hoo,
but then I saw the moustache too,
like Ayn Rand at Ludwig Mises
bristly, like fine iron pieces,
in a field of twenty oersted.

Boo hoo. Boo hoo hoo boo.

[billy]

some great stuff going on in the NZ threads

[rayheinrich]

                           
                                    Dusky Sound, a fiord on the southwest corner of New Zealand, in Fiordland National Park


                                                                    < fiord* >
                                                               
                                                                my dearest love
                                                                what can I say?  
                                                                you took my heart
                                                                some thirty years ago
                                                                when I first saw your picture...
                                                               
                                                                the beauty of your depths
                                                                your cold blue strength
                                                                in which I know resides an ancient heart
                                                                still beating
                                                                waiting to embrace me
                                                               
                                                                but we are separated
                                                                by eight thousand miles
                                                                a $1000 ticket...
                                                               
                                                                true love should have no barriers
                                                                especially ones of gold
                                                                but this is fantasy  
                                                                a fantasy of youth  
                                                                the years have worn me now
                                                                and taught me truths
                                                                i never wished to know
                                                               
                                                                the poor
                                                                cannot escape
                                                                and i
                                                                shall never know your beauty
                                                               
                                                                                - - -




        *"Fiord" is how they spell "fjord" in New Zealand