Tag Archives: anger

violation shared (11 Sept 2011)

9 Dec

At 14 she experience a kind of violence
that no girl should ever know.

There was alcohol and
a lack of adult supervision
and a boy
who wanted something
without asking first.

Did he feel entitled?
Did he see the pleasure
in front of him, like a skirt
riding shorter
as a means of relief
from his own loneliness?

Desire burnt away compassion
and at the expense of all else
he stole the gratification
of then and there.

Did he know in that short moment
his act would imprint a death
an aching loss
of breath, a hatred that would burn
inward and inward
until every cell poisoned itself
and her hair would hang limp
and her legs would bled
the damage.

Did he know she scratched her skin
knowing no beauty
and she hated the violence
like she hated the blood
from her womb.

She never forgave
She never forgot
She told the story
over and over to reference her pain
in this world like a marker on a map

She diminished herself and she forgot what she created.

She forgot, because she would not
have acted so violently
if she’d remembered.

Did she feel entitled?
Did she see the pleasure in front of her?
Like the answer to all her pain?
Her loneliness. The relief of
then and there. The gratification
of her dreams in that instant
burning away compassion.

Did she know in that long moment
her desires would burn a new death
an aching loss as a wedding ring
and a sacred promise fell off his finger
for good. Did she know she ripped
my womb from me? Did she know
the barren world she cast me in to?

Did she know she stole what was most sacred to me,

most fragile…

in marriage

But that hate had reason to return, those dark clouds lay in waiting and the shame brought
no light.

… I wonder why she could not have asked first
Why she could not have consented
to wait …

But she learned from violence
and she dropped those same
stones in the ocean. A tidal wave
is a tidal wave

and she is no better
or worse
that the man who wronged her.

She is oblivious in her
realisation of pleasure

because she has shown
she can do to others
what others have done to her.


I hate (23 July 2011)

2 Oct

hate is a piercing word
and even though I love
you, I had to scream it

I had to – like a wave has to
disembody itself on a rock


the last time I screamed those words
was into the face of my mother

I was fifteen and
she got more churned up
than the frothing white sea

that receives me now

wreaked (16 July 2011)

30 Sep

nowadays when I go for a run
I run to the bay
where the ships
wreaked themselves on the rocks

it was a common scene
back then, some made it
some didn’t. I wonder
when the lighthouse got built…

I run to this bay because the quarry
got shut down
and now the naked cliffs
are slightly gorged

and it feels ok to scream

this taiaha (07 July 2011)

29 Sep

I wield this stick
this taiaha
you have no business here
on my heartland

I strike you down
there is nothing left

… you reappear, fully formed

I take the taiaha
I spear your life
a great thwack
(the same sound
as road kill)

I strike again
your heart, groin, your
knees, ankles

you have no life here
in my heartland
I turn away, and

you reappear, fully formed …

woman (5 Aug 2010)

27 Aug

I am not a peachy girl
don’t kiss me as such
it’s like robbing
  my tongue
of eloquent words
it’s like stealing
  my lust
and pouring the oil of it
  into some useless endeavour
it’s like sitting in bed
  half naked
  half wondering
and all this strength
is whipped away

stop looking at me
  like that
in a partial way
  semi distracted
in some other bird song
pour your soul
  into me
and I tell you, I will
  roar like you
  have never heard
show me
Show Me!

Are you strong enough?

The Oil Spill (17 July 2010)

27 Aug

Perhaps my body knows this better than I
an intelligence outside
my mind, yet electric in proximity
an eloquent story teller
who crafts the motif with the material
at hand; like skin, troubled
blistered in fact, psoriasis
hitting a funk
the autoimmune hitting a funk
like it’s cool to stay out
to all hours of the morning
instant gratification?
over indulging?
a sensitive thing, skin
aggravated easily by environmental
friction, sweat and stress

My body tells the story
better than I; how the oil spill
seeps up my leg
unobliged to stay skin-deep
and coming from somewhere
deep and desperate
a silver sheen
breaking into pieces
breaking skin like silent explosions
and the marshland could be affected
the spawning grounds could be affected
the fragile wetlands could be affected
and I want compensation
for buying these genes
and I want someone to be accountable
for getting us all addicted

My body knows this better than I
this earth is a living organism too
and we share pain
like we share needles and drills
digging for more
surveying a treasure
like a one-night-stand
offering sticking plasters
for a soul
and spilling oil for attention
like a carefully orchestrated revolution

fighting (7 July 2010)

27 Aug

flattening stare

caught out or in

a locked gaze
devoid of empathy
like ooooh, a sound

easily escapable
but suddenly charged shut
behind unmoving

lips and the heart
has no traction here
(those eyes stare)

a creation of cages
busying and justifying
yet solidly flat

tight voices
blank blank blank
a cap on the heart

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