Of course you’re fourteen years older
since the last time I saw you.
Your magnificent girth - dizzy height.
From your smallest roots (the size of a man’s thigh)
to your first branches that bees nested in -
your honey would have been the sweetest.
A man could build a house from this tree
my uncle told me. I believed him -
in fact, you could have built more.
I flew over you once in a helicopter,
you looked pathetically small,
but a fool was I in your towering shadow
thinking you were so.
Written: 1987
———
Kauri trees are the biggest (in volume) tree
in New Zealand standing up to 50m tall.
This particular Kauri tree was on my mate’s
father’s farm which I would visit as a kid.
Categories:
kauri, growing up, perspective, tree,
Form: Free verse
Memories of him are still there upon Weymouth Road
his sullen white cross nailed to the old Kauri
symbolize by countless layers of uncaring street wise graffiti,
while burdensome scars revealed by heavy metal grow faint
and the old Rose i placed withered and faded
in the over grown yet still blood stained grass,
a monument still there for the few of us
those that cared those with lives full of guilt
'when you mate ran out of life number nine!'
© Harry J Horsman 2013
Categories:
kauri, angst, dedication, old, old,
Form: Free verse
With every man I kiss or fu...I'm writing you love's divorce papers
CONSIDER YOURSELF SERVED!
Your love inside of me
Has become like a festering boil
Or an inflamed, infected wound
The injury must be pierced
The infection must be cut out
The puss and bacteria must drain out of the sore
So, with every touch or kiss
Or mere presence of another man
Is like trying to bring the
Infection, pimple to a head
If I kiss enough men
Or someone long enough
I will kill the love that I have for you
Like a knife
Playing hairy kauri
I will take the knife and slit my wrists
I will weep, I will mourn
I will die inside
As I let my love for you die
And just when I feel weakest
When I feel like all the blood
Has drained from my weary body
I will feel one last heartbeat
Like the blood from a vampire
I will feel myself dead, yet alive
And feel myself be reborn
I will survive
I will go on
And I will vow never to be
Burned or used this way again
I will refuse to be
A dog unto its vomit
And I will avoid
That which brought the boil, pimple, wound
And I will move on!
Categories:
kauri, allegory, loss, lost love,
Form: I do not know?