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Rachael Wood Poem
Babies cry, sleep, change nappies, feed. Toddlers drink water from cups. Younger brothers, younger sister, older brother, older sister, small town, large country.
One lane roads, one lane bridges, unsealed, 60mph, in the dark. Bush covered gorges, rail lines across the river, small waterfalls, windows down, no seatbelts in the back seat, lying down, sleeping on the rugs, stopping for carsick ones on the edges. Mum singing, Dad driving, children counting dead possums.
The ways into town run through a long winding gorge or a longer winding coastal road, both prone to slips. Nearest cities Christchurch, Nelson, 200 miles away. Only referred to as the Coast, with its own dialect, only belonging when born there.
Biscuits four trays, oven
Bread hot water cupboard rising, Dad late
Holden Kingswood written off, dead bull
Packs, boots, carbide lamps, white fizzy hosing down leggings, parkas, gumboots, bikes, back porch full.
Flames warm quality coal
Sheet lightening children’s window race
Nothing more calming than the thunder of the rain.
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
When I hear your voices
I don't know you
With your gratitude you make my day
Each little sentence thoughtfully commented
Compliments that resonate
touch a chord, fill a need
assuage hunger
for the wonder
of comforting genuine words of praise
uplifting
absorbing moments
"A really touching and beautiful poem Rachel….love it!" Debx
Yolanda Nicholsen "Beautiful write I adore Autumn thanks for sharing"
Beautiful. Excellent description. I want to be there." Judy Gulas
This poem speaks for those whose lost their voice along with everything else and only even now after all this time beginning to speak. I am sure there is a lot more poems that you will feel compelled to write. Regards David"
"Perfect length for me. I Love Autumn. Such a wonderful backdrop of dappled leaves and the sun not too hot with enough rays left to bring out all the various tones in a leaf. This poem shows your versatility. Will look out for future poems. David In Wainui."
"A poem like this shows how keeping the narrative simple and not overthinking the write can produce the goods. This poem records honest feelings that I am sure many can relate to. David from Wainuiomata NZ"
Love this poem Rachael it’s so open, honest and freeing, and I can see the image clearly, almost like having a person in ones pocket, there listening and validating, very beautiful :) I hope I saw it as you described. Angie
You people see far more than I described
Thank you
Gratitude a hard gift to find, to say is mine
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
I'm ready if you are.
Steadily walking past wekas, canoes, sailboats, motorboats, along concrete paths, down ash-felt slopes
Across intersecting car trails
Drawn only by the beckoning beach.
Feet slipping over Northland's rough green grass
Damp, spongy, smooth grit of coarse golden sand
Surrounding bush covered hill houses
Silently call your name, drowning out the cicadas.
'Where are you? Did you come?
I'm ready if you are.’
Sinking into still water
Invited into the giant’s bathtub
Slowly sit, deep ideas, deep tides
Run rocks between my toes, sandals
Nesting dotterel, raucous red billed gulls dive bomb
Cute little scoundrel of a dog, owning the beach.
Gaze on other swimmers, friendly laughter hastens
Early morning dippers, holiday makers, with quiet chat, Slipping away, back to their working day,
Driving uphill to Russell, leaving quiet Tapeka Bay.
'Would you love it here?' Smile.'
Dumb question, who wouldn't?'
'I'm ready if you are.'
Deep soundings, cool water
Your name echoes silently from windless hills.
I grab my towel, dislodge stones from my sandals
Guide myself blindly up the streets and hill,
Steady along concrete paths, past canoes,
Pausing in the doorway to a soft bed where I find you.
Dry weeping salt from my eyes
'I'm ready if you are..'
Sleep confused, “Where did you go?''
'...to the beach'
Standing tall above your sleeping form
Hope listens, living breaths,
Hope listens, silent non response
Hope falls, body turns away
Breath, mouth, not ready to start their day.
Unspoken questions fall only
on sleeping stroke-fatigued ears.
Standing there, alive, energised,
'I'm ready if you are.'...Not!
'If you are not ready now
Where will I find you? Where will I find you later?
Will I find you later?
Arisen, alive, leaping energetic, with laughter
Smiling, saying 'Come swim with me!'
Hope turns to fantasy.
Outside along the concrete path
Wekas linger
Towels, togs swing in the bush edged clothesline
Canoes rest
Awaiting the excitement of days spent ploughing through the water.
Tears linger
Sounds of the shower
Washing the salt away.
February 2017
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
Reflections in the sky
Ask you to do something
No one else has done
Compassion, self-calming, democracy
All attempts for peace
Honouring our imperfections, our humanity
Tragic thralls
Have no time to learn new ways
Life is death, fear leads their way, to die of loyalty
Conflict helps us grow and change
No time to share our wisdom, our love, our kindness
Bodies bloodied red, countries souls lie dead
Yet still we dream
Of World Peace
So young, a simple one.
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
If it were possible to love a thing,
I would love you.
I would hear the click of your pieces moving
The silence of felt.
Feel the hardness of marble, the soft warmth of wood,
Watch the changing endless patterns.
Smell the patient contentedness as your dance unfolds.
I know you read the minds of many who play with you,
Their struggles and conquests, their despairs and rage,
Their satisfactions and glee.
If you could laugh your pieces would wobble
all day long and far into the night.
Tiles black and white and other contrasting shades.
Eight by eight, white on the right,
Whilst the Queen goes on her own colour.
Knights jump, castles in every corner.
For centuries your image has endured unchanged.
Your pieces wobble all day long and far into the night
If it were possible to love a thing, I would love you.
October 2021
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
My gaze lowers building to the ground
Multilayers empty landscapes, graffiti, murals.
Past buildings merge into present car parks.
I currently buy my daughters shoes here in this
empty section. We eat here at this lovely restaurant, this fenced off parking rubble. I breakdown and cry outside the WINZ building after inhumane dysfunctional treatment. At least that building is no longer hosting. 'Please bring in the universal basic income' I say ASAP.
Spilling guts on street, holding post upright she clings
Grabbing petrol filled car door. Tending the wounded
'The children, quick, drive!'
Just making it out before cordon closes central city.
Tension eases the further I drive from the city into the countryside. Hills roll into mountains, firs wave, still autumn air instead of the earth shaking and people around me dying. Green and brown lands are still, reaching out forever. I am the one left shaking, being enfolded into such calm as I thought never to feel again.
Country gift shop replenishes hungry eyes
Normalcy, slower pace, friendly, not overly polite
Beautiful colours, intricate designs, handcrafted,
Relaxing until
'Where do you come from traveller? '
Honesty compels me to say 'Christchurch'
Watching their expression fade into shock.
'That's bad!' they say, 'That's bad!'
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
We are not islands
We of the islands of N and Z placed together
There are three of us
If we were islands
We would lie in the sea
Sunbathing
Waves would lap over us
Playfully tickle our sandy shores
Crash against our rocky cliffs
Throw seaweed onto our beaches.
We would see each other
On the distant horizons on a clear day
We would never meet
Never move towards each other
Embrace
Calming each other's senses simply by being there
As islands, meeting in this way
Would be meaningless to us
Incomprehensible
We would be being what we were meant to be
Islands of rock, of land
In the sometimes sunny, sometimes stormy sea
When we, strengthened by coming together
Move apart
We are like islands linked by similar vegetation
As birds fly from one to another, over above in the sky
We send our thoughts over the Wi-Fi into the sky
Standing alone as non-islands, we are not landlocked
Carrying our bases with us, able to come and go
Distant and closer
You don't throw seaweed on my beaches
I don't float unmoving in a distant sea
We are alone generally free to move
around in our own worlds
Being who we see we can be
Being not islands
standing alone in an ocean of sea
Being free to move
To share our thoughts poetically
We are able unlike islands
To write our words
Where others may see them,
may hear them
To make public
What is only inside ourselves
Can an island do that?
May 2016
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
There's a quietness in your room
Empty of your step
Filled with memories and love
Until the day that you forget
As you erase me from your mind
You didn't mean to be unkind
Through our memories we connect
Until the day that you forget
I struggle to remember
All the things we didn't say
I struggle to remember
Who you were before today
Until the day that you forget
Who I am and why I came
I struggle to remember
Why we have the same name.
There's a quietness in your room
Empty of your step
Filled with memories and love
Until the day that you forget
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
The cat sat on the footstool.
The curtains hang closed.
The toothbrush holder contains two brushes
The cat stretches, jumps down, miaows at the door.
The moon is full
Bush freshens the air
Cat jumps through the doorway
Streetlight illuminates the pathway
Toothbrushes chatter
Water rushes by
Cat softly taps his paws on the glass door
Runs inside, warmth
Lights out
Moving sleepily
Cats eyes wide awake
Piano plays Chopins Noctourne Opus 27 no 2
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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Rachael Wood Poem
We don't know the names of the dead.
Our friends that are missing
We hope have fled.
We're far away from our quaky home
With internet, email and skype to roam
Grateful now for each voice we hear
For each life we hold so dear.
We don't know
when we go home
whether we will find a place to roam
that vaguely resembles
what we used to call home.
We're far away but not alone
We are not alone
with up to three hundred and fifty dead
and over thirty thousand fled,
The infrastructure crushed like bones
Will anyone be left to welcome us home?
"Is anyone there? Does anyone care?"
We will call in vain.
With our friends gone, our schools closed
Shopping malls demolished, bridges and roads closed
Leaping up and crashing down, more happened in the centre of town
and up on the hills the houses dear have in a cloud of dust, just disappeared.
Metre high watery sludge and trucks in holes
Fatal boulders and close calls
An emotional stream of people flows
from the city to heaven knows
From the city people go
With aftershocks who would stay?
With aftershocks it’s hard to say
Who will go and who will stay?
Over here where the hoot owls call
We cannot perceive it all
Much too big and devastating,
Overwhelming, too much quaking
Endless queries "are you ok?"
Endless lives crave only normalcy
Stay put,
We love you
We want everything to be the same
Whilst knowing that can never be again.
Copyright © Rachael Wood | Year Posted 2022
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