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‘Brushed Words’ Artwork inspired by Poetry

Selection of Poetry

A Collaborative Exhibition by Estuary Arts Centre and Hibiscus Coast Writers Inc.

Monday 12 June – Sunday 2 July 2017

*Some work will also go on display at the Readers and Writers Showcase on Sat 10 June 2017 at Kingsway School

Aims:

To encourage artists in their creative fields to present Artwork inspired by Poetry.

So the audience may experience an enhanced interpretation of the written word through visual art.

Artists will select a poem of their choice written by local members of the Hibiscus Coast

Writers Inc. from this selection

Only two artists can use the same poem, so choose soon.

(First come first served)

It is advisable to have a selection of choices to avoid disappointment.

All registrations to be received on selection of poem (no later than 16 April 2017)

Cost to enter: $10 per artist, max three entries each

Artwork can be for sale with the accompanying poem

The Readers and Writers Showcase:

Saturday 10 June, 8.30am – 5pm

A selection of ‘Brushed Words’ artwork will be on display at Kingsway School Junior Campus

in Silverdale. Due to space constraints we will not be able to exhibit all of the artworks.

This selection of ‘Brushed Words’ will be at the discretion of the organisers and in

consultation with the artist.

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Important Dates:

Delivery Dates for artwork:

Tuesday 06 June to Thursday 08 June between 9am and 4pm daily to Estuary

Arts Centre

Exhibition at Estuary Arts: Monday 12 June to Sunday 02 July 2017

Exhibition Opening function: Wednesday 14 June, 6-8pm

Artists – Please read the poems and make your selection. FIRST COME FIRST

SERVED

Email: manager@estuaryarts.org to secure your poem.

List of poems:

1 A Secret Revealed Page 3 2 An Unforgiving Place Page 4 3 Birdsong Page 5 4 Bonds of Love Page 6 5 Butterflies at the Beach Page 6 6 Chords Page 7 7 Cicadas Page 7 8 Conversation with a 2 year old Page 8 9 Coromandel Page 9 10 Dementia Page 10 11 Female Aspergers Page 11 12 Flat White Page 11 13 Halloween Rebellion Page 12 14 It’s Great to be Old Page 13 15 Landscape Page 14 16 Light Page 15 17 Moko Page 16 18 My Heart Page 16 19 On hearing the first Magpie in spring Page 17 20 Partners in Grime Page 18 21 Putting up the tent Page 19 22 Sunday in the Kowhai Tree Page 20 23 Superhero at the Manger Page 21 24 The Lady of the Bay Page 22

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25 The Peg Obsession Page 23 26 The Figment Page 24 27 The Sting of Death Denied Page 25 28 Solomon’s Love Song Page 26 29 This Mere Mortal Page 27 30 Spring Page 27 31 Dappled Sky Page 27 32 Wishes Page 28 33 Tanka 1 Page 28 34 Tanka 2 Page 28

1) A SECRET REVEALED

Slipping silently, stealthily, between the trees Weaving spells of iridescent enticement, entrapment, allurement. Waiting, watching. Cherished victim soothingly constrained by innocent filaments Draws back too late, eager passions quickly quenched. Stillness lies within the sleek shroud that time will devour. Still waiting, watching. Until the early rays of gold on glistening crystal, reveal the spider’s secret

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2) AN UNFORGIVING PLACE

The drive of rain, the hoist of waves

relentlessly pounding the wind driven vessel.

Natural chaos, nature unrestrained.

Sheet the sails, meet the challenge.

Intrepid in its quest, the vessel ready to do its best

Seagulls screech and plane the wailing wind

sea-spray whipped into a ghostly veil.

Sheet the sails, meet the challenge.

Intrepid in its quest, the vessel proudly

does its best.

Exploring sea creatures ride the wake.

Down to the deep they plunge where lies

the treasure trove, rockbound and protected by

the dwellers of the sea.

Clasped in an eerie shroud the vessel now helpless.

Vision lost and blindly driven onto the rocky shore in this unforgiving place.

Storm spent, vessel grounded, journey thwarted.

Subdued waves, reddened by the rising sun,

the vessel glimpsed through the morning’s mist

as murmuring ripples lick its wounds.

Yet intrepid in its quest and spirit staunch.

Survival at its best.

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3) BIRDSONG

High in the trees, over rustle of warm-sweet hay,

Two grey larks lovingly tend their nest.

With melodious, piping birdsong they greet each day

And feed four gaping mouths; a family blessed.

Then gilded, tawny nightingale swings into town,

His feathers preened; his voice magnificent trills.

One lark is smitten, senses allured by his sound.

Her harmony soars with his, her heartbeat thrills.

‘Go sing with him,’ mate says. ‘I’ll watch the young.’

He nobly agrees to do a double shift

So all could hear sublime ‘Magnificat’ sung.

Alas, she abandons the nest, beguiled and adrift.

Today, when forsaken lark’s lament rings clear,

All the world stops tweeting; his song to share

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4) BONDS OF LOVE

A new cry of life; a call from soul to soul.

Labour complete, her mind is remote and calm.

Her heart warms with waves of loving balm

Overflowing to fill the vacated hole.

Though cord is cut, she knows she’s been made whole.

Sweet tears of thanks become a joyful psalm

As Love Himself holds each one in His palm.

Apart, yet one, both peace and sleep enfold.

Faint whimper stirs her senses to alarm

And mewling cry summons, a call to arm.

Knowing, searching, nuzzling, suckling wonder

And feathery sigh breathes life into new vision.

As dark, blue eyes gaze out of eons yonder,

Soft murmurs release deep soundings of His Passion.

5) BUTTERFLIES AT THE BEACH

Rough seas, grey-green and white, jumble on the sand,

seagulls squawk and scud before the wind.

Above the water a rainbow curve sweeps along the beach,

the figure dangling underneath pulls cords that turn it

360 degrees to retrace its path, twisting and feinting

to avoid others who join the race.

Racing, racing, myriads of multi-coloured butterflies

jewel-bright against the pewter sky.

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6) CHORDS

Soft the sun’s blush upon the clouds

In whispers a shell does open

Flutters of wing, delicate, butterfly beautiful

Uncharted, wild and free, leaves fall

Painted is a portrait of silence

Hope clasped in hands a child prays

Wondrous the sight of a new born babe

Hopeful promise within lover’s stolen kiss

Dynamic the sight of a rosebud unfolding

Framed, serene ~ the portrait is completed

7) CICADAS

Stuttering stroke

Shrieking, soaring sequence

Sibilant symphony of sun

Celebration

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8) CONVERSATION WITH A 2 YEAR OLD

Child and cat on warm concrete.

Careful, says she, circling the tabby

on her scooter, he bites.

Puss blinks in the sun

and continues to lick his front paw.

Is he a boy I ask.

Ivy giggles, No.

A girl then?

She sighs, he’s a cat

of course.

Stupid adult.

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9) COROMANDEL

Your name rolls off my tongue

like Bangalow, Mandalay

reminder of an Indian heritage

via an English missionary.

That all seems far away as

I view your harbour, mudflats,

boats heeling into the wind,

black vertebrae of oyster spats.

From my cottage I watch

pukekos dart, heads of toetoe wave,

flax nod, willows weep

beyond the hedge of feijoa.

All is silent except for gulls

like arrows as they swoop

on flounder trapped by tide

in a thrashing helpless group.

Nature adjusts its palette.

Inexorable, the sea creeps back

and blue smiles replace

the glowers of greeny black.

Sky blushes like a maiden,

sun waves a silver wand.

Night sighs as it draws

a feathered cloak over the land.

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10) DEMENTIA

Do I know you

People tell me I should

Something familiar about the eyes

…nah, it’s gone

Just another nameless face

Who are you

I tell you, I don’t know

A cog turns in my mind

…nah, it’s gone

Just another empty space

Have I been there

A lifetime ago perhaps

Fleeting memory flickers

…nah, it’s gone

Just another lifeless place

Do I know you

People tell me I should

Someone familiar in the mirror

…nah, not at all

Just another wretched confused face

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11) FEMALE ASPERGER ©

Aware she’s unique, but she’s not sure why, alien loneliness, many tears she cries.

She’s an easy target, to knock down small, to cowardly torment, belief makes them tall.

Though physically similar, but not quite the same, she’s a complicated puzzle, living a confusing game.

The rules are a mystery, but she pretends she knows, committed to learn, she slowly grows.

Though socially exempt, she invests in this time, to give an example, she’s writing this rhyme.

'You’re a comedian' she’s told, 'you are not aware,' a writer, psychologist, photographer she prefers.

Her thoughts skip a beat, jump ahead, internally feel knotted and heavy like lead.

Tangled and taut, a twisted mess, emotional breakdown required to rest.

She’s travelled the world-so how can she be, a condition that restricts, yet she is so free.

The spectrum line is so long and wide, vast as the ocean’s depth and end of tide.

Allow her more time, through this maze of life’s race, results are of quality, when left to her pace.

Autistic minds, notice patterns you can’t see, Now that’s intelligent-I’M SURE YOU AGREE

12) FLAT WHITE

Two words in a window script unfamiliar

meaning obscure.

Depressed pakeha? Antarctica? Café au lait!

Ah – Okay!

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13) HALLOWEEN REBELLION

Tiz your duty: Said the farmer, with a wicked grin

To be sliced, diced, picked clean from within Not a single seed or scrap of flesh must remain

You’ll be scraped clean and given a new name

Said the pumpkin:

That doesn’t sound very wholesome

Sliced, diced, picked clean, it sounds rather gruesome

As for the name, I see nothing wrong with Pumpkin

I’ll keep the name, and my flesh within my skin

Said the farmer:

Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing

I’ll make it quick, it’ll be over before you scream

I’m going to carve you into the best shape ever seen

You’ll have a candle inside, be the Hero of Halloween

Hero - Scoffed the pumpkin:

You can keep that prize

You don’t care for me, you only want me for my size

I tell you, enough is enough – leave us pumpkins alone

We are not your playthings, we have minds of our own

Said the Farmer:

But, we need a Jack-o-lantern there

It won’t be a Halloween party without one to share

People come from miles around to see the scary face

I’ve carved a Jack-o-lantern every year for my place

Well, in that case:

Said the Pumpkin with a wicked grin

Watermelons are easy to slice and pick clean from within

You can scrape the flesh and carefully remove every seed

Whilst you are carving, you can enjoy a sweet juicy feed

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14) IT’S GREAT TO BE OLD

Isn't it great to be old?

Christmas is here , we're full of cheer , or so I'm told

Sally army comes round to give me a pud.

It's great to be old or so I'm told

kids on bikes, mum’s on the gin , have a mince pie,

come on in!

It only happens once a year, want a ham sandwich?

have a beer!

Chocolates and crackers, trees and lights,

Nothing ever changes try as we might.

But remember the homeless, the sick, the cold,

Give them the chance to be glad they are old.

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15) LANDSCAPE

Remember when we were young scaling the mountain to reach its crater lake - you - faster than everyone else lit a cigarette at the top and beamed your crooked smile. It was the descent that frightened me, those loose stones a threat to send me flying. Yet I survived and it was you who did the dying.

Long nights I dreamed I could wade through thermal waters into Ruatapu Cave, morepork cries a signal I had entered the domain of Ruaumoko. In that god’s underworld I would wave fern fronds keening with all the sadness of lost years.

Today this bush reminds me that you were at ease with nature - it was I who loved the city’s drumbeat of distractions. In silence broken only by a susurrus of tree tops I speak your name and like a priestess raise my arms in benediction letting you go at last.

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16) L I G H T

Darkness pressed, pulsed.

Or was it the throbbing

of his wasted body?

Silence whispered, hissed.

Or was it his breath

sucking in, wheezing out?

He stirred, listening.

At the birdcall of dawn

he uncurled, struggling to sit.

He waited.

Then at sunrise he lifted his eyes

to watch with wonder

a single shaft of light

thrust like a sword between the shutters

forcefully dispatching the bleakness of night.

As banished shadows slid away,

shapes and hues emerged

into life and colour.

It was a new day.

He stood up.

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17) MOKO

As delicate as finest lace in cobalt lines on brown skin trace a story in each twist and turn, a wave and rope, a frond of fern. Past history he carries here a story he is proud to wear.

18) MY HEART

When I think of you, so young my heart grows fierce and strong

and longs to encompass you to form a hardened shield.

But, as you grow older

and the years propel you away reluctantly my heart must soften

become an elastic string.

Long

and

thin

it

Stretches

flexing over time and distance Bending but never broken Forever my heart will be

A link between you and me.

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19) ON HEARING THE FIRST MAGPIE IN SPRING

A Sonnet

The yodeling, chortling magpie’s summer call

when heard in spring gives lift to weary heart.

Now winter’s icy breath and grip will pall

and yodeling, chortling, strident birds soon dart

between the trees. Imperious black and white,

gimlet eyes and powerful beaks take station

to claim their spot and loudly force their rights.

Yet I forgive these lordly declarations.

Depressed by winter’s endless disadvantage.

When bud and flower and leaf are beyond ken,

know soon, the sun will step up winter wattage,

Announcing sure return of summer, when

I hear their yodel odel bold as brass.

Evocative as the smell of new mown grass.

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20) PARTNERS IN GRIME

Why do ants Walk together in a line

Going who knows where In perfect rhythm and rhyme

Why do bees

Fall from the sky To land on the pavement

And simply wait to die

Why do flies Find a way in

When everything is shut Still they always win

Why do roaches

Refuse to die Once sprayed all over Always crawl and hide

Why do mice

Steal the cheese The trap is sprung

But escape with ease

Why do I Live with these

Horrid little beasties They refuse to leave

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21) PUTTING UP THE TENT

Our tent

Such a fragile refuge

Searching for a site

Hazards?

Security light on a high pole, innocently blank now

ready to blaze through flimsy walls

when it’s time for its night-time performance

Not there

Trail bikes beside that tent

Boom box potential

Not there

Under that shady tree?

An innocent slope

guarantees airbed roll-together

Not there

Here!

Scour the ground

Five upended beer bottle tops

Jagged edges are tiny cookie cutters to slice the tent floor

Uplift them

Peg it down, anchor it

Our home

Such a fragile refuge

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22) SUNDAY MORNING IN THE KOWHAI TREE

Services begin at sunrise when dressed in lacy finery,

The congregation are flocking To perch in the pews of the kowhai tree.

The parson struts the guttering

in his clerical attire, delivering his sermon

accompanied by the boisterous choir.

And when the final hymns been sung, and all the blessings given.

They take to iridescent wings, an aerial display just for heaven.

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23) SUPERHERO AT THE MANGER

Spiderman watches

Toddlers gather round

a newborn baby in a basket

An angel in a white tutu

wings askew, leans to gaze with wonder

Mary gently strokes his head

Joseph tugs back his tea towel headdress

bends to play with tiny fingers

A shepherd in a dressing gown grins

as his Dad angles a camera

A sudden flash of red and black

startles the star of Bethlehem

standing proudly on a chair

He wobbles

Spiderman pushes into the circle

peers into the crib

Superhero at the manger

The baby gazes up at surrounding faces

His eyes shine at Spiderman

Welcome

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24) THE LADY OF THE BAY

Drive down her collarbone watching the water over her shoulders white-capped and gnashing to the north smooth and serene to the south ready for a picnic where her good mood lies. Well she used to be all about holidays - now she is older and more suburban. Retirees and young families nestle in her folds. Her one-legged body takes an age to drive down. She might get a prosthetic leg to speed up the commute. She floats in the Bay of Whales gazing out at the islands grinning with her pest proof smile. Come in darlings - No dogs allowed! Her hair teems with tui and golf balls. Bang! go her guns and her traps and the kererū and kākāriki flap.

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25) THE PEG OBSESSION

She had pegs for everything for the shade cloth over the buggy for her maternity pants that were falling off for closing up bags of rice and pasta. She pegged together their family held everyone close with plastic and wire meant for something else; quite good if it didn’t fade in the sunlight and fall apart. She pegged together the solutions and the parties – brought people together and strung them up on the washing line with extra pegs if they were prone to misbehave. When she started to come undone she pegged up her sides but her motivation fell out. She pegged up her dreams but the wind blew them away and she wondered if she didn’t have pegs for everything.

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26) THE FIGMENT

creep creep over the hills into the darkness I glide past the people I am a character in someone's imagination I hear the laughter as I sneak I see the ease as they joke I am a stick girl pointy and vulnerable without teeth for smiling creep creep creep someone stop me hug me allow me to be not just in a dark cave where my body becomes the air unseen

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27) THE STING OF DEATH DENIED

Dust to dust, they have said,

Brings me nothing, but deep despair,

Contemplating who my spirit receive,

Should I know, I’ll be relieved.

Await my end I am told,

Waste not, my precious soul.

In His arms, I’ll find my rest,

As He waits to give me, His very best.

Dare I believe,

Or allow trials and tribulations to deceive,

Life’s challenges unable to defeat.

Let’s drink, let’s drug, let’s be merry,

Let’s pervert the justice of the afflicted, oh life’s so scary.

Give strong drink and I will perish,

I am of bitter heart, nothing to cherish.

I will forget and remember my misery and sorrow no more,

I’ve laid bare my pain, my soul I did pour.

Aah, aah, along came my gallant Knight, my handsome beau,

He rescued me with His words of love so true.

Now I live life refreshed as the morning dew,

I am alive, full of life, feeling ever so new.

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28) SOLOMON’S LOVE SONG

I am dark and so lovely, my kindreds my loves,

Like the tents of Kedar, a covering of Cedar.

I am dark by the sun have I been tanned,

Not by the hands of humans have I been made,

But by His Pierced Hands, a price He so willingly paid.

Tell me O’ whom I love,

Am I in Your eyes beheld like a dove?

So why should it be I who veils herself,

While the flock of Your companions make their presence felt.

If you do not know O’ fairest among women,

It’s your love and companion I have chosen,

I would rather lay in your tender bosom,

And not in the arms of ice maidens so frozen.

I have compared you, my love, my beautiful one,

To My filly, My feisty one.

Your cheeks are lovely like ornaments aglow,

Your neck with chains of different assortments for show.

Adorned with studs of silver and gold,

A heritage befitting a queen I am told.

So there He is my rugged beloved,

A chief among ten thousand uncovered.

His head like the finest gold,

His locks between my fingers unfold.

His eyes like pearls so fitly set,

Like fountains and rivers of water so uniquely met.

His body, carved ivory inlaid with sapphires,

His legs like pillars of marble sets my heart on fire.

His countenance, a fresh breeze, O’ so sunny,

His mouth so sweet, his lips like dripping honey,

I’m lovesick, I tell you, it’s not funny.

This is my beloved O’ daughters of my Father,

What more can I ask for, if not Him, then I falter,

And my life lay waste on the adulterous alter.

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29) THIS MERE MORTAL

Sweat-drenched hair and shirt. Intent, as he honed, hewed, pondered and wondered until the shapes became. Creative power free, as he sculpt the belly of this once mighty tree. With magic in his hands and love in his heart Papa Tuanuku mother earth, and Rangi sky father, took part, joined by Ua the rain - Rangi’s teardrops and

Ra, the powerful sun.

Earth sat firmly twixt sky and sun and the game of light and dark frolicked like happy children around and about these legendary forces of nature. The spirit of ‘Tane,’ upright and strong prevailed in the powerful bird-like head - direction intense.

Fueled by the strength of his spiritual belief, he defined the landscape of his fantasy.

Inner compulsion and personal satisfaction - fulfilled. He smiled – observation shared, my interest accepted.

“Flower baskets will hang from its boughs and enhance the symbols of beauty,” he vowed The essence of their Mana, the Harmony ,the give and take, fused with Te Mauri Ora, the flow of well-being its

cultural heart-beat. We quietly enjoyed the moment and the magic of imagination.

30) SPRING (Haiku Japanese 3-line poems) Suddenly it’s there A bouquet of clematis Showing off its spring dress

31) DAPPLED SKY Sun-down dappled sky Slivers of silver and black Mackerel night clouds

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32) WISHES

What would it be if I could see

Only one thing before I die…

My mother's face , so full of grace

or my child still young and free?

So many moments of joy I could choose

So many yet to be had

How can I make a decision like this?

Many reasons I've had to be glad

Chocolate , fine wine, a view of the sea,

the warmth of my Baby's breath?

The comfort of friends in my darker days

are memories that linger beneath,

So how would I choose as I go to rest?

My soul rising up to the sky,

my family around to hold my hand,

and a slice of Mums Apple Pie!

33) TANKA 1 (Japanese for “short songs”, 5 lines, no title)

Mauve jacarandas

there – harbinger of Christmas.

Here, pohutukawas

Bleed red like my heart

trying to be festive.

34) TANKA 2

Spider’s web

swaying in the wind

delicate as a doyley –

I hope the windowcleaner

appreciates it too.