Slice cheese onto bread and turn on the grill. Pour some milk into a pan and simmer gently. The person you love will follow you, and so will the moon. Then take their hand in slow motion and walk to the kitchen. Just look at them in the moonlight, and let them look at you. Besides, you are the one who was left alone in the night. Don’t ask them if they’re okay because they will just say ‘Yeah’. The person you love will be out there, staring at the moon and not crying. If there is no garden, check the balcony. If there is no light on in the house, it is important that you check the garden. They will look up and say ‘Hello’ and smile at you like you’re some kind of lost baby animal. The person you love will probably be making human body parts out of plasticine, or playing video games. Nine times out of ten, a light will be on and you will walk into the living room, squinting. It is only natural to feel confused, and alone. It is also only natural for your pyjamas to be all crumpled and your hair sticking up at the back. When the person you love leaves you in the night, it is only natural to get out of bed and follow them. Tui keeps singing all the buried bones to lifeĪnd you’re opening every can of beans in the cupboard We don’t know what’s for dinner but next door’s My feet don’t touch the ground these daysĪnd I don’t know if I should email her backĪlready the skeleton wings of this year are casting long shadows The angels found your address submerged in yesterday’s current The brick square flat beneath a rectangle sky There isn’t enough room in this house to house our love She hates it when my wet hair drips all over the bedsheets She hates it when institutions use Te Reo in their signatures Grateful thanks and aroha to all the poets, publishers and readers who have supported my season of themes. You can leave a comment on the blog, on FB or Twitter: Which theme resonated for you? What theme do you suggest if I should ever do this again? Or just email me if you have my address.
To celebrate the end of my theme season I have ten copies of Wild Honey: Reading New Zealand Women’s Poetry to give away. As readers, writers, publishers, reviewers, booksellers of poetry, we are connected through a shared and invigorating love of poetry. For the possibility of the line, silence, music, physical detail. In what is written and, just as importantly, in the infectious love poets feel for the power of words. So many poetry books in Aotearoa are steeped in love. Love poetry can embrace many subjects, moods, objects, experiences, relationships. There is the love of reading and writing stretching back to childhood. It’s the reason I keep two blogs running when, at times, it seems impossible. I chose love because love is the ink in my pen, it drives the pencil filling my notebooks.
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