I think of water
salt and fresh
rain and wave
spring and snow
I think of tears
the sea is blue
the sky is blue
lakes and rivers and
your eyes are blue
what else?
on my windowsill
my tea caddy, my teapot, a vase
and nestled deep in memory
your willow pattern plates
your cornishware jars
and my eyes and Billy’s eyes
and your eyes
all blue
all together
in a small dark wooden house
blue is the colour of love
and I lose myself
in its deep waters
now, in my garden
there grows borage and thyme
lavender, sage and rosemary
ajuga, hydrangea, lobelia
and delphinium
for years now
I have been cultivating
food for the belly and the eye
for the heart and the soul
it all comes back
to our eyes
the windows to our souls
and all the earth’s water
the eyes of this land
and our blue planet
seen from space
as if the universe was watching
holding one eye closed
the blue sea I was born in
has condensed into tears
tears that hold the history
of my ocean birth
tears drying into salt crystals
that crumble between
my roughened fingertips
pomegranate juice trails behind me
my gift to the sea
I bite down hard on the seeds
and crawl across rocks
to reach the shore
and there, as I lie nestled in the sand
schist and quartz pebbles
clutched in my hand
bones bleached white in the sun
I think of you
are your colours so different?
I came ashore
with nothing more
than the skin
my mother dressed me in
do you see?
we are all tears and blood and bone
open the door
take these stones from my hand
hold me and welcome me home
Sorting through some papers I found notes for a poem – at first I had no idea what they were about – though I was fascinated to see my thinking and editing at work while I was writing. Then the words “One Million Poets” registered – and it all made sense.
This was a poem I started at the end of last year/beginning of this – but never finished. Recent events make it so much more relevant. Working closely with the initial notes, these notes became “Tears” – a poem for immigrants, refugees, anyone seeking a home. (I’m intrigued by the cloud formation I unintentionally captured to the left of the poem – what does it look like to you?).
The “One Million Poets” project was begun by World Poetry Open Mic to address “feelings of separation” and to “share messages from the hearts of real people”.
If you’re interested in this, go to the link above, and offer a poem. The following is from their website:
How To Get Involved
Write (or decide to cover) a poem that resonates with you with a some sort of message about community, humanity, and love for all of humankind.
Create a simple video or audio recording of you reading it to the camera. In your video, challenge three other people to do the same within three days.
Upload your video or audio to YouTube (video) or Soundcloud (audio). Make sure to write “One Million Poets” in the title. Also, if you use hashtags, make sure to use #Onemillionpoetsin your description and tag section.
Citation: Basil Keane, ‘Tāwhirimātea – the weather – Rain’,
Te Ara – the Encyclopedia of New Zealand, http://www.TeAra.govt.nz/en/tawhirimatea-the-weather/page-4
(accessed 13 November 2016)
Full story by Basil Keane, published 12 Jun 2006
tears fly
like a thousand birds
into a midnight sky
I hold your voice
in the palm of my hand
my skin vibrates
with every breath
your words surround me
confront and shelter
the essence of what it means to be male
expressed in every husky rumble
and nuanced vowel
my very bones are shaking
as your low tones reverberate, resonate
my dreams are waking
from the dread I’ve carried
that you’d soon be gone
its been nothing but rain and fog
for two whole days
while you climbed the stairs
to your tower of song
I’ve lit a candle
I’ll keep it burning
I don’t want it any darker
invisible necessity 