The Pohutukawa Tree Poem in Heritage Matters Magazine Issue 17
I drunk you as a love potion,
as you hung from rafters
though I knew nothing
of Maori weapons, grapples, or fence posts;
but your Honey and Mead was delicious.
Crimson flowers filled my dreams,
as I gazed,
watching ship rats eating your lavish buds,
or agreeable children playing pretend sheep,
below red flowers in a wool shed pen.
as I gazed,
watching ship rats eating your lavish buds,
or agreeable children playing pretend sheep,
below red flowers in a wool shed pen.
With even shifts of wind,
your flowers flutter
the blossoms incite frenzied feeding for honey bees.
Leaves have inflammable essential oils;
branches are cylindrical,
scarcely compressed,
brownish, covered
with short white matted hair.
Your capsules open, releasing new seeds
catching the soft breezes,
a minute lot;
stop,
stick and
germinate in cracks or crevices.
your flowers flutter
the blossoms incite frenzied feeding for honey bees.
Leaves have inflammable essential oils;
branches are cylindrical,
scarcely compressed,
brownish, covered
with short white matted hair.
Your capsules open, releasing new seeds
catching the soft breezes,
a minute lot;
stop,
stick and
germinate in cracks or crevices.
You, a boat builders dream for knees and elbows,
your elongated cells have travelled the seas.
Your massive roots are craggy,
creeping over exposed rocks;
penetrating,
reaching down,
they cling.
your elongated cells have travelled the seas.
Your massive roots are craggy,
creeping over exposed rocks;
penetrating,
reaching down,
they cling.
James MacKenzie 1855-1856
Poem published in Memories Magazine Issue 76
Poem published in Memories Magazine Issue 76
 |
| Photo of James Mackenzie's dog Friday. |
and dewy flats lie
a lone shepherd with a dog
cast a thoughtful eye
the stockman walked a rugged route
above the tawny grass
James MacKenzie herding sheep
from north of Timaru
by Dunstan Ranges
through Lindis Pass
was the route he took them through
An overseer saw him
and with two Maori tied him up
as the strong eyed dog Friday
ran like a frightened pup
Then MacKenzie made his own escape
below the mountain tops
but one hundred miles north at Lyttelton
was recaptured by the cops
and with two Maori tied him up
as the strong eyed dog Friday
ran like a frightened pup
Then MacKenzie made his own escape
below the mountain tops
but one hundred miles north at Lyttelton
was recaptured by the cops
He went to court a Scottish man
accused of stealing sheep
where he yawned or muttered Gaelic
while looking half asleep
accused of stealing sheep
where he yawned or muttered Gaelic
while looking half asleep
Twice he escaped from capture
but didn’t get away
the public cried their sympathy
and wanted to have their say
five years hard labour
was finally quashed
and a Magistrate pardoned him
but didn’t get away
the public cried their sympathy
and wanted to have their say
five years hard labour
was finally quashed
and a Magistrate pardoned him
And it was true and it was odd
how James and dog would fade from view
how James and dog would fade from view
By the gate we waited;we talked of the rain
and the rotting kumara
that were jammed hard down
in the wet black soil.
We sometimes
slanted our woollen
covered heads to the north.
Looked for the battered bus,
bought broken down,
a year ago.
appeared below
some wilting yellow trees,
above the far roadside.
He descended,
from about five metres up,
came over and talked
of the pittance he earned
in the eastern valley.
some wilting yellow trees,
above the far roadside.
We were distracted
by a sparrow hawk
flapping close by,
making small headway,
its eyes fixed downward
before dropping from the sky.
flapping close by,
making small headway,
its eyes fixed downward
before dropping from the sky.
The bus finally appeared,
coming slowly.
It was the day we lost our job.
It was the day we lost our job.
+deer+cut.JPG)
A hind bellows a fretting sound
as she stumbles onto bush clear ground,
then bolts away up a track.
A hunter goes in her wake.
But the deer barks to let the others know
that behind her follows deadly Joe,
with .303 Enfield, wood cut back.
The hunter struggles
to the top of the Teatree Track
to peer down at the gully below.
as she stumbles onto bush clear ground,
then bolts away up a track.
A hunter goes in her wake.
But the deer barks to let the others know
that behind her follows deadly Joe,
with .303 Enfield, wood cut back.
The hunter struggles
to the top of the Teatree Track
to peer down at the gully below.
the shooter looks for a big red doe
to shoot, or dreams of a twelve-point stag.
to shoot, or dreams of a twelve-point stag.
Or sweeps through the bush, with a rifle butt,
or stops with a green-river knife to gut
a deer fallen from the sky;
or should I say, a ridge up high,
that another deer culler shot?
or stops with a green-river knife to gut
a deer fallen from the sky;
or should I say, a ridge up high,
that another deer culler shot?
He puts the small deer on his back
then walks along a slippery track,
on a journey to a decrepit shack.
then walks along a slippery track,
on a journey to a decrepit shack.
He eats and sleeps, and tells stories of woe,
or dreams of wild dogs, brindle and black,
sleeping in holes or logs, making bones crack.
or dreams of wild dogs, brindle and black,
sleeping in holes or logs, making bones crack.
In the hut, the hunter thinks of these things,
as he eats spuds, bread or wild turkey roast.
as he eats spuds, bread or wild turkey roast.
Some modern hunters ride the chain,
look down at a view of hoof-running
venison stew, while chopper pilots show their skill
In Hughes 300 or 5.
look down at a view of hoof-running
venison stew, while chopper pilots show their skill
In Hughes 300 or 5.
A few years before
a face full of sun,
a plane pilot made a septic run,
as nature almost claimed his life,
scraping rushes and boulders, and the odd tree trunk.
A Cessna continued to fly and bump
to the last place it could land
a face full of sun,
a plane pilot made a septic run,
as nature almost claimed his life,
scraping rushes and boulders, and the odd tree trunk.
A Cessna continued to fly and bump
to the last place it could land
Or five hundred pounds or more on a horses,
as it stamps and puffs up through the gorse,
leaving you struggling behind his rump.
as it stamps and puffs up through the gorse,
leaving you struggling behind his rump.
He carries those deer that start to slump.
Two on each side, and two on his back,
he pulls you along, holding onto his tail.
Two on each side, and two on his back,
he pulls you along, holding onto his tail.
Some men come to the bush
in jeeps, cars, or a crappy truck-
anything to carry a hind or a buck.
in jeeps, cars, or a crappy truck-
anything to carry a hind or a buck.
The story finishes with over eighty dead
on deer recovery, they said,
risking their life to make a shilling.
on deer recovery, they said,
risking their life to make a shilling.
Raw and willing.
It was cold and windy, wet and bleak
up on the hills I went to seek
A lamb and it’s mother out in the rain
To be part of nature and refrain,
From human comfort of my own.
With a horse and a dog and a crock in
hand and an oilskin coat I roamed the land
Dogs ahead and horse up tight, the flash
of lightning blurred the sight
For where were those sheep I wanted
to know, out in the rain or out in the snow
Behind a thicket or behind a stone
I was the rider who took them home.
The Farm Job Poem published in Poetry New Zealand magazine Issue 43
When I arrived,
I saw two boys
climbing in the trees.
A dog sat in the driveway.
It was shaggy looking,
with pixie shaped ears.
The sun sliced my eyes
from the trees above.
Then through my blurred vision
I saw an old man approaching.
Eight months later
I wished I hadn’t come.
The old man’s heart failed.
The Unexpected Onslaught
In the hills, we drove down the staircase track.
The arduous route led us across two small bridges, high
above a ravine.
above a ravine.
A confluence of streams dispersed segments of spray that
penetrated the air. The main river then flowed parallel to
the track, before going off on another journey.
We could see a few sheep on the left bank that were
laden with huge amounts of wool. These must
have missed the straggle muster the driver said.
There was a water table under the bank. It was about
half a meter wide and had mostly dried up.
Once, the driver drove unthinkingly close to the precipice,
where the tyres argued simultaneously with the track,
before skidding back to a more sturdy location.
Further on, we could see people in rolling grassland,
dressed in tired brown, or green tunics that swamped
their size. Children played with long ropes, jumping
over them, or swinging them about.
dressed in tired brown, or green tunics that swamped
their size. Children played with long ropes, jumping
over them, or swinging them about.
Others played games that were unidentifiable. Four
men stood, slicing turf in a garden, as a woman
moved about, close to thatched huts.
On reaching the lowlands, we were flanked by cold,
craggy mountains.
The occupants of the region rushed over, pushing and
pulling at the Rover; they glared at us with
narrowed eyes.
Each of us gaped back, wincing, our torsos hunched
up, giving off stilted shudders.
Then, the Rover lurched forward, with spinning wheels
that threw dirt backwards. The whole vehicle
that threw dirt backwards. The whole vehicle
rocked to the left and then we spun around, returning
to the direction of the track.
Each of us let out a shaky breath as chaotic thoughts
Each of us let out a shaky breath as chaotic thoughts
rattled around in our heads. The driver had enough
grit in his voice to tell us he wouldn't be returning in a
hurry. He mouthed, wow, before his face went
blank. But then, he scrubbed a hand down his
face to hide a smile. Thanks for the
clarification, said a voice full of
sarcasm. The person in the
front passengers seat
snorted while glancing
from object to object
on the dash board,
The idea of their solitude seemed slightly deranged,
were the only other concluding words amongst us.
40 Chippendale Crescent
Palmerston North
( 06 ) 3552861
jjfagan26@gmail.com
