The Wind Before The Rains

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ROGER SMITH ‐ THE SINGAPORE POEMS

THE WIND BEFORE THE RAINS


The Xmas Shell

Above the bureau radiant your orange pink lips opening to translucent orange and tales of Kenyan times when the rule of the Raj a white flex to the motherland destroyed your smooth corrugations In Papua we buried the likes of you letting the ants devour your innards disinterring your carcass to let it shine once more varnished by the caress of the sea Roger Smith August 2009


On Looking Down

On looking down at hands that belonged to my grandfather The wrinkling skin and folds with street map complexity in a time, at a time six months from the burial of innocence and invincibility Is this body the one that traps the spirit alive, refreshed, contained a mind that notes the falls and thinning friends of time and place On looking up at best for thirty years folding my thoughts within the sandwich of opportunity on the tablecloth of time

Roger Smith February 2004


I've been assaulted by food

I've been assaulted by food from health once decidedly rude all thanks due to pisang and kueh keuh and like my stomach's distended and I'd fall off a bike I've been assaulted by food I've been seduced by good food from morning to night it's the mood with promise of bau that just won't go away and a nagging suspicion that one day I'll pay I've been seduced by good food I have been poisoned by food laid low to a bug tough and crude Was it the curry or chili or spice? or coconut left in the sun just a thrice? to be able to rise from my bed would be nice I have been poisoned by food I will rise from my sick bed again stride forth through the food stalls and then probably settle for pure juice, yoghurt and fruit with lashing of chocolate and thick cream to boot I've been assaulted by food

Roger Smith February 2007


The Wind Before The Rains

The wind before the rains coolly announcing

the passing of sun

anticipation that the still

will be broken

precipitation that thrills the soul with its cleansing

Rain without the winds

that I remember still from lives before

and passing time

for dreaming

Roger Smith January 2007


Epiha Road

Black mussels spitting their juice on corrugated iron over the slow fire of time

Straight from the shell plump pink with tiny crabs entombed

Blackberries picked on the dusty road rutted sand rocking grey of the Morris laden down

Black sand of the wild beach slow cooling and a Taranaki sky bare reefs exposed to a quarter moon Black armbands now for memories of picnic blankets rusty hooks and seaweed popping slow to burn, slow to burn Roger Smith January 2003


Black Sands

And so he said shall I upon a summers night in Waitara town walk upon the black sands

cool to the toe shuffling underneath to feel the tuatua burrowing away from the advancing tide

bleached white ewe skulls emerging above high water mark brought down by rivers flow scattered amongst driftwood their upward arms towards a menacing sky

Roger Smith March 2009


Singapore Haiku

Roger Smith July 2008


I Walk Alone

I often walk alone through the black sands of memory fleet footed past twisted driftwood of thoughts on a fast running tide

Jagging at the blood shoot and the sound of steam whistles mutton on the chain and then again silver finned catches chasing whitebait over the painted pole

Faintly now the sound of wild West Coat surf sublime receding from place and time

Far away and further still from Egmont's cone cold winds upon the breath of Tasman storms

Roger Smith December 2007


Moth Mortis

The moth that died in the library withered and frail from a life full of freedom and flight beyond the pale moon in the tropical night

Spread thin on the carpet of hope rough textured dreams towards the light

Roger Smith January 2007


The Girl With Sad Eyes

The small girl with sad eyes watching the fleet winged clouds pink bag and mangy teddy tucked behind Empty thoughts on a vacant lot and a frayed umbrella propping up her confidence Roger Smith 2008


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