The Rubbish Tip
For all the clever talk and writing
The real evidence is not inviting.
A few rogue acts of utter brilliance
Hide not the whole woeful existence.
Now take each item in that tip -
Its time of usefulness did slip.
Though remnant of some glorious act
Who's going to listen to that fact?
That rotting Kauri fits the bill.
Restored a Church on Bombay Hill
Salvaged from swamp and demolition,
What's left now others' motivation?
Posts on drums and tyres all sizes
Cut-off concrete culvert risers.
Hoppers, tanks and old truck chassis
Even cars that once pulled lassies.
Huge forty footer steel container
Chocker full of all that's over,
Railway wagons store the good bits.
That's games' gear and the tool kits.
That rubbish tip for all to see
Their museum of his inactivity.
Moving On from would be Theme Park Host to would be Poet
"Look on these works you mighty and despair"
How true the remnants of life's work appear
To all who follow now in their chair
As nothing more nor less than "he was here."
The things of crass materialism are
But passing props to plays and not a mar
Where positive perception penetrates afar
And imagination puts a genie in the jar.
The spirit of the life those props allowed
Lives on in heart and soul for those endowed
Time will take its toll on all that's done it's bit.
Who cares what judgment now attends that tip
Be it Baxter's, Burn's or Byron's battered body
Each in his way captured his bit of posterity
Taking short cuts to the grave. But not in mind;
Their rubbish tips most precious for mankind.
Under some duress, I sold my "Garden of Eden" property as a "buffer zone" for the new Auckland metropolitan water treatment plant.
Mark how the ford affords
An opportunity to walk on water.
To suck it in at Whangarata and
Piss it out round our fine harbours.
Screw me you peddlers in peoples' defecations
Panderers to the philanders' concrete jungles
Pump water through cisterns and systems
And obliterate the complimentary visions.