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2021 SummerT3POETS

Three Poems

By March 5, 2021March 20th, 2024No Comments
Sea-spray Over the Rocks, 1907, by Fred Brockett. Purchased 1957. Te Papa

© Sea-spray Over the Rocks, 1907, by Fred Brockett. Purchased 1957. Te Papa

Egg Timers

this basement

  of dreams

            distorting

         contorting

                    bloating

                         sand                sand

                                                       sand

                         in my

                                           mouth mouth

                                   mouth under

                                   tongue in

                                    teeth

                                              remember boiling

                                           seas

                                            remember falling into

                                         fat cream

                                       skies

 

                                         remember you

                                                  falling

                                                       falling

                                                                   up

                 (pre – time  hourless  glass           this mindlessness  under  sheets in       limbo  in liminal      in)

                                                                    run

                                                                          7:30AM

                                                                                  sun warmed plates

                                                                                       tomatoes cleaved in two

                                                                                            like red suns or clocks

                                                                                                tasting sour time

                                                                                                     between these yellow teeth

                                                                                                          secondsecondsecondsecond

                                                                                                                        yellow eggs running

 

Part Two

                                                                                                                          throwing keys on

                                                                                                                                  the table

                                                                                                                      switch lights

                                                                                                                  car switch

                                                                                                              rushing doors

                                                                                                                    head on like

                                                                                                             bulls

                                                                                                           and

                                                                                          polystyrene crunching

                                                                                                       sweet and sour pork

                                                                                     lips jiggle

                                                                                teeth sand

 

                                                                             and then

                                                                           aching limbs

(a chair      by     the  fire                   a stroke   of    the fur              mulled         voices   mulling)

 

                                                                     return

                                                               dreams of

                                                            b a se ment

                 falling

        into the

sea

 

 

Lorry Heaven

Location: Unknown

On boat

On foot

On lorry

They always find a way

 

a 26-year-old woman from Ha Tinh

a 20-year-old man from Ha Tinh

a 35-year-old man from Ha Tinh

a 19-year-old man from Ha Tinh

a 37-year-old man from Ha Tinh

an 18-year-old man from Ha Tinh

a 25-year-old man from Ha Tinh

a 33-year-old man from Ha Tinh

a 37-year-old man from Ha Tinh

 

Zeebrugge 2.49pm Tuesday

Promises of gold mines

the running of cash

blue lands

ample labour

and

 

a

              white container              so white

 

                             and                 big           it looks like

 

                                               heaven

                       drive me away   to                  heaven

Grays 1.40am Wednesday

They think it’s pork meat or chicken meat

or beef

but it’s human meat, fresh

off the boat kind, flung

over each other in mounds of flesh, eating

their own tepid breaths

 

a 15-year-old boy from Ha Tinh

a 21-year-old woman from Nghe An

a 19-year-old woman from Nghe An

a 28-year-old man from Nghe An

a 26-year-old man from Nghe An

a 30-year-old man from Nghe An

a 19-year-old woman from Nghe An

a 33-year-old man from Nghe An

an 18-year-old man from Nghe An

 

To be 19 and in a refrigerated lorry

while opportunity and freedom is

     just    beyond     the teeth

to swallow shallow breaths and grainy darkness in

a moving icebox

 

Hypoxia (oxygen deprivation), hypothermia (overheating)

 

a 37-year-old man from Nghe An

a 33-year-old man from Nghe An

an 18-year-old woman from Nghe An

a 20-year-old man from Nghe An

a 44-year-old man from Dien Chau

a 28-year-old woman from Nghe An

a 24-year-old man from Nghe An

a 25-year-old man from Nghe An

a 22-year-old man from Nghe An

 

Bui Thi Phuong, 25, lights incense at a makeshift shrine

 

 

 

gallery voices

i see

a gallery

of silence

and pixels

 

these saccadic eyes

    zoom

                    zoom

zoom

 

then a gush of

lapis lazuli

here a milkmaid

trapped within

squares within

eyes

 

here

she dribbles

in white

sheen           sheen

wet linen

as white

light

as bread

opened

as pink           pink

the flush

a baby

as milk

as skin            skin

 

up close

tiny strings

of paint

weave a

tapestry of

apparition

 

 

(and Vermeer

was here in

gossamer streaks,

a ghostly hand

beyond the grave)

 

waterfall of

infinity

milk drums

plop plop plop

a waterfall

of walls

 

a maid

made of

cream flesh

a room

made of

cream walls

 

froths of

light on

tip of

forehead

on index finger

on tendons

of arm

 

i am

in 17th

century

netherlands

a servant of

linen watching

a servant of

milk

 

she dribbles

in white

sheen            sheen

wet linen

as white

light

as bread

opened

as pink             pink

the flush

a baby

as milk

as skin               skin

 

(Vermeer was

here in

gossamer streaks,

a ghostly hand

beyond the grave)

Han Mai Nguyen

Han Mai Nguyen is a graduate student at the University of Auckland with a BA in English and Communications. Her poem ‘Lorry Heaven’ will be published in A Clear Dawn: New Asian Voices from Aotearoa New Zealand – her first publishing credit. Now that she’s finished studying, she spends her time wondering what to do next and attempting to write without a deadline.