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Poetry competition entries 2018 : Str-art-o/ Pacific Soaring

August 24, 2018


I don’t really do art.
But four days ago I sort of did.
I remembered art at least, in a rather
Round-about sort of a way.
The plane trees outside of gallery, and the steps
Up the hill. A duality of continental proportions.

Casper David Friedrich.
It wasn’t even there when I visited.
‘The Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog.’
Had gone for a wander itself.

Arriving months later.
Above ramshackle timber frames,
Canoe races and pop,
I saw it.

I guess he walked to me himself.

© Jonah Franke-Bowell


Pacific Soaring – A Flight

Travellers cleave the Polynesian triangle in two

From Waikiki sands to Manukau mud.

A saline puddle, across it spans an aeon,

For many an identity.

From seat 34A

in the half heavens,

The pseudo puddle appears:

Melded. Sky-sea, sea-sky.


“No.” Only below.

Salted beyond consumption, although the sustenance

Of the some who mitigate the isolation.

For them it is but merely a puddle.


Two and a half hands wide,

Four high.

The rim encroaches upon the pastels

Of nations.

Earth riddled in the lower reaches,

Bare, barren in the upper.

The kōrero of Hawaiki lives on.

In the pen of a cartographer,

With scale and shipping lanes too.

Settled to conquer the beat,

Beat, rhythm of the blue.

The travail of culture embodied

Upon card.

© Jonah Franke-Bowell

From → Competitions

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