Including 50 poems by revered New Zealand poet and social activist James K. Baxter, this unique and accessibly sized collection offers an insider's view of the man and his work from his longtime friend and fellow poet Sam Hunt. With a range of familiar and lesser-known poems dating from 1945 to 1972, and a substantial essay by Hunt, this compilation offers a fresh and very personal look at the work of an extraordinarily influential poet.
Including 50 poems by revered New Zealand poet and social activist James K. Baxter, this unique and accessibly sized collection offers an insider's view of the man and his work from his longtime friend and fellow poet Sam Hunt. With a range of familiar and lesser-known poems dating from 1945 to 1972, and a substantial essay by Hunt, this compilation offers a fresh and very personal look at the work of an extraordinarily influential poet.
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Overview
Including 50 poems by revered New Zealand poet and social activist James K. Baxter, this unique and accessibly sized collection offers an insider's view of the man and his work from his longtime friend and fellow poet Sam Hunt. With a range of familiar and lesser-known poems dating from 1945 to 1972, and a substantial essay by Hunt, this compilation offers a fresh and very personal look at the work of an extraordinarily influential poet.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781775580966 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Auckland University Press |
| Publication date: | 11/01/2013 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 120 |
| File size: | 2 MB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
James K. Baxter
Poems
By James K. Baxter
Auckland University Press
Copyright © 2009 James K. Baxter TrustAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-86940-434-5
CHAPTER 1
HIGH COUNTRY WEATHER
Alone we are born
And die alone;
Yet see the red-gold cirrus
Over snow-mountain shine.
Upon the upland road
Ride easy, stranger:
Surrender to the sky
Your heart of anger.
4 OCTOBER 1945
NEVER NO MORE
Oh the summer's afloat on spindrift beaches
Brown as bread in a holiday heaven:
The same sweet lie the lupin teaches
As always dropping her gay pollen
On a girl's print frock leg shoulder bare
Never no more never no more.
The boys climb to their branch-high houses
Under a black bridge dive for pennies
The noon cloud like a bird's breast downy
Night come cool as a hawthorn berry
Kite tails tied on a telephone wire
Never no more never no more.
Cigarette stink from a hole in the rushes
Dark as a dunny the under-runner
The green flax plaited for whiplashes
Cockabully finned with the fire of summer
Jack loves Jill on the garage door
Never no more never no more.
The trodden path in the brambles led
Sweet and sure to a lifted frock
To the boathouse spree and the hayloft bed
A hamstrung heart and no way back:
Like a toetoe arrow shot in the air
Never no more never no more.
1952
LAMENT FOR BARNEY FLANAGAN
Licensee of the Hesperus Hotel
Flanagan got up on a Saturday morning,
Pulled on his pants while the coffee was warming;
He didn't remember the doctor's warning,
'Your heart's too big, Mr Flanagan.'
Barney Flanagan, sprung like a frog
From a wet root in an Irish bog –
May his soul escape from the tooth of the dog!
God have mercy on Flanagan.
Barney Flanagan R.I.P.
Rode to his grave on Hennessy's
Like a bottle-cork boat in the Irish Sea.
The bell-boy rings for Flanagan.
Barney Flanagan, ripe for a coffin,
Eighteen stone and brandy-rotten,
Patted the housemaid's velvet bottom –
'Oh, is it you, Mr Flanagan?'
The sky was bright as a new milk token.
Bill the Bookie and Shellshock Hogan
Waited outside for the pub to open –
'Good day, Mr Flanagan.'
At noon he was drinking in the lounge bar corner
With a sergeant of police and a racehorse owner
When the Angel of Death looked over his shoulder –
'Could you spare a moment, Flanagan?'
Oh the deck was cut; the bets were laid;
But the very last card that Barney played
Was the Deadman's Trump, the bullet of Spades –
'Would you like more air, Mr Flanagan?'
The priest came running but the priest came late
For Barney was banging at the Pearly Gate.
St Peter said, 'Quiet! You'll have to wait
For a hundred masses, Flanagan.'
The regular boys and the loud accountants
Left their nips and their seven-ounces
As chickens fly when the buzzard pounces –
'Have you heard about old Flanagan?'
Cold in the parlour Flanagan lay
Like a bride at the end of her marriage day.
The Waterside Workers Band will play
A brass goodbye to Flanagan.
While publicans drink their profits still,
While lawyers flock to be in at the kill,
While Aussie barmen milk the till
We will remember Flanagan.
For Barney had a send-off and no mistake.
He died like a man for his country's sake;
And the Governor-General came to his wake.
Drink again to Flanagan!
Despise not, O Lord, the work of Thine own hands
And let light perpetual shine upon him.
1953
BY THE DRY CARDRONA
I can tell where cherries grow
By the dry Cardrona,
Where I plucked them long ago
On a day when I was sober.
My father wore a parson's coat
By the dry Cardrona;
He kept a tally of the sheep and the goats,
And I was never sober.
My mother sewed her Sunday skirt
By the dry Cardrona,
They said she died of a broken heart
For I was never sober.
O lay my bones till the judgement crack
By the wild Cardrona!
The blanket swag upon my back
Will pillow me drunk or sober.
I loved a girl and only one
By the dry Cardrona:
She up and married the banker's son
For I was never sober.
I courted a widow of forty-nine
By the dry Cardrona,
She owned a stable and a scheelite mine
But I was never sober.
All rivers run to the rimless grave,
Even the wild Cardrona,
But the black cherry bent my way
One day when I was sober.
1956
SINGS CLARRY
(Denis Glover)
Hagley Park on a Sunday
Or Auckland's One Tree Hill,
I have worn my boots out walking
And I still will,
sings Clarry.
You think you're pretty smart,
But a cat has nine lives.
The barman's fart
Smelt of onions and chives,
sings Clarry at the beer pump.
They wouldn't give it to me
Though she left it in her will,
But my mother's kauri breadboard
Belongs to me still,
sings Clarry.
That's One-Legged Clarry,
He'll go to hell and back.
Take a look at the breadboard
Tied on to his pack.
'I feel sorry for him,'
Flossie the barman said.
'What use is a breadboard
If you haven't any bread?'
I knew when I was coming round the bend
That I would find a breadboard in the end,
sings Clarry.
1956
TURN, TURN THE CAPSTAN
Turn, turn the capstan, boys,
Sings the one-eyed sailor.
Sew the rich man's overcoat,
Hums the bandy tailor.
Pin, pin the washing up,
Sighs the scrubbing lady.
Dig for a bone, says the little black dog
Down in the garden shady.
Push, push the brushes through,
Calls John at the top of the chimney.
Wind the clock, wind the clock,
Says Grandad tall and spindly.
Milk, milk, milk the cow
Sings the farmer's daughter.
Sleep, sleep, all the day,
Says the old grey cat in the corner.
A ROPE FOR HARRY FAT
Oh some have killed in angry love
And some have killed in hate,
And some have killed in foreign lands
To serve the business State.
The hangman's hands are abstract hands
Though sudden death they bring –
'The hangman keeps our country pure,'
Says Harry Fat the King.
Young love will kick the chairs about
And like a rush fire burn,
Desiring what it cannot have,
A true love in return.
Who knows what rage and darkness fall
When lovers thoughts grow cold?
'Whoever kills must pay the price,'
Says Harry Fat the old.
With violent hands a young man tries
To mend the shape of life.
This one used a shotgun
And that one used a knife.
And who can see the issues plain
That vex our groaning dust?
'The Law is greater than the man,'
Says Harry Fat the just.
Te Whiu was too young to vote,
The prison records show.
Some thought he was too young to hang;
Legality said, No.
Who knows what fear the raupo hides
Or where the wild duck flies?
'A trapdoor and a rope is best,'
Says Harry Fat the wise.
Though many a time he rolled his coat
And on the bare boards lay,
He lies in heavy concrete now
Until the Reckoning Day.
In linen sheet or granite aisle
Sleep Ministers of State.
'We cannot help the idle poor,'
Says Harry Fat the great.
Mercy stirred like a summer wind
The wigs and polished boots
And the long Jehovah faces
Above their Sunday suits.
The jury was uncertain;
The judge debated long.
'Let Justice take her rightful course,'
Said Harry Fat the strong.
The butcher boy and baker boy
Were whistling in the street
When the hangman bound Te Whiu's eyes
And strapped his hands and feet,
Who stole to buy a bicycle
And killed in panic blood.
'The parson won his soul at length,'
Said Harry Fat the good.
Oh some will kill in rage and fear
And some will kill in hate,
And some will kill in foreign lands
To serve the master State.
Justice walks heavy in the land;
She bears a rope and shroud.
'We will not change our policy,'
Says Harry Fat the proud.
1956
EVIDENCE AT THE WITCH TRIALS
No woman's pleasure did I feel
Under the hazel tree
When heavy as a sack of meal
The Black Man mounted me,
But cold as water from a dyke
His seed that quickened me.
What his age I cannot tell;
Foul he was, and fair.
There blew between us both from Hell
A blast of grit and fire,
And like a boulder is the babe
That in my womb I bear.
Though I was youngest in that band
Yet I was quick to learn.
A red dress he promised me
And red the torches burn.
Between the faggot and the flame
I see his face return.
1956–60
(Continues...)
Excerpted from James K. Baxter by James K. Baxter. Copyright © 2009 James K. Baxter Trust. Excerpted by permission of Auckland University Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Contents
Introduction Sam Hunt,High Country Weather,
Never No More,
Lament for Barney Flanagan,
By the dry Cardrona,
Sings Clarry,
Turn, turn the capstan,
A Rope for Harry Fat,
Evidence at the Witch Trials,
At Akitio,
For Kevin Ireland,
Elephanta,
The Sixties,
Ballad of Calvary Street,
The Old Owl,
On the Death of her Body,
At Taieri Mouth,
Hokitika Bill,
Brown Bone,
A Takapuna Business Man Considers his Son's Death in Korea,
On Reading Yevtushenko,
East Coast Journey,
Waipatiki Beach,
Pig Island Letters (2),
Tomcat,
To Any Young Man who Hears my Verses Read in a Lecture Room,
Ballad of One Tree Hill,
The Beach House,
Henley Pub,
from The Holy Life and Death of Concrete Grady,
The Gunner's Lament,
Thoughts of a Remuera Housewife,
Divorcee,
from Words to Lay a Strong Ghost,
Inscription,
To my Father in Spring,
The Communist Speaks,
Fitz Drives Home the Spigot,
Failure,
Letter to Sam Hunt,
Kumara Poem,
Jerusalem Blues,
91 The Return,
Ferry from Lyttelton,
He Waiata mo Te Kare,
Index of first lines,