One of my favorite poets in Literary history is the late Hone Tuwhare of the Nga Puhi, Maori tribe of New Zealand. Like me, he has the same tribal origins and is also a hori. I grew up in college reciting my poems with his grandson Kahu Tuwhare.
A Rainy Day by Hone Tuwhare
Hotere: Out the Black Window. Ralph Hotere’s Work with New Zealand Poets. Auckland Art Gallery / Toi o Taamaki, 4 July – 9 September.
I can hear you
making small holes
in the silence
rain.
Rain. It started early that morning: dark, blustery rain. As I drove to meet Hone Tuwhare in Grey Lynn, where he was staying until the Montana Book Awards ceremony (his latest collection, Shape-shifter, won the poetry section this year), I could barely see the other cars on the road. They skidded along, each in their own halo of spray.
But if I
should not hear
smell or feel or see
you
you would still
define me
disperse me
wash over me
Artwork: The Black Window by artist Ralph Hotere.
Two Maori men. Both so strong, great leaders; pretty and austere with discerning and perceptive, hori artistic wings. Thanks fellahs.
~Posted by Horiwood.Com, Hollywood California USA, Maori Generated Media 11.12.09 as a part of the Black Rain and Black Paua series~