Why I Write

I needed a poem for the Courage Day event that I performed at today. Sue Gee (the organiser) had emailed all the performers a list of who's who of the poetic art world as well as the program for the evening. With exams, school, work and family life, time was not my friend over the past few weeks. I needed something fresh and special for such an important event and cause. While studying for my final exam (Global Lit) and falling asleep on the 4th floor of the Commons building, the powers of inspiration decided that this was the time and surroundings to commune with me. I wrote the following piece that I delivered today at Courage Day...thank you for all that supported and inspired me today......

I write to express/to suppress my inner thoughts and outwardly address them

I undress words/

I write to satisfy/any ambition with thoughts wayward they fly/

I write to graffiti mulched trees and bust semen like ink from the spear of a pen giving birth to words/

I write when I am on point/turned on in a machine type way

I write to teach/greedily I learn and portions I give to others/

I write selfishly/

I write with empathy and charity/I write love with hate and hate with love/love with hate and hate with love/ love with hate and hate with love/I write in annoyance

I write to get rid of the voices/

I write to allow the voices to be heard/

I write to see if meaning disappears into air and becomes magic/

I write to correct/to solve the world’s problems in my secluded universe/

I write to challenge/and to ignore any intellect to imagine what new words I can fathom/

I write to rhyme/I write to envision a stadium of 70,000 or a bookstore of ten score/

I write to paint pictures/to illustrate and to captivate/

I write with goals in mind/to have you listen/to speculate and penetrate/to join forces/to meditate

I write to critique/to have an opinion/I write to think like you/

I write for hope/I write for my seed/to implore a reaction to love words like me/

I write to have validity/I write to find truth

I write to be emotively-charged and to breakdown on paper

I write to improve/I write to prove and to make room/

I write with a grammar that damage my nana to disprove it and punish my work with hardened words like a hammer/

I write to stay behind bars when I'm handing out sentences/

I write to act/to bring maybe a Shakespearian influence with a ghetto background and make Act 1 damn straight stupendous

I write to get girls and good grades/I write to show love to my wife/

I write to show off/I write to show weakness/

I write to share and testify/

I write to have an impact/to break down doors and to spray-paint walls of confusion and to blow the damn roof off/

I write for my review and your enjoyment/I write to make you think/I write for your opinion

I write to make me question/for the lesson of it’s meaning/

I write for my culture and my experience/

I write for purpose/I write to be honest/

I write for the kids who trip and stumble to make way/ who slip through the cracks of life and speak as if the world is their oyster/

I write for this miracle/I write for you

For the experience to see why I write/And I thank God I do

Manny Pacquiao

Finally exams are over and I get to have one of the greatest weekends - well even better the greatest Sundays. First to the closure of such a great Sunday - Manny Pacquiao is the Filipino that every Filipino wants to be. I am probably one of the most plastic pinoys in the world - and to find an ethnicity to cling onto has been difficult these past 27 years. But with a sport that I have been heavily involved in, I cannot do anything else but embrace my Mum's culture and the blood that runs in my veins. It is probably borderline wrong to do so and argubly cheeky but this 'cousin' just wrote history tonight.

I know nobody (and let's face it - if someone was to say to me that a Filipino boxer will be the greatest fighter in his generation I would probably laugh at you) would have thought that Pacman would be where he would be:
- 7 titles in 7 weight classes
- Beating the odds and critisicms that all his fighter were not good enough or not big enogh (the usual banter)
- Number 1 Pound for pound
- settling himself next to the greats such as Ali, Leonard, De La Hoya
the list carries on. But if I could I would just say - Good on you Manny Pacquiao - you made your country men proud. You are my "David Tua".

Courage Day - 15th November 2009

I had been informed about this at the Montana Poetry Slam. You know you are getting into something when the names on the headlines are good fellow poets you know.
This will be a great night and although I had been concentrating solely on school, my family and church and work and boxing (man no wonder I have not written poetry for a while) it is good to take a break to write a little again. I love the spark of poetry!!!
Anyways, this performance day is in memory and has an MO to voice hatred and stoppage of imprisoned and executed writers all over the world. There are hundreds of horrific stories today of writers that are stopped and taken from all their human rights due to writing something controversial.
Courage Day is in memory of a couple from NZ that went through similar circumstances. I swear if someone did that to me from my writing, I would be just a little ticked off. Well to all my two followers (and other sneaky sneaky passerbys) come along and see how we dooz it. Hell, we got the right to do it.

Morningside for Life

How I love my home suburb in Auckland - I had been thinking of something of an ode to right to it. But the Naked Samoans had done a great job so here are a few words from a personal POV:

Remember when everyone used to run on the train tracks and try to run and run and run and run faster than the speeding train hastily creeping up and then some/there is no Superman in Morningside

Or recall when everyone used to walk to St Lukes Mall during Xmas time midnight closures and pretend to beat each other over on the side of the road until cars would stop us when they pulled over/There is no Hulk Hogan in Morningside

Or the time when we would practice driving at either Briscoes or the Cash n Carry carparks and attempt to really drive but our parents would think we wanted to die and an early vehicle insurance claim put aside even though our names are not on the policy/Right......there are no Schmachers in Morningside

Or maybe..........

Now it is Morningside for life

where the Bro’s live - well TV3 the Bro’s always lived there but even the Bro’s did not know it

The pub was going to be some time

Jeff was also named Alex and Tom and Corey and all sorts of names

There was a Mack and in the bro’s eyes he was sort of a fag - he reads poetry now

we weren’t all Samoans and only a handful of us were naked

even during the evening times there was always sunlight in Morningside

Ahhh bring on the South African rugby riots

that is when we came together

mini skips all in flames, flour bombs and violent rage

Fighting and there was Mum with her hose stopping rugby watchers pissing in our hedge

but if it was next door it was all good/

White walls of factories from my bedroom window

If you could not see that you must be bordering Kingsland, St Lukes or dare I say it – Sandringham?

If you heard our house we were the boys sitting on skateboards

Tony Hawk could not fly like us

Stealing from Sima’s dairy on the corner of Morningside Drive and New North Road

Running through Mount Albert Primary

Even the orange voting character knew where to sell off politics

Helen Clark wanted to situate herself right across the road from Eden Park

More importantly at the end of my street muttering under her breath “oh the humanity”

To explain more “I might be some time”

Morningside – the arguably ten street wonder

Pre poverty best but wannabe middle class number

Charge $10 rugby parks – good luck moving your car out afterwards

1 stage to anything but on 1 stage to the world

Fuelled by us that made Oscar see it International

Morningside stand up – and bend over to take a bow

Not forever but only for life – that is not even owwww!!!

Confused Time

Oh how time just flies. I continue to realise a lot more now what the olds meant by that. I have not written a poem or any creative personal stuff since school started - I guess that is a good enough reason but still creativity feels like it is eating inside to get out.

I love how Mos Def put it -

I am the inescapable, the irresistable,
The unnegotiable, the unchallenged
I am time
I scroll in measurements, control the elements,
I hold the evidence, I tell the story
I am time
I know no prejudice, I bare no sentiments
For wealth or settlement, I move forward
I am time
You can’t recover me, conceal or smuggle me,
Retreat or run from me, crawl up or under me,
You can’t do much for me besides serve
Me well and have good dividends returned to you
Or attempt to kill me off and have me murder you
Many have wasted me but now they are facing me,
Treated me unfaithfully and now endure me painfully
Plaintively, I wait to see what history will shape to be,
Who’s hearts will never die inside the sake of me
Angel’s scribe the page for me,
Keep a full account of all the names for me........

This was regards to Rubin 'Hurricane' Carter but can be used to describe almost anything (well except of the use of the word unnegotiable - I don't think that is entirely correct). The fear of time is 'Chronometrophobia' - it just sounds frightening in itself and there is even a song about it!!

Time is personified and I see everyday the need to befriend it. Through time comes the pain, but through time comes the healing!! Through time comes the rush, but through time comes the patience. Thank time for being its own contradiction.

Daniel Beatty

Shane Cameron

When the right guard went down it was over.......got nothing more to say except i had faith in you Shane. Well, to last longer than the opening seconds of the 2nd.

Shot Tua - now just lose the accent!