Sunday, November 16, 2014

knights in distress...

Photo: (c) Lyn McKelvie 2014.

I'd really had enough
of this thing called love,
I wasn't looking.
I was saying a resounding
"No more to Amore!!" /

And then, when I least expected it,
there you were:
Bang bang banging
on my heart, my castle walls & door.

I've never really been that into princesses,
I prefer the strong women
who don't require rescuing
(I don't mind admitting in this clumsy, manly rhyme) /

But here's the truth
and it may surprise or even shock you:
The real men, the good (not "nice")
knights of this world...

...We're the ones
who need rescuing, from time to time.

(c) Brent M Harpur 2014.

“Fairy tales are more than true:
Not because they tell us that dragons exist,
but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.” 
(Neil Gaiman, 'Coraline'.)

“Sleeping on a dragon's hoard
with greedy, dragonish thoughts in his heart,
he had become a dragon himself.”
(C.S. Lewis)

“If the sky could dream, it would dream of dragons.” 
(Ilona Andrews)

Friday, October 17, 2014


“And the day came
when the risk to remain
tight in a bud
was more painful
than the risk it took to blossom...” 

 (Anais Nin)

Monday, October 6, 2014

matching colours...

Photo: (c) Susan Harden, 2014.

" Quite unexpectedly, a week ago today,
I met a woman in a crowded room.
We shared a fleeting moment,
some precious words, laughter, smiles
and a hug goodbye.
The 'tyranny of distance'
prevents an immediate reunion.
But I just wanted her to
(somehow) know:
Our briefest of encounter
has stayed in my mind & heart
for the last seven days.
It was the best
(albeit shortest)
conversation & connection
I have had with a woman
for a very, very long time.
I just wanted her to know
that I'd really like to see her smile
again (one day soon)...
If courage, fate or geography allows. " 

(Written on the 24th June, 2014.)

(c) Brent M Harpur, 2014. 

Saturday, June 28, 2014

the decision I made...

It's true,
I could have stayed.

It wasn't easy,
but I stand by
the decision I made.

Yes, it's true,
I'm scared

(just like everyone else).

But I'm not afraid.

I never meant to 
hurt you, break your heart, make you cry.

If one day,
you meet another gentle (yet strong) man
such as I.

Try not to be so hard on him
if at times he's terribly shy.

At least you never insulted me
by calling me a nice guy.

I'm a good man, mostly
or (at the very least):
I try.

One part gentle man,
one part wasp,
one part butterfly.

It is hard to stay in touch,
remain friends;
When I'm not sure
if we were even
really friends to begin with.

(c) Brent M Harpur, 2014.
"When people talk, listen completely. Most people never listen." (Ernest Hemingway)

Sunday, May 18, 2014

icarus revisited (making the sirens blush)...

All that you have left behind,
family, friends, love.
Was it really worth the sacrifice?
Maybe it has come the time
to trade it all in
for a mid-life crisis.
If I were to
fall in love with a bird,
it would not be for
her feat of flying
or the pretty colour
on the underside of her wings.
These things will never
win me over half as much
as the bird
(who, just for me):
She sings.
For as many nights
that I've now missed her /
the stars,
they have given me
I have (once again)
third degree burns
in places she'll never
think to look
or even see.
And this wax, it makes me itch
and these feathers, they make me sneeze /
And you know, falling
kind of feels like flying,
and I'm enjoying the cool breeze.
Why, oh why, oh why?
Must I keep
(even now, especially now)
 these sunspots
  for angels?
I have forgotten
my sunhat, dark glasses & sunscreen.
And I still have not
learnt to swim.
But up here in the clouds,
I can finally see
the birds.
And even if I cannot conquer
these blue heavens
as gracefully & eloquently
as they,
I can still sing!
And as those
cool, inviting waves,
they race up to greet me;
My last bitter-sweet
will make
the Sirens blush
and a far-off Minotaur weep.
you know the ancient words,
ripped from
the feathered throats of birds...
"Curse & rejoice
this thing called love,
I am once again
left such a beautiful,
yet wretched mess /
We may not be lovers
or even friends,
but (like the fullest of moon)
I still loved you,
none the less."
And it needs repeating:
For as many nights
that I've now missed her /
these beautiful, beautiful stars,
they have given me
(c) Brent M Harpur, 2014.
"The stars we are given. The constellations we make." (Rebecca Solnit)
"For each star above me / Ten more have loved me." (Declan O'Rourke)

Thursday, May 15, 2014

looking for love amongst falling leaves...

This lone leaf
on the ground;
when it fell,
never made a sound.

Like all the other leaves,
no more (or less)

But to this
blurry, romantic eye,
make no mistake:
A lonely
yet perfect heart
it did make.

I only hope
that when it fell,
it did not break.

(c) Brent M Harpur, 2014.

"A man's work is nothing but this slow trek to discover, through the detours of art, those two or three great & simple images in whose presence his heart first opened. (Albert Camus)

Tuesday, March 25, 2014

a long way from home (for Jan)...

"Do you know what happens to scar tissue?
It's the strongest part of the skin."
(Michael R Mantell)

I held my breath,
you taught me how to breathe.
And when there's nothing left,
That's my cue to leave.

I held my breath,
you taught me how to breathe;
there's always something left,
That I now believe. (1993)

This morning,
after so much pain,
you have slipped away from this world.

Tonight, I read in a book
that scar tissue
the strongest part of the skin.

Turning out the light,
lying still in the dark
I wonder,

what of the heart?

In forty five short years,
this tiny, fragile heart of mine,
it is covered in so many scars.

Does this loss indeed
make me stronger?

Te Maunga (the mountain),
should Moana (the sea)
threaten once more

to swallow you up!!

I promise,
Jan Marie...
I will always remember you.

I woke this morning,
you're gone,
but the world still turns /

I take an extra breath (for you),
my dear.
Because even in death,
my dear:

Your fire still burns.

Our bodies,
they are merely cages.
And Moana, she still rages,

with perhaps a little less foam.

Memories can bind,
leaving us blind;

Tonight, in a cafe
a stranger, a Kiwi, reminds me:

I am a long way from home.

Through your touch, you touched so many.
You gave new meaning

Safe sex.

Sanctuary for so many healing souls.

The guilty shall be named.
The innocent unshamed.

I still remember your long, flowing hair,
orange flamed.

You took this broken man
and taught him how to dance.

This man I chose to be,
not an easy choice. Even now.

You got it, and more than that:
You appreciated it.
The biggest gift you ever gave me.
Thank you.

And here now,
far away, in a land of red soil,

I think of your long flowing hair still;

And how it now joins
the blood
pumping unseen
inside the very heart of Te Maunga.

So much I want to say,
but I have lost the words.
These are the only ones
that come to me
the morning I hear of your passing:

"And long after you have left,
the truth has remained...
That (even in death)

You could never be tamed."

Your big, pure, beautiful heart
and unfailing, safe arms,

they will remain for me
(and so many fortunate others):

A work of enduring beauty,
best left


In your lifetime, my dear...

You carried
heartache & pain
than a thousand men

could ever bear.

But I still hear your laughter,
and I will always see your face
in the face of Mt. Taranaki.

No one can ever
take that away from me.

Thank you for flying me home
for one last dance.

I am a long way from home.
I am a long way from home.
I am a long way from home.

I held my breath,
you taught me how to breathe:
There's always something left,
that I now believe.

(c) Brent Harpur, 2014.

- For Dr. Jan Marie, RIP.