{"id":15577,"date":"2012-08-28T06:30:39","date_gmt":"2012-08-27T18:30:39","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/?p=15577"},"modified":"2012-08-26T18:06:59","modified_gmt":"2012-08-26T06:06:59","slug":"tuesday-poem-christchurch-gothic-by-david-eggleton","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2012\/08\/28\/tuesday-poem-christchurch-gothic-by-david-eggleton\/","title":{"rendered":"Tuesday Poem: “Christchurch Gothic” by David Eggleton"},"content":{"rendered":"

Christchurch Gothic<\/strong><\/p>\n

Summer\u2019s Avon spelt the names of atua in green,
\nand through trees sun shafts dug at dappled lawns,
\nas if to unearth a circuit-board of worm-holes,
\nthe universe beneath the labyrinth,
\nthe silent presence of mountain shingle
\nacross the curve of the island\u2019s waist.<\/p>\n

Teen racers hummed like bees in a hive,
\nand late autumn was the harlequin
\nhurrying past them down Bealey Ave,
\ntowards the rusted, busted, midnight hour,
\nits sword-and-sorcery pageant of flashing sabres,
\nits chorus lines of black on moonlit runnelled iron.<\/p>\n

They drained the swamp for bodies,
\nand found a city in a smog overcoat the colour
\nof mid-winter: a swallowed-up netherland.
\nAround it, paddock windbreaks rose in ranks,
\nlong shadows falling like guillotines,
\nas night exhaled its nausea.<\/p>\n

Frosted spring melted into this deep carpet,
\nand from Port Hills rolled the squared-away harvest,
\nwhose matted roots expressed pedigrees of settlement,
\na holding pattern of heartbeats, brainwaves, fingerprints
\ndown blind alleys. The city breathed in\u00a0 \u2014
\na hot air balloon sailed above its festoons of bitumen.<\/p>\n

\u00a9 David Eggleton<\/p>\n

First published in New Zealand Books<\/em>, 2009; also published in Time of the Icebergs<\/em> (Otago University Press) 2010<\/p>\n

Reproduced here with permission.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>About the Poem:<\/strong><\/p>\n

I have long been an admirer of David Eggleton’s “more is more” style of poetry and the way he evokes a strongly New Zealand “sense of\u00a0 place” through his work.\u00a0 David is also the 2012 Ursula Bethell Writer in Residence at the University of Canterbury for the second half of this year; as the incumbent for the first six months, I felt it would be only in keeping with a spirit of Ursula Bethell collegiality to request permission to feature one of his poems as a Tuesday Poem—and was delighted when he agreed.<\/p>\n

Choosing only one poem out of the selection he sent through was tough—but as soon as I read Christchurch Gothic<\/em>, which evokes my home city as it was before the first major earthquake in 2010, I felt it had to be “the one.” At one level this is because I feel the poem does capture ‘the way we were’; at another I am aware that next Tuesday, September 4, is the two year anniversary of that first earthquake.\u00a0 But mainly, and I feel most importantly, I simply love the poem. I hope you enjoy it just as much.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>About the Poet:<\/strong><\/p>\n

David Eggleton has had six books of poems and a book of short fiction published, as well as several works of non-fiction, including Ready to Fly: the Story of New Zealand Rock Music<\/em>,\u00a0 Into the Light: a History of New Zealand Photography<\/em>, and Towards Aotearoa: A Short History of Twentieth Century New Zealand Art<\/em>. He has also released a number of poetry recordings featuring his collaborations with musicians, and been involved in poetry text collaborations with practitioners of a variety of other art forms, from sculpture to fashion design. His first collection of poems, South Pacific Sunrise<\/em>, was co-winner of the PEN New Zealand Best First Book of Poems Award in 1987.\u00a0 David’s awards also include the Robert Burns Fellowship 1990, New Zealand Book Reviewer of the Year 1991 and, uniquely among New Zealand poets, the London Time Out<\/em>‘s Street Entertainer of the Year (Poetry) 1985.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>To read the featured poem on the Tuesday Poem Hub<\/strong> and other great poems from fellow Tuesday poets from around the world, click here<\/strong><\/a> or on the Quill<\/strong> icon<\/strong> in the sidebar.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Christchurch Gothic Summer\u2019s Avon spelt the names of atua in green, and through trees sun shafts dug at dappled lawns, as if to unearth a circuit-board of worm-holes, the universe beneath the labyrinth, the silent presence of mountain shingle across the curve of the island\u2019s waist. Teen racers hummed like bees in a hive, and […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-15577","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-other-writers","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15577","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=15577"}],"version-history":[{"count":21,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15577\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":15600,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/15577\/revisions\/15600"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15577"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=15577"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=15577"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}