{"id":31779,"date":"2016-03-22T06:30:08","date_gmt":"2016-03-21T17:30:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/?p=31779"},"modified":"2016-03-20T22:16:55","modified_gmt":"2016-03-20T09:16:55","slug":"tuesday-poetry-more-lines-from-leaving-the-red-zone-aftershock","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/2016\/03\/22\/tuesday-poetry-more-lines-from-leaving-the-red-zone-aftershock\/","title":{"rendered":"Tuesday & Poetry: More Lines from “Leaving The Red Zone” — Aftershock"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Leaving<\/a>Over the past few weeks, I’ve been sharing some of the wonderful lines and stanzas from the \u201cSeptember\u201d (ie 4th, 2010: the 7.1 earthquake) from Leaving the Red Zone \u2014\u00a0<\/em>the\u00a0poetry anthology (edited by James Norcliffe and Joanna Preston, and published by Clerestory Press) that commemorates the fifth anniversary of the February 22, 2011, earthquake.<\/p>\n

Today, I am sharing some lines and stanzas from the \u201cAftershock\u201d section of Leaving the Red Zone<\/em>.<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

from<\/em> “Aftershock”<\/h3>\n

“3.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

All unpicked<\/em><\/span>
\nThe city is a shaken place.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

There are cracks and broken lines.<\/em><\/span>
\nThere are scars that define the wounded.<\/em><\/span>
\nThe earth is wounded.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

When the earth bends, so do we.<\/em><\/span>
\nThings cannot be returned.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

One writes; it is a matter of trust.<\/em><\/span>
\nBut<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

in this time?”<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\"Flowers<\/a>

Flowers for remembrance, February 22nd<\/p><\/div>\n

~ Tom Weston, “Aftershock”
\n.<\/span><\/p>\n

“…another earthquake has splintered a window<\/span><\/em>
\nshards on the carpet — it’s no surprise — nothing is<\/span><\/em>
\nas it seems<\/span><\/em>
\nwhen something known or unknown<\/span><\/em>
\nleaves its mark and is gone —<\/span><\/em>
\nas in a dream, nothing is”<\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

~ Barbara McCartney, “Nothing is’
\n.<\/span><\/p>\n

“…the world is shattered and laid to rest<\/em><\/span>
\ncreaks and hisses beneath an impossible weight<\/em><\/span>
\n…………………………………………………………………………….<\/span>the heart pumps<\/em><\/span>
\n.<\/span>
\nand flutters like so many trapped birds”………………………………………………………………….<\/span><\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

~ Jeffrey Paparoa Holman, “When All You”
\n.<\/span><\/p>\n

“People who have stayed talk in colours. Red and greens mostly but occasionally whites <\/em><\/span>
\nand oranges. They go round in circles like hula hoops round and round reluctant to stop <\/em><\/span>
\nspinning to be reduced to reality in all its finality.”<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

~ Emma Currie, “Eastern Christchurch”
\n.<\/span><\/p>\n

But the last word, like the first, goes to Tom Weston:<\/p>\n

\""...trees...pushing<\/a>

“…trees…pushing back
on despair…”<\/p><\/div>\n

“12.<\/em><\/span>
\nHow should a citizen replace<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

the stolen city,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

having no safe assumptions, nothing<\/em><\/span>
\nbut the same fear,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

following hope<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

out over<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

the horizon, when the bleak edge<\/em><\/span>
\ngive way<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

to softer edges,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

when trees fall in and try to keep<\/em><\/span>
\ntheir feet, pushing back<\/em><\/span>
\non despair,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

as the last word before rapture<\/em><\/span>
\ntakes me out?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

I’m waiting for it now.<\/em><\/span>
\nAnd what should I do about hope?”<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

~Tom Weston, “Aftershock”<\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Over the past few weeks, I’ve been sharing some of the wonderful lines and stanzas from the \u201cSeptember\u201d (ie 4th, 2010: the 7.1 earthquake) from Leaving the Red Zone \u2014\u00a0the\u00a0poetry anthology (edited by James Norcliffe and Joanna Preston, and published by Clerestory Press) that commemorates the fifth anniversary of the February 22, 2011, earthquake. Today, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[35,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-31779","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-earthquakepoems","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31779","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=31779"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31779\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":31788,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/31779\/revisions\/31788"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=31779"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=31779"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/helenlowe.info\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=31779"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}