CINQUAN Poems by Douglas Perenara Johnston

My blood
Contains my past
A voice for my forebears
If only I learn to listen
Guide me

Money
We all want it
Meant to free us at first
But instead enslaved us to greed
Worth it?

Maunga
Tarawera
Beautiful, terrible
Night sky burns, our world ends
Help us!

Stormlight
Smell of ozone
The taste of iron on my tongue
Hairs raise on the back of my neck
Goose bumps

My Dad
Strong hands and heart
Still near at hand you feel
Love you until the stars burn out
Miss you

Half caste
Impure? Unclean?
Between two opposed worlds
I define myself from now on
I’m ME