Easter Sunday in Otara
Easter Sunday in Otara
Not everyone has a happy Easter.......
(Otara is a region of South Auckland)
Easter Sunday in Otara
© Rod Walford 2014
He licks a strawberry ice cream as he sits there on the deck
The sunshine warms his bruises and the marks upon his neck.
His dad is stoned and sleeping, and he wonders if in dreams
He still hears mummy shouting or his little brother’s screams.
It was Easter Sunday morning in Otara
His ice cream started melting in the sun.
He shared it with his baby sister, Cara
While little Rangi chewed a day old bun.
His mum is weeping, blurry-eyed, her swollen face is tender
As, half-asleep, her old man stands, still stoned from last night’s bender.
His ragged vest is stained with beer and vomit speckled blotches
Mum’s silent stare is tinged with hate; she coldly waits…and watches.
She looks through grimy windows to a place across the street
Where on this Easter morning all the faithful flock to meet.
She sees the smiling faces of the ladies dressed in white;
She sees the Cross of Jesus shining in the bright sunlight.
It hadn’t shone too brightly in the confines of the night
When he’d been so brutal with her while her children cried in fright.
Yet still she prayed as he performed, that God would intercede
And teach him love and tenderness…instead of lust and greed.
But it was just another morning in Otara
The vision started melting in the sun.
The ice-cream dripped just like the blood of Jesus
And fell on Rangi’s day old hot cross bun.
(Otara is a region of South Auckland)
Easter Sunday in Otara
© Rod Walford 2014
He licks a strawberry ice cream as he sits there on the deck
The sunshine warms his bruises and the marks upon his neck.
His dad is stoned and sleeping, and he wonders if in dreams
He still hears mummy shouting or his little brother’s screams.
It was Easter Sunday morning in Otara
His ice cream started melting in the sun.
He shared it with his baby sister, Cara
While little Rangi chewed a day old bun.
His mum is weeping, blurry-eyed, her swollen face is tender
As, half-asleep, her old man stands, still stoned from last night’s bender.
His ragged vest is stained with beer and vomit speckled blotches
Mum’s silent stare is tinged with hate; she coldly waits…and watches.
She looks through grimy windows to a place across the street
Where on this Easter morning all the faithful flock to meet.
She sees the smiling faces of the ladies dressed in white;
She sees the Cross of Jesus shining in the bright sunlight.
It hadn’t shone too brightly in the confines of the night
When he’d been so brutal with her while her children cried in fright.
Yet still she prayed as he performed, that God would intercede
And teach him love and tenderness…instead of lust and greed.
But it was just another morning in Otara
The vision started melting in the sun.
The ice-cream dripped just like the blood of Jesus
And fell on Rangi’s day old hot cross bun.
Re: Easter Sunday in Otara
Well done Rod - and written as two little girls, aged 3 and 4 were killed by their father in Melbourne on Easter Sunday.
Heather
Heather
- alongtimegone
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Re: Easter Sunday in Otara
Rod ... that's another excellent piece of writing. I saw very recently an interview on this topic and I believe that there are moves afoot to change current laws in Australia relating to domestic violence whereby the perpetrators will be charged under criminal law. Great poem. Hope it's a poem and only a poem.
Wazza
Wazza
Re: Easter Sunday in Otara
Did anyone see the movie "Once were warriors"? Possibly the most brutal and powerful movie I have ever seen.
Re: Easter Sunday in Otara
Hi Heather - yes I saw it not long after it was released. As you say it was brutal but the saddest thing was that it was realistic. Reckon if I'd seen that before I came to NZ I may not have come - maybe I would have come to Aussie instead !!Heather wrote:Did anyone see the movie "Once were warriors"? Possibly the most brutal and powerful movie I have ever seen.
Re: Easter Sunday in Otara
Unfortunately it isn't confined to any one place or time, Rod.
I like the way you have conveyed it there in your poem.
Marty
I like the way you have conveyed it there in your poem.
Marty
- Maureen K Clifford
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Re: Easter Sunday in Otara
Nicely worded Rod - Well done.
Check out The Scribbly Bark Poets blog site here -
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.
http://scribblybarkpoetry.blogspot.com.au/
I may not always succeed in making a difference, but I will go to my grave knowing I at least tried.