You have always continued to develop your poetry?
I wrote a lot of poetry, about many different things, in many different places, and I have many old hard drives full of unpublished poetry.
I spent 7 years living in America, and that was where I did a lot of writing. I was living in Los Angeles and a particular place, The Cobalt Cafe, was very important in my development. The cafe hosted a monthly event called The Poetry Super Highway run by a really clever Jewish comedian called Rick Lupert. I was a regular there. That led to other gigs. I would share stages with great writers and musicians.
After all of these adventures, I found that writing and particularly writing poetry worked well for me. When I find time to write I get great pleasure out of crafting poetry.
Reduction. For the artist who no longer knows herself.
Dear one
do not forget the stories
through which
you found your way
to this place
called now.
Do not push those
adventurings away
so they
become sunken
unseen
shadows.
They
are embedded into
your flesh your
bones
have grown from
their nurturing.
The music
has long gone
yet they
dance
within you
still.
So extend
your arms
embrace each
one
with your eyes
and ignore the
pain.
Allow
them to gather in
formation
let the shape they
make
be the form
you take.
Do
this in knowing
do this in love
with
everything.
Dance
on.
Yes dance
do.
With lit eyes and
moistened
lips though
your
feet
be wet with
falling
tears
Do this
to live.
This is
to live.
To
remember
how
you have loved
and
how
you have been
loved.
JB – Titirangi, Oct 2018
What ideas do you investigate through your writing and what is your process?
I have already mentioned a lot of the themes I work with. In some ways the process is almost as important as the ideas you work with.
I am a great fan of Nick Cave, Christy Moore and a Scottish singer, Jackie Leven. They all have a principle of not forcing the writing. In fact they argue that if you force your writing it will come out misshapen. I am very patient and I wait to allow the writing to come if and when it comes.
When I write I tend to write work that is pretty much completed. I don’t tend to really overwork the poetry. I don’t overcraft my work. I have a sort of maverick belief that the work tends to shape itself.
I work in the fringe times. I tend to work late at night or really early in the morning and no matter what I am doing, that tends to be the periods when I write.
Rocks
I like the company of rocks. There, it’s said.
The declaration of my outsiderness.
I like the company of rocks because their
conversation is honest.
I admire how they sit comfortably with their
neighbours: be they other rocks or cheeky young grasses.
My favourite landscapes are folds of land
where steep escarpments are pocketed with burial hollows
and dressed with boulders bigger then cars,
as well as smaller stones that act as high priests
of silence.
Rocks don’t spit words in anger.
They don’t mind body odour or belching.
They don’t flinch from rain or complain when a cloak
of dark cloud threatens.
I like the company of rocks more than anybody
because of how much they know and how little they say.
JB – Little Huia – September 2016
What are you doing now?
Often I have to spend a fair bit of my time doing the things I need to do to make money and to look after my children. A few years ago, I decided to leave England and I applied for jobs in South Africa and New Zealand and I ended up in New Zealand. Now, I work between New Zealand, the US and I have travelled a fair bit through my work. New Zealand is now my home.
With regards poetry, I am working on material which might end up as a collection. I love writing children’s stories and I have had a few of those published. So I am working on both poetry and children’s stories at the moment, and my writing keeps me healthy.
