Deb Curreen Author

 I have no self esteem... is a laughable line, from a terrible time, inside a dream that soon went dark, and I found my life and all that was dear, slide down the plughole, into a terrifying, nightmare. Like Stephen King had come to stay, bringing monsters that wanted to play, inside  my head and with my heart, as they messed  with my hopes my desires... they were running around,  all through the house  trying to turn my whole life into fire. I pushed them away, I closed the door, I forbade those creatures from crossing my floor. when down the chimney flew some bats, python snakes and tricked out cats. "We've come to take your esteem away, we're going to make your confidence pay." I looked at them, well fancy that, they'd pissed me off, I'd deal with that. I got my gun, I shot them down, their screams were heard all over town. "She's shooting bullshit," the locals said, "I hope she got them in the head." I sat down in my comfy chair, I ...

  I was going to Nelson and Golden Bay too, I was away for a week there  So I sent a message to you. "Hey Redneck, I'm doing a roadie I want you to come. Don't worry about money, I have plenty and some. (Well, not really that much, So when we sometimes do takeaways  perhaps we could go Dutch?!)  I booked you a ticket, for a ride on the plane, I'll meet you at the airport, you can't say no, you'd be insane. I've hired a comfy car, that will be taking us far, we'll go to Blenheim and Picton,' then down to Kaikoura! I'll show you the mountains,  the rivers and sea, hopefully whales, and the wildlife that runs free. Then over to Takaka and the beautiful Golden Bay, I'll show you all the places  where you're mum used to stay. All the homes and the houses, a commune or two, and even some campsites, where I slept beneath the moon. Then's it back to our cabin, in the bush, up a hill, nestled away, peacefully private and still. We'll go t...

 I'm off to join the convicts, because I know I'm going to jail. I know I promised myself and the world, I wouldn't write poems about any friend, but I have, I just can't help myself, so poetry jail will be my end. I hope to make new friends in there, someone new to write about. I hope my words will make them sing and laugh, and dance and jump about. I hope I don't upset anyone, I don't want to get thrown out. Because where do you go after jail, when you can no longer stay, where do the fallen poets go, when their words cause outrage and dismay. Is there a dark and dreary dungeon, where ostracised wordsmiths dwell? A place to sit and mutter, a room that smells like hell. Even though my subjects were anonymous, you could still guess their names, I always new my verses were dicey, but I still played that tricky, slippery game. My editor tried to warn me, but her words sailed straight past my ear, "people can get upset, so stop making fun of them with your wor...

. The sun is bright and a soft wind blows calmly through your window, I say, "Listen to that singing outside, what can it be?" "It's the tuis,' you say, "they're waiting for me." "But not today," I said, and you laughed with me, "not today, I'm not ready, they will have to wait." I agreed, no one was ready yet, and you stayed for a while longer. They returned the next day, and the next, those tuis sang together, and we came to enjoy their boisterous chorus. "They're still here," I told you. "Yes," you said, "but it's sunny, so they can just stay in the trees and cry," We laughed together, as we watched the tuis in the kowhai, harmonising together, in the branches that touched the sky. I stand over you, some days later, the sky was grey and the clouds hung lower than broken hearts, you were gone, leaving us quietly, in the early morn. I looked in the kowhai but the tuis were also gone. You...

I remember the Post Office in Mangonui across from the store, beside the shore where we collected our mail, Cashed a cheque, bought a stamp stood outside in the morning sun enjoying a friendly chat,  about this, and also that. The telephone exchange nestled out the back, the place that linked the town as one,  by party line, one conversation at a time. Long short long, funny ring tones back then.   The Post Office was all business inside, socialising  outside before we wound our ways home, By foot, bike or  a car driven slowly,   round that windy, pretty harbour road. Where flame trees hung splendidly in red, throwing shade on our foot steps ,  protecting our head, as glorious flowers beckoned birds in for lunch, allowing nests to be built in their arms. Now I walk in your door, Post Office, like it’s 1904 precious years later, many incarnations of cafes and bakers, bars and meal makers, we have our own Littl...

 We've woken to several news items on the morning of Sunday 15 October, 2023. Firstly, our beautiful country and home, Aotearoa, is blue, politically, which is kind of ironic, blue being the black power gang colour and the National party being so anti-gangs. It was kind of like a gang stand off last night, in a way, all these patched up fullahs, from their respective red and blue gangs, in their fancy suits, shouting threats at each other, trying to take over one another's turf. A turf that has never belonged to them in the first place. Tangatawhenua! The next scary news item is that Iran is warning Israel to back off, "before it's too late". Whatever the hell do they mean? I think we know what the Iranians mean, and it's not good. More fighting over turf.  Two gangs or nations, tribes, families, patched up, shouting and shooting at each other, only this time it's real bullets and not just idle threats. They don't wear leather jackets and their bodies ...

 I need to stay off "the net"- it gets dark out there, and not, "the darknet", the everyday posts that pop up and up and up, and sometimes bring you down, like "IT" the scary clown. Because there was this post I saw today, it  did quite take my breathe away. There was this lady in a wedding dress,  and in her post this is what she said, "I'm waiting for a bridegroom,  as soon as his wife drops dead; or the casualty of a recent divorce, some lucky chap to fill my bed." Yes, I know my fellow reader, my mouth it fell to the floor, I wish that was the end of it, but sorry,  there was more. The post it was on facebook,  it was public for all the world to see, the lady had tagged a hoard of people, and one of them was me. I don't know why she tagged me, I have no husband, I'm alone, but maybe she thought if she threw it out there, her post would lure some poor guy home. I don't mean to be bitchy, that's not my intention here, but as...