home | foreword | roll of honour | the poems | links



Yes, we saw you bleed
your lives away,
our ANZUS friends.
I'm truly sorry
you cannot bring your ships
to our safe waters
any more.

My father a politician,
much wiser than I,
is of the opinion
that in the final
order of things
we might be disposable
strategically expendable.
Whatever that means.

Can you imagine it?
Our land an unsinkable
aircraft carrier,
the final bastion of life
in a pile of global embers.
(And radioactive at that.)

Sorry my ANZUS friends
Ngatoro-i-rangi once gave fire
to our land -
and it was good;
for his flame made mountains
and warmed the kumara.

I know that you will do
all in your power
to prevent us
cutting the birth cord
which bound us in calamity
of past battles.

But the fires in the bowels
of your steel canoes
are not of this earth
and the unclean stroke
of your terrible patu
would bring us grief
for ten thousand years.

John A. Moller
Whiskey Two Company RNZIR


home | foreword | roll of honour | the poems | links