Poems from the carpark

Reilly Street

They’re closing down the carpark, way down on Reilly Street
Where freedom camper’s laugh & play, & nations smile & greet

There’s Spanish here, & German too, & Dutch & French & Jew
The nations of the world arrive, to form a rainbow stew

Where late at night the rednecks drive, & rev their spiteful cars
While all around the hippies smile, & strum their green guitars

I’m sixty five, a pensioner! I came here by mistake!
But I love it down on Reilly Street, where soon there’ll be a gate

& I love the songs of freedom, that waft out on the wind
& I love the local businessman, who supplies the rubbish bins

& I love the ones within the town, who reach out with their care
Who forgive the sin of being young, a kindness sometimes rare

My life has been a struggle long, against dark bigotry
So where there’s love within the town, I sense a victory

The heart is like a chapel door, we sometimes lose the key
So I love it down on Reilly Street, in peace & harmony

& I love the way the young ones smile, within life’s pain & strife
These days, now short, on Reilly Street, are the highlight of my life


Kevin Moran


Poet Activist/Poet Shaman



Yes, woe to you, the prophet says
Who turn from peace, to redneck ways

Who sneak around at 4 a.m.
To hurl your rocks at sleeping men

& women too, who do no harm
But sleep beside a river calm

You steal the bikes of sleeping souls
While feeling bold on alcohol

& smash the guitars of the young
Upon which songs of peace are sung

You curse the ones from overseas
With words of hate & bigotry

You disgrace your town with violence
Your hostile ways are spiralling

Yes, woe to you, the prophet says
Who turn from peace, to redneck ways


Pilot Whale

At Tuhuroa, we labour in, the pastures of the sea
We’re German, French, & Kiwi too, & form community

While all around we hear the sound of Upokohue
The pilot whale, she’s on the scales, we fight to set her free

& here’s her calf, she floats at last, she’s by her mother’s side
& women sing, & hope she rings, upon the risen tide

& in my heart, I feel the chants & prophesies of old
The seas will part & free our paths, as Waitaha foretold

A way of peace will walk the earth, where woman, man & child
Walk side by side, within a tide, to serve the living wild

We’ll love the earth, who gives us birth, & calls us to her side
Where spirit leads, our hearts will bleed, upon that coming tide

Of justice, peace, & mercy too, beyond the killer schemes
Where lion & the lamb lie down; I read it in my dreams


‘Tuhuroa;’ Farewell Spit
‘Upokohue;’ the pilot whale
‘Waitaha;’ an ancient Matriarchal people, who follow the philosophies of peace known as Rongomaraeroa;

See; www.waitaha.org



I praise the local businessman
Whose name it rhymes with rain
Who boldly steps up to the plate
Where love begins to wane

Who shells out for the rubbish skip
& for porter loos
Where freedom campers sleep at night
& end up on the news

I praise the local businessman
Whose care is practical
Who serves the young from overseas
& makes me want to tell

How each & every camping soul
They have a mum & dad
Who waits for them in foreign lands
& will be feeling glad

That in our town, there is a man
A Kiwi to the core
Who knows how to be welcoming
Upon this distant shore

I praise the local businessman
Whose business it is whole
& if you want a meal today
Well, I’m the one who told



But there are some parts that endure which will be enabled to stay’

There’s fire along Commercial Street
My feet are wearing thin
Her eyes are dark, her dress is blue
She plays the violin

I’m tangled up in spider webs
Yet, risen like a pine
She tilts her chin, & then begins
Her song of love divine

I’ve been with you on stormy seas
& where the eagle soars
I walk with you within the fray
& where the lion roars

 There’s much of you I strip away
Yet, parts that do endure
The parts that serve the greater good
Become the final cure

& on her bow it sings & saws
Upon Commercial Street
I’ll walk the line, & drink her wine
Where love & mercy meet


The poem is based on an encounter with a busker on Commercial Street in Takaka



‘What sort of power walks these hills?’

I cannot name – I cannot name
The power that walks these hills

I only know – I only know
It’s from the heart it spills

It is the song of freedoms bird
From every singing tree

& is the sound of waking up
& people stepping free

I feel it in the rivers surge
In Takaka of old

It’s in the sparkle in the eyes
Of young ones growing bold

It’s in the heart, this ancient art
Which sets the captive free

The power that walks the Marble Hill
Is love & harmony

It does resist – it does resist
Our names that fence it in

The systems that we humans make
Become our greatest sin

I cannot name – I cannot name
The power that walks these hills

I only know – I only know
It’s from the heart it spills



‘You’re taking on the road of terrible destructions’

The empire turns against itself
The wolves are gathering

About the borders of the soul
I strum my mandolin

The fascist mob, they seek to rob
The freedoms that we serve

Where humans live in harmony
& Nature do conserve

& there I see the one percent
(Now feel the lion leap!)

Who rob the young, who’ve just begun
(Now see how Justice weeps!)

When wealth that does belong to all
Is stored up by the rich

Who rob the poor, whose pain is raw
& strand them in a ditch

Where laws are written, to preserve
The privilege of the few

By bankers with their tax accounts
& all that dodgy crew

I’m taking on the widening road
Of destruction from the top

My spiritualities practical
I’m never going to stop



“You’ll find it in the place of salt… along the edge of tears…’

I see the sun; it’s risen high
Along the edge of tears

Where freedom campers rise & shine
To face a world of fears

& I wonder what is drawing them
Into the place of salt

& what preserves the dreams they bring
To the river, where they halt

To pause awhile, & laugh & sing
Upon the freedom road

& swing their poi of living fire
Beyond the bitter load

Our culture piles upon the young
As if it’s set in stone

The expectations of the old
Become a lethal tome

 That suffocates the rising tide
& the question that it brings

Where humans do renew themselves
& the River bravely sings



‘My eyes are multiple’

So all about the freedom camp
I find the living One

Whose eye alone is multiple
& opens in the young

Who step beyond, prescriptive crap
Which quells the human flame

To find in all that lives & breaths
My one Unspoken Name

I’m Nature mate, the covert one
I’m just too plain to see

The heart that finds my purposes
It knows just how to be

I’m everywhere, in living things
I see through every eye

& wake the living from the dead
To have another try

At working out my purposes
My seeds they do exist

Beyond conventionality
You’ll find my greatest hits



You’re getting closer, and with that exposure,
You will be able to use the help you need’

I open to the midnight sun
Within my burning heart

That turns my thinking into gold
& dreams to works of art

I’m doubling down & changing up
Upon the freedom road

I seek to serve the risen tide
Who bear the heavy load

Of cultural crap, that’s worse than clap
That’s pushed upon their souls

I kneel to serve, where River swerves
& Nature takes control

& here’s my help, they’re all about
Within the Golden Bay

Upon the tide & by my side
& at the river, where I stay

They come to me, some smoking weed
The angels at my side

The help I need, they’re off the lead
& windows open wide


‘Wilderness will take a 1000 years’

I do not know – I do not know – the why, the when, nor if
I only know – I only know – we’re stepping off a cliff

& it will take, a thousand years, till wilderness returns
Where lemmings flee, towards the sea, & so the clock will turn

For centuries, & millennia, as Nature has her say
Where humans do, for greed forsake; Immortal DNA

She calls to us – this is a must! – to link with love Divine!
That lives in us, & seeks our trust, & makes of us a shrine

That lifts us up, like buttercups, before the mighty throne
Of Nature’s light, deep in the night; where Justice slowly groans

& hopes for all, the short & tall; the human & the snake
& animals & fish & birds – Oh what a wreck we make!

I do not know – I do not know – the why, the when, nor if
I only know – I only know – we’re stepping off a cliff



‘He himself is pleased, as he discovers within us, the song of our needs’

& so the Good, she smiles within
The inmost sanctuary

To know my needs, it makes her pleased
As I face, adversity

& so I lean upon her breast
& whisper of my needs –

There’s wolves among the sheep at night
& in the garden; weeds

 It’s courage Lord, & strategies
To overcome the night

 & partners Lord, & spirits flow
To guide me in the fight

& in my heart, I know she hears
My ragged words of hope

& she is pleased, within my needs
It is her masterstroke



‘He himself’ (or she herself) is the Divine
The saying tells us the Self is ‘pleased’ when we connect with & articulate ‘our needs’

 In the poem ‘The Good’ is the Divine

 The poem was written during a time of struggle in the Reilly St Freedom Camper carpark

There were all sorts of stresses & tensions about (wolves among the sheep… also ‘weeds’ in the garden)

 In the poem I express my need for courage & strategies & partners & spirits flow

 The day after I wrote this poem all my needs were met
Sometimes in most unexpected ways


 ‘We’ve got a few steps left that will take you to all the wrong places’

The step that’s you, that’s really true
& opens heaven’s door

Just seems so wrong & not your song
(You hear the lion roar!)

& move beyond, your old restraints
The mode once safe & sure

You hear the clock, where safety stops
& take the lethal cure

You step beyond, security
To take the narrow road

Where eagles cry, in stormy skies
In ways you can’t decode

& now you’re here, beyond your fear
You’re tentative, but sure

You step on in, beyond your sin
You’re shaken to the core



The final steps into the awakened state seem ‘all wrong’ to the ego

It’s a stepping beyond old securities

Into a new place, beyond old restraints & fears

 It seems so wrong but it is found to be so right


‘The voice of Anima Mundi is multiple’

It’s in the dark she comes to me
& whispers in my ear

‘The town is now a knowing you’
& melts into the air

She’s a voice of Anima Mundi
The mind that’s multiple

The soul that’s vast, it speaks at last
Where heart grows capable

She’s a voice of Anima Mundi
She enters on the edge

Where mind grows dim & sleep begins
She makes a solemn pledge

She’s a voice of Anima Mundi
To balance & assist

She weaves between the world we see
& that of timeless mist

She’s a voice of Anima Mundi
Beyond our human schemes

When souls are ripe, deep in the night
They enter in our dreams


Anima Mundi – The World Soul (The life & memory of Nature)



I am the poem in the loo
I’m sitting down to talk with you

I’m pleased you smile, & can relate
& take the time to contemplate

& think of all the friends you’ve made
At Reilly Street, in sun & shade

& of the freedom, & the fun
& of the learning’s just begun

& of the stirring’s in your heart
That rise in you, ‘till you’re a part

Of what we call the River Tribe
Of open hearts & loving vibes

& of the union deep & true
& of the light that shines in you

Yet, now it’s time to close the lid!
Please hear the truth that won’t be hid!

We’re linked in love, where er we go
With rivers life & endless flow


(First published; Portaloo Publications, Reilly Street
Freedom Carpark 28/3/17)



Lament! Lament! For Reilly Street
You children of the poor!

The rich they came in freedom vans
& camped right at your door!

Lament! Lament! For Reilly Street
That’s where it all went wrong!

The rich they came in freedom vans
To sing their simple song –

True treasure’s found within the heart
There is no other place!

& love’s the hand that puts it there
& leads us on in grace

& wealth is found in unity
& freedom’s open arms

 We found it down at Reilly Street
Beside the river’s charms –

So drive on down to Reilly Street
& see the gate & chain!

& think of what you’re locking out
Then turn, & try again!


The rumours flew at Reilly Street
Upon that fateful day
The Council had a change of heart
It seemed that we could stay!

We have a year; the rumour said
Before the closing date
The town will come & talk with us
& help us navigate

& find a plan & warden too
So Reilly Street can shine
& Freedom Campers smile again
Before it’s closing time

The rumours were alas untrue!
But I think of them of late
Perhaps the angels started them
To shift the closing date?




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