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We invite you to join us and sup­port this unique and wor­thy project, to ensure that Hone Tuwhare, his life, work and con­tri­bu­tion to the arts in Aotearoa are remem­bered and honoured.

Help us to pre­serve a legacy 

Vis­it  ‘Hone Tuwhare Face­book page’

Vol­un­teer — If you have a skill that may help us to reach our goals, let us know

Make a Dona­tion — The Trust wel­comes dona­tions from as lit­tle as $5 … or more. Please use your name as a ref­er­ence and email us if you’d like a receipt. We are a reg­is­tered char­i­ta­ble trust, so dona­tions are tax deductible.  Hone Tuwhare Char­i­ta­ble Trust BNZ  02 0144 0134585 000

To con­tact the Trust:

tuwharetrust@gmail.com

 

Hotere

When you offer only three
ver­ti­cal lines pre­cise­ly drawn 
and set into a dark pool of lacquer
it is a visu­al kind of starvation:

and even though my eyeballs
roll up and over to peer inside
myself, when I reach the beginning
of your eter­ni­ty I say instead: hell
let’s have anoth­er feed of mussels

Like, I have to think about it, man

When you stack hor­i­zon­tal lines
into ver­ti­cal columns which appear
to advance, recede, shim­mer and wave
like explod­ing packs of cards
I mere­ly grunt and say: well, if it
is not a famine, it’s a feast

I have to roll anoth­er smoke, man

But when you score a superb orange
cir­cle on a pur­ple thought-base
I shake my head and say: hell, what
is this thing called aro­ha

Like, I’m euchred, man. I’m eclipsed?

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