Purple chaos – Alistair Campbell

Purple chaos – Alistair Campbell

‘Chaos is purple,’ you said.
‘A painter’s phrase,’ I said,
disagreeing.
‘Chaos is a colourless force
tossing up stars, flowers
and children,
and has no beginning
and no end.’
But lying in bed,
washed up,
I know you are right.
You were talking of something else –
You were talking of death.
Purple chaos has surged through me,
leaving me stranded –
a husk,
an empty shell
on a long whit swerving beach.

Something has died,
something precious has died.
It may have been a flower,
a star,
it may have been a child –
but whatever it was, my love,
it seems to have died.




O'Sullivan, V. (Ed.). (1979). An anthology of twentieth century New Zealand poetry. Wellington: Oxford University Press.