For the revival of this column I\u2019m doing a double-whammy: starting with a shimmering, deceptively simple poem by Hana Buchanan (Ng\u0101ti Haumia ki Te Aro, Taranaki iwi, Te Atiawa, Taranaki Wh\u0101nui ki te Upoko o te Ika) from her collection Kupu Whenua<\/a> and ending with a curious, funny-sad prose poem from James Brown\u2019s New Days for Old<\/a>.\u00a0<\/p>\n Hana Buchanan is a tangata toikupu \u2013 poet, kaikaranga, kaitito waiata \u2013 and her book, which includes gorgeous art by Nick Denton, is organised around the structure of pepeha or mihimihi: Maunga (mountain)\/ Wai (waterways)\/ K\u0101inga (home) \/Waka (waka)\/ Manu (birds)\/ Whet\u016b-Whet\u016brangitia (Stars and those who have become stars). Buchanan lives and works from her ancestral lands in Te Whanganui-a-Tara and, thematically, her written work speaks to her lived experience of being mana whenua in a colonised place as well as her desire to share and uplift the stories of the land we live on. Kupu Whenua contains works in te reo M\u0101ori, \u201ccompanion pieces\u201d (note, not translations) in English and some bilingual poems, too.\u00a0<\/p>\n The te reo M\u0101ori version of the poem is printed first, and then I\u2019ll analyse the companion piece, which is in English.<\/p>\n Paek\u0101k\u0101 i te p\u014d\u00a0<\/p>\n Kua taka te p\u014d \u2013 Te ara mamaku Rikoriko mai E ng\u0101 whet\u016b rikiriki waiwai\u0101 Paek\u0101k\u0101 i te p\u014d (ii)<\/p>\n Night descends The mamaku-lined path Little glistening drops of water, Tiny little glow-worms: \u2013 Hana Buchanan, Kupu Whenua<\/p>\n Reading notes:<\/p>\n Let\u2019s start with the title: Paek\u0101k\u0101 i te p\u014d (ii). The (ii) indicates that this is the companion piece to the te reo version that comes before it. Paek\u0101k\u0101 means the realm, or perch, of the k\u0101k\u0101 and refers to the land that the Wellington Botanic Garden ki Paek\u0101k\u0101 was created on, and \u201ci to p\u014d\u201d let us know we\u2019re in the gardens at night.\u00a0<\/p>\n Night descends I love the way that \u201cNight\u201d is active: \u201cit descends\u201d, and that the trees belong to it \u2013 \u201cits trees\u201d. This evokes that uncanny transformation that happens to our familiar landscapes once the sun has gone and night comes down. Here, the trees are \u201cupright and constant\u201d but they\u2019re now of the realm of the moon and stars. \u201cA moonlit passage\u201d sends shivers down the spine and invites us deeper in. The \u201cunfolding forwards\u201d is a surprise in away: the unfolding brings to mind fabric, or the sense of material which is such an apt way to describe the way moonlight renders land in new ways, texturally and sensually. The \u201cforwards\u201d is another compelling, propulsive step into the poem \u2013 particularly the way these two words drop down the stanza, unfolding.<\/p>\n The mamaku-lined path The path has now gathered specificity: \u201cmamaku-lined\u201d. And I can bring to mind, exactly, the ferns that guard the botanic garden paths; their dark structures and light limbs. Here, at night, they\u2019re shading the traveller from starlight and bringing the night sky down into their world. Buchanan deftly mirrors the \u201cgalaxies\u201d of the night with the \u201cuniverse\u201d of the whenua, the roots as abundant as the Milky Way. I love the way this flips the pathway of the traveller: as if we are now walking over the night and into the secrets of the earth.<\/p>\n Little glistening drops of water, Tiny little glow-worms: The final stanza burrows into the imagery and gives us droplet stars that mirror the night. \u201cTwinkle, glitter, glow and shine\u201d returns us to a childlike state of wonder. And then, the final surprise, the glow-worm! Even stranger still is that tiny creature that creates its own light and makes a night sky of dim, dark banks and rocks and caves. The voice of the poem surrenders to awe: \u201cAstounded\u201d and begins a conversation. I said before this poem is deceptively simple: and I mean that in the same way that the night can be simple but is in fact intensely complex the closer you look. Paek\u0101k\u0101 i to p\u014d (ii) revels in the beauty and strangeness and magic of existing with, and alongside, nature.\u00a0<\/p>\n I\u2019ve known James Brown\u2019s poetry for a long time: I remember being awed by his linguistic agility when I heard him recite \u2018Popocatepetl\u2019 years ago \u2013 and have long admired his ability to seemingly reach for an endless reserve of vocabulary and make a poem sing and soar with surprise. The latest collection, New Days for Old, is a series of \u201cprose poems\u201d that illustrate, step by step, a lifetime. Each page carries a verse, a scene, and is odd yet familiar. The poem I\u2019ve chosen below comes early, on page 8, and has no title.\u00a0<\/p>\n People\u2019s natures on display everywhere you turn. \u2013 James Brown, New Days for Old<\/p>\n Reading notes:<\/p>\n People\u2019s natures on display everywhere you turn. I love the disappointment of these opening lines. You think that maybe \u201cpeople\u2019s natures on display\u201d might be specific aesthetic styles, expressions, ways of walking. But it\u2019s just boring old eyes on phones, which is sadly so common as to be true.<\/p>\n You can\u2019t wait to be given one, but in the meantime But what a twist! \u201cYou can\u2019t wait to be given one\u201d! Who is this person? Well, the answer in the hilarious following line and a half: \u201cin the meantime \/ demand the pierced nipple lactate into your mouth.\u201d That\u2019s a bottle; which means the subject of this poem is a baby.\u00a0<\/p>\n Outside a bumper sticker shouts Burn Coal \u2013 Drive Oh, god. First the phones, now the climate crisis. What world is this baby emerging into? Ours. What is it, exactly, that makes the baby want to crawl away and cry, though? The knowledge of what they are to endure? Or the nature of cars themselves, so loud and bullying?\u00a0<\/p>\n which, when released you do, because, at 8 months old, Ha! James Brown is wonderfully deft. This ending is both funny and awful. The familiar voice of the proud parent is there (all parents think their baby is miraculous) but in fact the subject of this poem is advanced, or at least we\u2019re led to believe they might be by the slant of the scene. The voice speaking to the \u201cyou\u201d of the poem (this is second person perspective) is instructing that the subject (baby) is responding directly to the bumper sticker. Is this because the baby is already cognisant of the world\u2019s foibles and catastrophes and has instincts enough to run, scared and upset? Or is the voice layering wisdom and experience and language onto our innocent? Probably, both. Either way, poor baby! It\u2019s unfortunately all true but if you read Hana Buchanan\u2019s poem, above, you\u2019ll also learn there\u2019s beauty and wonder to be found, too.<\/p>\n Kupu Whenua by Hana Buchanan is being launched at an event at 3pm, March 29 at Grand Hall, Old Museum Building, Buckle St, Pukeahu, the maunga for Te Aro P\u0101; and is available to pre-ordered from Unity Books<\/a>. New Days for Old by James Brown is being launched at 6pm, April 23 at Unity Books Wellington, alongside Dinah Hawkens\u2019 forthcoming book Peace & Quiet, and can be purchased from Unity Books.<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"Claire Mabey close-reads poetry by Hana Buchanan and James Brown. I\u2019ve have declared 2026 my year of rest…\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":348665,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[489,56613,185236,22612,185237,111,185238,43,139,69],"class_list":["post-348664","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-new-zealand","tag-books","tag-climate-crisis","tag-how-to-read-a-poem","tag-james-brown","tag-maori-poetry","tag-new-zealand","tag-new-zealand-poetry","tag-news","tag-newzealand","tag-nz"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/348664","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=348664"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/348664\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/348665"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=348664"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=348664"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/nz\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=348664"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
t\u016b tonu ana ng\u0101 r\u0101kau
He ara atarau
e hora ake mai nei<\/p>\n
e huna ai i ng\u0101 tini whet\u016b
an\u014d nei Te Mang\u014droa
an\u014d nei he ikarangi k\u0113
ngunungunu ai
i ng\u0101 pakiaka huhua<\/p>\n
whakah\u012bn\u0101tori mai
titia mai
K\u0101tahi te whakaohomauri
pai nei!<\/p>\n
E ng\u0101 titiwai, t\u0113n\u0101 koutou!<\/p>\n
its trees rising upright and constant
A moonlit passage
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 unfolding forwards<\/p>\n
hides a swirl of stars
It\u2019s as if the Milky Way
and other galaxies too
are snuggled in
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 to a universe of roots<\/p>\n
tiny stars
twinkle, glitter, glow and shine<\/p>\n
Astounded, we greet you! <\/p>\n
its trees rising upright and constant
A moonlit passage
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0unfolding forwards<\/p>\n
hides a swirl of stars
It\u2019s as if the Milky Way
and other galaxies too
are snuggled in
\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0to a universe of roots<\/p>\n
tiny stars
twinkle, glitter, glow and shine<\/p>\n
Astounded, we greet you!<\/p>\nHana Buchanan standing at Pukeahu maunga with her pukapuka, Kupu Whenua. (Photo: Julia Sabugosa).<\/p>\n
Looking around, your eyes meet heads bowed to phones.
You can\u2019t wait to be given one, but in the meantime
demand the pierced nipple lactate into your mouth.
Outside a bumper sticker shouts Burn Coal \u2013 Drive
Electric. This makes you want to crawl away and cry,
which, when released you do, because, at 8 months old,
you hear whatever you do \u2018is very advanced\u2019. <\/p>\n
Looking around, your eyes meet heads bowed to phones.<\/p>\n
demand the pierced nipple lactate into your mouth.<\/p>\n
Electric. This makes you want to crawl away and cry,<\/p>\n
you hear whatever you do \u2018is very advanced\u2019.<\/p>\nJames Brown (Photo: Russell Kleyn)<\/p>\n