kani te manukura
te pōrere
te pōrere
where the night is a cloak
dropped from
the bones of the sky
the black descends
quick
where the realm
of potential
holds tight
to the realm
of light
one smelling
of sweet
gunpowder tang
the other echoing
distant shouts
suddenly
up close
i can smell
their fear
desperation
determination
in my own
sweat
te pōrere
where te ao mārama
sticks
all caught up
on itself
the fabric
of the universe
gathers twists
folds in on itself
where with each
swoop through
branching bush
tūī stitch
time to space:
wā to wā
sewing like this
creates holes
haphazardly sized
through which
different points
of the race-time
continuum
bleed through
into each other
it’s how the wīwī
wraps around
the wāwā
weft through warp
dextrals under sinistrals
tūī tui tuia
LISTEN to ‘Te pōrere’ by kani te manukura
kani te manukura. ngāi tūhoe. hunter/gatherer/grower/cook/storyteller. kani lives a life of quiet rebellion in a small seaside town. this is both better and worse than it sounds. kani also finds writing about himself in the third person quite odd.
manukura comments: ‘these words came to me whilst on pilgrimage to te pōrere, where te kooti, māori geurilla resistance leader & prophet of te haahi ringatu, fought the last major battle of the colonial invasion of aotearoa in October 1869. 37 of his warriors were killed at te pōrere and buried in one spot at the site. while i was there i had to persuade an English tourist not to camp on top of their grave.
‘i’m sure that all has something to do with it, but like most of the words that come out of the wīwī-wāwā and through me, i don’t really know what “te pōrere” is about. i don’t see it as my role to make up meanings, that’s a game for the reader to play’
Links
pāterehi ki te pō