Ati Teepa Poet

17/12/2023

Kua kawa te rono o tenei marama a Hakihea ki ahau mai to wehena brother. Ko au tenei ka oma mai te kaina i te kaha ngau o te nakau mou. Heoi anei au kei runa o Pukekura e haku ana mou bro. E moteatea ana mou.

Kua mau a manawa
ki na toka.

Ko koe tera e naro atu
ana ki te rehutai.

Umere ana a Karoro,
kia huri to kei.

Kia hoki mai ki uta,
auareake.

E tīhaehae ana au
kia marini noa a toto.

Kia turuturu mai ko
Roimata.

Ki a koe e whakahoki nei
I to inoa ki na tipuna.

Maraki!

My heart is snagged
on the rocks.

As you fade into
the sea mist.

The Gulls scream out
turn your prow.

That you return to land,
It’s f**ken hopeless.

I’m tearing my flesh
till my blood runs.

And my tears
stream.

As you return your
name to the ancestors.

Maraki!

22/10/2023

Kia ora e hoa ma,
ka nehua to matou bro a Ivan ki Pūpūaruhe I te ra nei. Moe mai ra e te ranatira.
Wrote these Kupu just now as our whanauna Ivan Is buried at his waahi tapu. The bro Justin came to send him off to Hinenuitepo in full mana motuhake
style.

The chief mourner came in
full regalia.
Hair out.
Black paru smeared across his face.
Toki buried in maro,
next to his erect Taiaha.
Hair cinched tight by a black braid,
adorned with a skull.

We offered him shelter from the sun,
and a can of coke.

He just finished shouting his
angry greeting to the grave digger.

“Who the f**k are you motherf**ker?”

They yell to each other.

Called each other c**t,
as they hongi.
In the middle of the road.

The chief mourner isn’t wearing his glasses.
It’s doesn’t go
With his regalia.

-for brother Ivan.

14/10/2023

Witi Ihimaera said something the other day at the Dunedin Writers & Readers Festival about leaving the land of safety for the land of danger. With the election results bringing the right tō government, some may think we are indeed heading into the land of danger. I reckon we have always lived in the land of danger, as indigenous and especially for the Palestinian people. Anyway here’s some words I wrote thanks to Witi’s korero.

We come from a land of danger
where we are safest.

Safety is somewhere in fairytales,
of dragons and princesses in towers
and charming princes and colonising ships.

Our land is full of pigsh*ts and politicians
and whanau sleeping in cars.

the land of danger is fenced off so we
only occupy a sliver of our old stories.

Our mauri vibrates dangerously,
sending red f**k off vibes.

We walk with heavy footsteps so you can
hear our approach and get out our way.

And we don’t know you or trust you,
we don’t even speak the same.

We will always be the quietest,
we will always be in the back of the hall.

In the land of danger we don’t vote.

What’s the f**ken point,
Cause we will never be safe here.

-for Gaza.

13/10/2023

Kia ora e hoa ma,
Thanks to the Hone Tuwhare Charitable Trust and the Dunedin Writers & Readers Festival for having me attend my first ever literary festival as a poet/writer. Honoured to be here to share my poems and to represent Hone as best as I am able. I got to meet and be around some of Aotearoa’s best writers. Which can only help this journey of words. Toi te kupu! Toi te mana Maori motuhake!

07/10/2023

Kia ora e hoa ma, kei te heke au ki Otepoti a tera wiki mo te Dunedin Writers & Readers Festival. E Mihi Ana ki na kaiwhakahaere, aku hoa tuhituhi rotarota, me te taniwha whao kupu a Hone Tūwhare.
Kia ora to the Dunedin Writers and Readers festival and the Hone Tuwhare Charitable Trust for including me in the festival programme. Honoured to be able to share my kupu alongside some amazing poets and writers. If you in Otepoti come heckle me at either of the two events I’ll be at.as always thank you Hone!

25/09/2023

Kia ora tatou,
No tera wiki i oti ai i a matou ko Owen Dippie ko Tame Iti i tenei mahi toi ki Taneatua. He whakanui i tenei tanata nākau māhaki a Nikapūru Tākuta.
Last week we completed this mural in Taneatua alongside my bros Owen and Tame. A memorial and celebration of Nikapūru Tākuta. Stout of heart

Here’s some words.

We are painting a black wall blacker.

The bro is going to roll white British Paint
to make space for your kanohi.

Paint you in a gradient of colours from black
to grey to white.

Black for the beginning.

White for the end.

Grey for all the shades of a life lived.

E Nikapūru.

-for a nākau māhaki.

Tame Iti.
Owen Dippie.
Aue Tūhoe.

📸 Erin Dippie

06/09/2023

Come to Woof! In Otepoti on election day. Part of the readers and writers festival. Dunedin Writers & Readers Festival

A Soapbox Political Poetry event at the writers festival is ‘not exempt from the election day rules’, says the regulator.

15/08/2023

Kia ora e hoa ma,
I have been enjoying writing some of my poems in kokowai. I’m working on a series of earth poems written with the earth. I will be selling a limited number of these, so keep an eye out for details if you’re interested.

“They birth beauty”
2023.
Ruatoki Kokowai
(A2 300gsm cotton fibre paper)

03/08/2023

Kia ora e hoa ma,
I kite au i te tohuna nei a Ross Hemara e mahi ana i āna mahi toi ki DPAG ina tahi ra. E rakuraku ana i na tohu tahito hei mahi hou. Tenei kanohi kai mātārae, me tōna rinatoi e arotahi ana kia hurahia mai he toi whakairo. Tena koe e te Rakatira, miharo te mātaki.
I saw Ross Hemara quietly creating a new artwork behind glass at DPAG on Wednesday. He was a study of focus and intention. It was a meditation to observe as he etched his marks onto the canvas. A very rare privilege, that I quietly observed on the other side of the glass doors. Anyway heres some words for Ross Hemara.

Your quietly scratching marks
on the other side of the glass.

Leaving rock symbols
on new material.

Hunched over the tall table
quietly revealing minds eye.

Hurahia Ana Ka Whetu.

Is written on the doors
to the next gallery.

As you hura whatever you
are creating.

Ross.

Standing,

leaning,
against that tall table.

Beyond the sign that’s
telling me the colours
of your awa are pale.

Like Faded moko,

e horotea ana.

Beyond the clear glass,
e te rakatira.

Ross.

28/07/2023

It’s like your holding
your chin up.

In defiant pūkana.

Are you facing away from
or toward them.

Fu**ed off at them all.

Is this the last possible place left
before earth turns to ocean?

And you just won’t take
one more step.

To become reef
or island.

As far from the mountains
and their cold shoulders.

Facing first light
and warmth.

Aunty.

Wearing your bitter Horopito cloak,
with your chin patterned by
Rua’s basalt uhi.