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taonga pūoro

Dunedin in 2021 has been blessed ta fuck with arts festivals; March was the Dunedin Fringe, April was the Arts Festival Dunedin, and shortly in May we’ll be enjoying the Dunedin Writers & Readers Festival.

The Fringe Fest was dope, and the Arts Fest included an immense array of talent. I managed to get myself to just one Arts Fest event — Bridget Douglas and Alistair Fraser at St Paul’s Cathedral.

While at their performance I found myself just beaming and glowing and closing my eyes and writing notes frantically. It was a wonderful experience. I understand Bridget and Al have since worked with a studio to record the pieces and I really hope we will all be able to purchase/stream/listen shortly.

I wrote a few stanzas while I was listening, enamoured, within the Cathedral. Since then I took a second whack at it. Below you will find the poem I have written to hopefully encapsulate the 55mins.

Whakarongo mai; panuihia.

In Response to Bridget Douglas and Alistair Fraser performing at St Paul’s Cathedral, Dunedin, April 2021
 
Te ao Māori, te ao Pākehā
commingle like brackish water
a world of its own
in quarter tones
flourishing new known-unknowns
 
Small birds appear
from his mouth
tiny peeps call
and another sings back
from her flute and now from his arm
pūrerehua escape the bullroarer
in four flutes and wood cocoons
soft breathy blows tickle psyche skin
 
Pounamu shard spins
a detached wing
ringing in turns
bass flute oscillates
human to whale to wind
kiwi snuffling in the ferns
 
Here
his nose begins
air cycles weave
whip back and forth like Tāwhirimātea
they reach out and catch a sea
her whale sings with Takaroa
wails to the shore of us
breath leaving a body
is a karakia
 
Nodding
a dance of skulls
birds of stone and wood and silver
bounce off each other’s lungs
the path appears only as each step is made
I am being called
raised from this shell
to forest oceans and rock walls
ruru peek out
exhale.
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