Best Maori Poems


Demise of the Flax

Before you reach for your axe,
There are some facts you need to know about flax.

A Flax rope made well
Will get you safely out of the well.

With a little toil,
You can make money from flax seed oil,
Or a basket you should try
If you want to pay off your lay-bye.

You can't go awry
If you make a mat for a Marae (Maori Meeting house)
And many Flax cloaks
Have been made by Maori folk.
Why go to Scotland,
When you can get a Flax kilt in this land.
Your feet will not go rotten, 
With Flax on their bottom.

If fishing is your line,
Then a Flax line will do just fine.
And a Flax trap will get you an eel
For your meal.

A drink made from Flax flower nectar
Will need no added sugar.
If you are lucky you may see a Tui (NZ bird) or three
Getting their nectar for free. 

Now you have the facts on Flax first hand,
I hope you can see, demand though down,
May yet turn around and jobs could be found.

But if your axe is not yet away,
I have one last thing to say.
A saw with a chain bought from a store,
Will best suit your chore.
I know this for a fact,
As no-one was there when I reached for my axe.

Now I have no Flax and no axe.
No more Tui are within cooee
And my lay-bye has gone bye bye.

It is almost too much to bare,
Until I down more of my favourite beer
And I see a Tui once more.
Categories: maori, change,
Form: Rhyme

Poetry In An Urdu Nutshell

Garage       
stacked high
scribbled stenos of
an automatic act
of little understanding or thought-------------
{tuhituhi}

visceral finality       
zero return
zero reward
and then there's
a learning disability hindering the reading-------------
{panui}

writing       
is taking a dump, 
except after wiping, I tend to take a peek
this creative act ill affords a 2nd glance
a good day and bet the writing stinks... boring
jail or hospital equals readers galore 
"TELL ME MORE!"
could correlate with occupancy rates
what a sorry excuse of a poet I am 
damn if that ain't sayin' much.-----------
{paru}

~editor's note: Poetry Soup would not let the beautiful Urdu script be seen, so I substituted Maori~ :(
Categories: maori, poems, poetry, poets, self,
Form: Nazm

Treaty of Waitangi

In 1840 the Treaty of Waitangi  was signed,
from then to now the government can't hide,
freedom the Maori wanted, from oppressing minds
but what they got was almost cultural genocide.

First to go was the land,
next was the language suppressed by force,
legislation wrote favored only one man,
the marriage they talk of was now a divorce.

In 1980 Maori was finally recognized,
as a culture in this land, now we had a voice,
140 years it took to realize,
we educated ourselves,so we have a choice.

32 years later our fight still goes on,
still fighting the system for retribution sort,
they acknowledge now that they were wrong,
we always knew this, this is why we fort.

M.Mahauariki © 2012
Categories: maori, education,
Form: Rhyme

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


The Plastic Maori

I'm viewed as a plastic Maori,
because of the way I choose to live life,
moving with westerns trends,
away from traditional life.

This is all I have known,
being city born,
I did try to learn my Tikanga,
but I was severely scorned.

Don't talk that white trash they reckon,
what are you trying to prove,
bloody plastic Maori,
you ain't Tuturu.

From this point on wards,
I've struggle to fit in,
not knowing where I belong,
my identity taken.

I went back to my white world,
broke free from that cast,
forging my own identity,
free from there past.

The reason Maori struggle now, 
there too wrapped up in the past,
they really need to change,
because the western world is changing fast.

(Tiikanga - Maori Culture.
Tuuturu - True)

M.Mahauariki © 2012
Categories: maori, life, , western,
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member 800-Year-Old Tree

Maori legend
twisted pohutukawa-
the place of leaping
© Mark Toney  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: maori, death, mythology, tree,
Form: Haiku

Premium Member Sunrise On Mount Manaia

Only an inspired mortal such as I,
could feel the stimuli
synonymously woven in unison with the indigenous people,
who for centuries have inhabited this place.
The ‘Aotearoa Northland Maori’
Relating their verbal legends of old
complementing one’s majestic stance
here in the wilderness, a place where
the ancient Gods of Olympus would feel at home.
Here! I also stand in awe of you ‘Manaia’ guardian of the bay,
you with your shadowy creation which intimidates the serene waters
of the Pacific Ocean, lying dormant below.
Mortified crag laden face appearing to cry out
for assistance to the wayward breeze,
that it may hasten the removal of the ghostly grey veil,
compounded precariously within your stony crown, only then,
permitting the radiance of the brand new day to 
cast out the lingering nocturnal shadows,
exposing all that surrounds your
‘Monolithic presence’

© Harry J Horsman  2010
Categories: maori, day, nature,
Form: Free verse


Dying Language

The traditional Maori language, is a dying language,
you can see this over the decades,
laws passed by the government,
forced it to be this way.

My ancestors where beaten in schools,
for what was deemed a forked tongue,
constantly shamed and ridiculed,
in front of everyone.

Being a proud race,
emotions weren't meant to be shared,
so they stopped speaking there language,
for the white man they feared.

The next generation struggled,
caught in a violent time,
there parents reluctant to teach them,
because fear was always on there mind.

With each generation following the same trend,
the language became harder to learn,
only remnants remain now,
of a proud race that just got burned.

The language most spoken now,
come form the city's, it has been transformed.
European Maori widely is accepted,
very rarely can the old language be learned.

M.Mahauariki © 2012
Categories: maori, life, language, language,
Form: Rhyme

Finding the Balance Is a Riddle

Being a half breed,
isn't easy for me,
caught between worlds,
which you will soon see.

Not white enough to be European,
but I adhere to a lot of there beliefs,
the white Maori,
education wasn't a relief.

Not brown enough for the Maori's,
many traditional values have been lost,
seen as a traitor to the cause,
living the white way has it's cost.

I'm seen as an plastic Maori,
because I've been urbanized,
constantly burned at both ends,
because I won't pick a side.
 
There is no middle ground,
a side has to be chosen,
so long have they been fighting,
I don't want there poison.

Not white enough, not brown enough,
not even allowed to be in the middle,
so I will just be a kiwi,
because finding balance is a hard riddle.

M.Mahauariki © 2012
Categories: maori, life,
Form: Rhyme

An Alphabet of Instruments - Abc

A is for Accordion, squeezing air with bellows
B is for Banjo, five strings plucked by bluegrass fellows

C is for Clavichord, keyboard with a metal sound
D is for the Drums which percussionists will pro-pound

E is for the English horn, using a double-reed
F is for a brass French horn, three valves is all you need

G is for Glockenspiel, metal bars arranged in rows
H is for Harmonica, both in and out she blows

I is for Ingoma, on which skins or hides are drummed
J is for Jinghu,  just two strings that are bowed not strummed

K is for the Keytar, keyboard guitar held upright
L is for the Laser harp which plays on beams of light

M is for Maracas, their rhythm shaken by pros 
N is for Nguru, Maori flute blown through the nose

O is for the Oboe with a mouth-piece that looks bewitched
P is for the Piccolo,  a half-sized flute, high pitched

Q is for the Quena, a notched flute from the Andes
R is for the Rattle, maracas for the babies

S is for the Shofar,  a Jewish horn hard to blow
T is for the Tuba, largest horn and tough to tow.

U is Ukulele, four-string Hawaiian gee-tar
V is Viola, a fiddle tuned a bit deeper

W is the Washboard, just for rhythm, understood?
X is a Xylophone, a glockenspiel made of wood

Y is Yotar, a guitar with four strings grouped in threes
Z is Zither, played on the table or cross your knees

This alphabet of instruments just breaks through the top
The're hundreds more to know, but Z's a good place to stop.

March 11, 2013

Allright Poet's ABC Poetry Contest
Categories: maori, 11th grade, music,
Form: ABC

Self Propulsion

There was a wild drink-craving pair
Who an Aussie airliner’s fuel did share.
It made in their guts masses of gases
Propelling them south via their asses.
Maori swear they’re Maero from thin air.
Categories: maori, humor,
Form: Limerick

Why There Are No Snakes In New Zealand

The story is told of a Maori King bold
Who dared cheat the Prince of Siam.
I’ll leave it to you to decide if its true.
But if you're not convinced, at least I am!

This king was annoyed so he filled his bored void
By selling the fauna of his wee land.
He soon grew in fame, none dared speak his name,
He was the richest in all of New Zealand!

But this roll could not last; the fates swooped in fast
With an invoice for arrogant King Frodo!
A prince of yon borders sailed in with his order
For a half dozen snakes and some Dodo.

“The snakes are all gone!” Frodo said with a yawn.
"And we ate the last Dodo last week!”
Thus the king blew him off with a wave and a scoff;
“Look elsewhere for that which you seek!”

But the prince had prepaid! And he screamed out in rage,
“What is that in the cage with the hasp?”
King Frodo’s eyes narrowed, “I won that from Pharaoh,
And that, that’s a two-headed asp!”

“And though its not fair, it is simply too rare,
Now be off or I’ll soon have your head!”
But the prince made this threat, “Dear King you’ll regret!”
Then he left leaving Frodo to dread . . . . . . .

At daylight’s first gleam, you could hear Frodo scream
As he raced to the harbor to spy,
And lo, by the pier was a note on a spear . . .
“Keep my gold! . . . But kiss your asp goodbye!”


For the "Asp" Contest
Sponsored by Anthony Slausen
May 7, 2018
10th Place
© Dean Wood  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: maori, humorous, word play,
Form: Light Verse

Premium Member Dawn On Mount Manaia

Only inspired mortals can feel the stimuli
            synonymously woven within the indigenous people
                      who for centuries dwell in this place.
                         The ‘Aotearoa Northland Maori’
                          Relating verbal legends of old
                     complementing one’s majestic stance
                            in the wilderness, a place 
         the ancient Gods of Olympus would welcome as home.
                 Here! From where one stands a perception
                   one of understanding yet in awe of you. 
                                        ‘Manaia’ 
                             Guardian of ‘Taurikura bay’
                    With your phantom shroud intimidating 
     the serene waters of the Pacific Ocean lying dormant below.
             Mortified your crag laden face appearing to cry out
                     for assistance to the wayward breeze,
          that it may hasten the removal of the ghostly grey veil,
              compounded precariously within your stony crown, 
   only then licence to permit the radiance of the brand new day to 
                     cast out the lingering nocturnal shadows, 
                           exposing all that surrounds your
                                  ‘Monolithic presence’

   © Harry J Horsman  2016
Categories: maori, beauty, inspirational,
Form: Free verse

Banning Hangi

Prime Minister bands hangi,

racist thing to do,

the backlash is not funny,

silly little Jew.


(Hangi - a traditional Maori meal cooked in the ground, a practice Maori have used for more than 170 years)

9th place
Categories: maori, education, life,
Form: Chastushka

Colour

Do we see the world 
through rose coloured glasses 
Durst cut up the bodies of people
Psychologists say
He must have a mental illness
perhaps but the spanish
conquistadors cut up the bodies
of american indian babies
did they all have a mental illness
the New Zealand Maori
had the victory feast
where they sat and ate
the captives that lost their battle
culture after culture has been
cannibalistic treating each other
in horrible ways
did they all have mental problems
look back through history
and every culture every race
has treated others horribly
The American indian tied
a man legs to two different bending trees
and used the trees to split him in two
the Japanese Used slivers of bamboo
to take off one nail at a time
The English had hung drawn a quartered
a man was hung then dragged through the town
behind horses before being cut in four
with his head put on a stake 
to warn others 
not to break the law
The Russians attacked and killed
their Czar and his family
killing their aristocracy 
to create a Communistic state
do they all have a mental disorders
or are all people capable
of horrific behaviours
I don't think that
I could ever do what has been done
but how much
of who am i 
has been taught to me over the years
if I had been brought up in a different way
could I be a different person
How much do we owe to God
the bible teaches love thy neighbour
the bible became the foundation of our laws
is civilisation just a fabric
a facade 
an illusion
created to make ourselves feel better about life
are we progressing toward paradise on earth
or are we heading back into the depths 
of deprivation  
Is man just an animal waiting to be unleashed
or is he the scholar 
the lover waiting to grow
Imagine the bomb going down on Iraq
their metal fragments slicing like knives 
through a two year old
Granted they attack the world
they use children as cannon fodder bombs
when will human beings learn to love all people
no matter what colour we are all the same
Categories: maori, abuse, people, prejudice,
Form: Narrative

Music From a Stop Go Girl

Away with work 
Up Kaitaia way
I’d driven for miles
I’d driven all day.

In a beautiful place
I was feeling alone
So great was the distance
Between me and my home.

I came round a corner
To see works on the road
What gave me the grin
Was a sight to behold.

A stop go lady
She was dancing and moving 
Jiggling the booty 
Twirling and grooving

Funky and crazy
Not a care in the world
As I unwound the window
A smile she unfurled.

A gap toothed grin
From a proud Maori face
I told her she’d struck me
By her style and her grace.

“Bro it’s OK, 
It’s easy to me
When I’m out in the open
Feeling so free

Some think I’m crazy 
But I don’t really care
They don’t know my story
The music, only I hear.”

Then she boogied me through
As I beamed and I waved
A new rule for my future
On that day she paved.

4th October 2015
* Based on a true story
Categories: maori, beauty, encouraging, life, music,
Form: Rhyme
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