Poncy Poetry Thursday: Zed

I promised some poetry this week, and I am happy to deliver!

Now, this piece is not new or even recent; I wrote it seven years ago. But it is relevant to where I am these days, as it is about New Zealand (which will be obvious to anyone who reads the first two lines, or who knows me at all). I count my time in that country as some of the best experiences of my life (and a few of the worst, maybe, but I chalk it all up to the good, because I learned and I GREW). I have been back in my home country for oh, almost twelve years now? And the ache for New Zealand is as strong as it ever was. I miss it like you’d miss a person – a lover who has left you, or a family member who has passed away. Sometimes the longing for my “second home” is so strong I feel it as an actual physical pain.

East Cape, New Zealand – my favorite place on the planet.

I knew for practically a decade that I wanted to write Aroha. But I needed time, lots and lots of time, to formulate my thoughts and come to terms with who and what it would be about. It had to marinate, and I let my thoughts sit in their own juices for a very long time. During that period of reflection, I occasionally wrote other things, such as this poem. I don’t think it’ll win any awards any time soon, but it reflects my thoughts and feelings on an era of my life gone by, and definitely paved the way for the two books I would one day write.

triumphing slowly
my consciousness awakening
to a missing;
a leathery, paper thin feeling
a wanting

the salt and pepper air
the gale
the spray, the sea-slow island time

the wind my gravity

I no longer feel sand in my shoes
as I walk – the pressure pull
the tepid sky
I no longer feel secretive, sly
I no longer have a calling-card by which to breathe
I no longer close my eyes
when I lie

the air cryptic and pressing
the looming stresses of our digestive systems
the media-frantic tipsy torvy gangfuck of a

I miss shells, I miss green rolling hills
I miss legalities and honest moralities
I miss finding beauty in a big nose,
sex in a slang
interest in a voice.

I miss unique-ity.

Were I to land
on yours today
I would bend on knee
and kiss your earth

a torrent of tropicality

the kind of nonsense you could appreciate

with a word like zed
you could build empires

empires of laid-back stepped-back
unassuming true representations
of humanity
fuck commerciality
fuck conventionality
competition belongs in a stadium
and love is in our homes

we are all judged equally,
and by that not at all.

Your speck of earth
your brood
stand tall

I miss the squeak and squawk
of ‘fush and chups’
the molly mawk
I miss the kowhai, the koru,
the L&P
the useless abundance of

I miss a time and place
unspoiled by western practicality

you’ll forever belong to me

Copyright 2009 Lillah Lawson

In Whitianga.

If you’re not into all this poncy prose, and are just here for Hemi and Miranda, click here to take part in the latest giveaway. You could score yourself a free digital copy of Aroha, so you can catch up on the story before Ka Kite comes out next month! Today is the last day, so hurry! Stay tuned for more information about Ka Kite and other projects I’m working on.


By lillahlawson

Author of Monarchs Under the Sassafras Tree (Regal House, 2019), and the Dead Rockstar Trilogy (Parliament House, 2020). Georgia Author of the Year Nominee. Poet, Essayist, Genealogist.

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