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Shout ha! to the sky / Robert Sullivan.

By: Sullivan, Robert, 1967-.
Material type: materialTypeLabelBookPublisher: London : Salt Pub., 2010Description: [x], 103 pages ; 22 cm.Content type: text Media type: unmediated Carrier type: volumeISBN: 9781844714551 (pbk.); 1844714551 (pbk.).Subject(s): Maori -- Poetry | Colonization -- Poetry | Maori (New Zealand people) -- Poetry | New Zealand -- Colonization -- PoetryGenre/Form: New Zealand poetry -- 21st century.DDC classification: NZ821.2
Histories -- Poetics -- Tikanga/customs -- Personal -- Foreshore and seabed poems.
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Item type Current location Collection Call number Copy number Status Date due
Non-Fiction Davis (Central) Library
Non-Fiction 821 SUL 1 Available
Te Taurawhiri Non-Fiction Davis (Central) Library
Te Taurawhiri
Te Taurawhiri 821 SUL 2 Available

Enhanced descriptions from Syndetics:

Shout Ha! to the Sky explores history and contemporary life from a Maori person's perspective, and seeks to restore possibilities removed through the forces of colonialism. The poetry is intimate, wry, funny, angry and always loving. It weaves into and dialogues with multi-genre work by a range of Pacific authors such as Anne Salmond, Albert Wendt, Haunani-Kay Trask, Witi Ihimaera, and the late Hone Tuwhare, as well as writing from outside the Pacific by Anna Seward, W.B.Yeats, Ezra Pound, Keats, Vijay Seshadri, Dante Alighieri.

Poems, some previously published.

1. Histories -- 2. Poetics -- 3. Tikanga/customs -- 4. Personal -- 5. Foreshore and seabed poems.

11 27 79 114 115 151 164

Excerpt provided by Syndetics

35 Biographical DataA distant shore, another slip of land fished out by the trickster,or unmouthed by Pele near the house of the rising sun,Hale-a-ka-la on the eponymous island of Maui. Why am I so far?Where is home now that my earth mother is Papahanaumoku?Tangaroa himself is diasporic Kanaloa.I am a Polynesian migrant become no longer tangata whenua herein this State where Cook's parts lie. Hawaiki here is Kahiki,which is at least the same as Rangiātea, temple centre of the world.My waka has lost its k, become a wa'a, but not its mojo.Why am I here? Am I an exile? My country has been settledby another race, become another place: New Zealand. Yet can I sayit's better here? The climate's wonderful. When I go to Aotearoathe chill hurts my bones and that's the warm spots! Yet I'm Maori.I am Irish. I am Scottish. My English ancestor Wynyard ended upgoverning the colony. My Ngāti Manu ancestor Pomare's namecomes from Tahiti, and I take satisfaction in that too. My selvesclap and sing dirges, shanties, and waiata to bone flutes,bagpipes, and ribboned tambourines. My selves collect in meand I label each with post-its. But labels don't stick to the ocean.They don't plant themselves happily on waka prows and sterns.I am here and I am not here. I am in several places at once.This poem is peeling. I need some sunscreen -- 30+ and waterproof. Excerpted from Shout Ha! to the Sky by Robert Sullivan All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.