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liberalism rots my brain and breaks my heart

emotions are cast as a lack of objectivity needing to be overcome and cut out.

emotions are not insight they are impediment.

a threat to someone’s wellbeing and dignity is cast as a difference of opinion, that we can agree to disagree that there is no target on your back.

while you are walking up hill into the wind with your possessions rolling down the bank, the world is warped into a frame, call it a “level playing field”

as if an elite group doesn’t own and run the pitch, profit from the rent, write the rulebook and hire the referees.
my poetry class pains me so much i have to write poems about it, maybe it is helping????
My finger is strung up like ham,
I will cleaver it off
Oil the pan
And chuck it in the oven
On the table someone will complain about the bone
'I don’t like bones in my food'
I will be soothing myself,
Rubbing my stinging,
streaming stump.
Petrified would
Smoothed down by sand and time
Almost hollow like birds bone
I want to club you over the head
I will float with it, clutch it
I will be soggy, long before the water soaks all the way to the core of the tree’s bone.
i wrote this in class cuz i hate my poetry class
i am driving to the airport in reverse, crying
aching at how lonely my spine will be, without your body
behind me
an unbound book.
the fear of empty
cold
hands
yours are always so warm.

a plane lands backwards from Iceland to Dunedin.
you arrive.
i kiss you and hug you and kiss you and hug you
and tell you goodbye.
we enter a bookshop,
“it’s your flight, petal, time to go”
we only find overpriced Sudoku books.
we look at socks.
we drink drinks, then buy them.
we go down the escalator back to front,
we take the stickers off your suitcase.
i drive back to your house with
you in the front seat, beside me.
we unpack the car,
go up the path
pat your cat goodbye
put your clothes away
your posters back on your wall.
get back into bed
we come
and then we ****.
this poem is a significant event backwards
His fingers are removed from inside me
his hand taken out of my pants
the pain fades away
until it never
happened.


I remove his ugly old tshirt
my blue lace blouse is back on
comforting against my skin
I walk out of his house.
I’ve never
been there before.


His phone number
leaves from my phone
digit
by digit.


His smothering
cigarette
beer breath
mouth
walks away from me.
He has never
touched me.


His texts fly away into nothing.
He has never
contacted me.


I have a picnic with my friends in reverse.
We regurgitate cake until it’s whole,
then take them back to our houses
out of our ovens
until it’s batter.
Just ingredients on our shelves
that can be made differently next time.


Everything happens in reverse
until it hasn’t
happened.

Until it’s better.
tw/cw for ****** abuse.

this poem is a backwards account of an experience of ****** abuse from a significant other.
New Zealand culture,
a fragility,
tainted by violence.
Colonisation.

Writers have examined,
the loss of Maori land.
Less common however,
is writing concerned with
the benefits,
accruing to white people
as a result of the acquisition
of this land.

Colonisation has provided,
Economic and social advantages,
to white people,
in contemporary New Zealand.

A hierarchy,
white Western culture,
sitting uncontested,
at its pinnacle.

The cultural capital that whiteness provides.
Unearned advantages at our disposal.
Live our lives with greater ease:
Homeownership.
Health.
Education.
The ‘Justice’ System.
Institutional privilege.
A political separation.

The white New Zealand system,
designed for whites.
To get through school,
have good health,
get jobs,
get a little justice.
If the system was designed,
for Maori people
it would not be the way it is now.

Overrepresentation of Maori,
in every
negative
New Zealand
social statistic.

The persistence of *******.
Society provides greater opportunities,
to white people,
by disadvantaging those who are not.
Unacknowledged,
debilitating, racism.

Being oblivious,
sustains a belief,
in white superiority.

While factors:
socioeconomic status, gender,
sexuality, disability,
may impact the degree to which,
individual white people,
can access privilege.
On some level,
every white person,
in New Zealand
benefits from their skin.
Maori are made fun of for being benefit users. The title is a pun given all the benefits white people get.

Also this was a found poem from the academic article White Privilege: Exploring the (in)visibility of Pakeha whiteness by Claire Frances Gray.
treetops break the uniform silhouette
of the hills.
the sky is sky blue
with faintest wisp
of cloud.
like grey hair.
i am aging too.
cars race past uncaring.
******* lines the streets,
Nina Simone asks me if she moves me.
almost nothing moves me out of bed.
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