Spoken Word Poetry Workshop by Zech Soakai

The Lowdown

Learn how to express yourself and share your thoughts and feelings through the art of poetry, in this easy to follow spoken word workshop hosted by Zech Soakai.  

Zech is a published poet who began learning his craft in community open mics held out across South Auckland and stands on the shoulders of many giants before him. 
His work can be read in the anthologies: Rapture: An Anthology of Performance Poetry from Aotearoa/New Zealand & Katūīvei: A New Anthology of Contemporary Oceanic Pacific Aotearoa New Zealand poets. His work can also be seen at Tāmaki Paenga Hira (Auckland War Memorial Museum) & digitally on YouTube.

Learn how to express yourself and share your thoughts and feelings through the art of poetry, in this easy to follow spoken word workshop hosted by Zech Soakai.  

Spoken Word Poetry Workshop - Zech Soakai | The Lowdown Aotearoa

Spoken Word Poetry Workshop - Zech Soakai

Te kore, Te po, Te ao Marama by Ivy Lyden-Hancy

In Te kore, Te po, Te ao Marama, 17-year-old poet Ivy Lyden-Hancy's words speak to her identity as a wahine Māori in a changing world. Surrounded by the lasting impacts of colonisation, Ivy paints a picture of the Aotearoa that was, and that one day could be.

In Te kore, Te po, Te ao Marama, poet Ivy Lyden-Hancy's words speak to her identity as a wahine Māori in a changing world.

Te kore, Te po, Te ao Marama - Ivy Lyden-Hancy | The Lowdown Aotearoa

Te kore, Te po, Te ao Marama - Ivy Lyden-Hancy

i walk through concrete rivers 
Wairoa lingering through powerlines
surrounded by rakau 
which has been manufactured 
manipulated 
into the warmth of one’s home 
many homes 
white picket fences and 
sky tower brown 

as i look up to pukekiwiriki 
laying at the sickle of this maunga 
i imagine i am my tupuna
our tangata from before
surrounded by rakau of lush forests 
While melodies of te manu engulf me in its mana 
While wahine moving through grub and fern 
stripping the white man's grass off all infinite crossways 
i replace it with kowhai 
                                  pohutakawa 
                   kauri
pikopiko
all things Māori 

to be Māori is to imagine aotearoa before colonisation 
to be grounded amongst papa 
amongst the kumara pits
their flagstaff will fall 
a tohu that we have taken our whenua back 
our tikanga 
our tangata
holy hands of concrete statues will reach out to me 
amongst the rubble
 they will speak reo pakeha 
a constant reminder of what they have taken from us 

in that we will remove the ink of our ta moko
unbury the mass graves 
remove our taonga from the museums 
reclaim our reo 

they will be at the end of our pū
our rangatira behind us on the path they have paved 
tapu tinana 
tapu wairoa 
aotearoa te tapu whenua 
amene

In 'A Body Apology', 16-year-old Angelina Faupula addresses the struggles that we face to accept our bodies with their flaws and differences, the impact of a society that tells us that only their version of 'perfect' is acceptable. 

In 'A Body Apology', Angelina Faupula addresses the struggles that we face to accept our bodies with their flaws and differences, the impact of a society that tells us that only their version of 'perfect' is acceptable.

A Body Apology - Angelina Faupula | The Lowdown Aotearoa

A Body Apology - Angelina Faupula

Iho u’afa sisu kalaisi
in his name 
formless yet formed us 
in his image

But the image I see is not what I like 
And these thighs i see are too big 
And this face i have is not small enough 
And the stomach that I have is not small enough
Expect me to trust a mirror that only sees skin deep 
A mirror that responds only with what it sees 
But doesn’t learn how i've carried myself 

Confusion stench 
Wondering why people mock 
Gods greatest creation 
Judgemental outcomes of envious lions 
And tigers claw scratches 
On our hips 

The reflection of the sea 
Embedded deeply into my skin 
That rips through 
This sacred temple 

Sacred 
‒‒a word only given to women 
To hide the fact they do not want you to see all of them 
Tremble in fear incase giving pieces of them will break a part of us 

To camouflage this God given gift 
they replace with hate they have for this body 
The same body that's carried the weight of my heart 
Even when my legs were giving up 

But even still
We criticise this imperfection that makes even the angels jealous 
My body scarred with more comment than scars 
I’ve apologised more times in my head then i have out loud 
But i get you’ve never gotten an official apology 

So I apologise to this body that was made by god
But still somehow not made to feel like it was enough
I apologise to this body for the moments I have forgotten to give gratitude
To the quiet times it has held me up

I apologise to this body for all the lies that I took as truths

My body is not an apology
And I will no longer apologise

In 'ii - The Vessel', Laith Alawneh speaks to the whanaungatanga we hold with our whānau, our mātua and our tīpuna, and how our relationships with our loved ones evolve with us as we grow.

Laith is 17 and resides in Tāmaki Makaurau. 

In 'ii - The Vessel', Laith Alawneh speaks to the whanaungatanga we hold with our whānau, our mātua and our tīpuna, and how our relationships with our loved ones evolve with us as we grow.

ii - The Vessel - Laith Alawneh | The Lowdown Aotearoa

ii - The Vessel - Laith Alawneh

Family is a body
a vessel of life
each vein and artery plays a part
with each breath taken
love courses through your vessel
reminding you of who truly loves you
from the day of conceivement 
you were the heart

and your mother’s love flowed through you all the time
you used the wisdom 
that has been passed down through 
generations of warriors to guide you
touch, you learnt your fathers touch in his absence
knowing that it’s okay to be gentle

and you can plaster his pain across your skin but the body finds a way to heal itself
you learn to appreciate his absence
as he has gifted you life, and passed on your mind

as your mother births again, 
she cannot flow her love to you all the time, 

                it would be selfish of her

so your siblings lay in the hand of your vessel 
they help steer through the stormiest nights 
but sometimes they need you to take charge
so you cut them, so they can regrow into a better version of themselves

we take a lot of first breaths: shock, fear, excitement
with the conceivement of your own
the breath you take when you see them
opens your airways to a new dimension 
they become the heart of your vessel
and you breath for them, without them life can not be lived

as time continues
your mother will no longer be able to flow love through your heart 
and slowly the vessel collapses
but you live on in your son’s vessel
and if any part of your vessel is missing, the vessel will collapse
and that’s how life is


In 'NWA', 17-year-old Lisa Tuulima emphasises the importance of friendship as a source of comfort and connection in a world that can often feel isolating. The poem speaks to finding support in each other's company and being able to be yourself without fear of judgement.

In 'NWA', Lisa Tuulima uses the power of spoken word to highlight the unique bond of true friendship and how it provides comfort and connection in a world that can feel isolating. 

NWA - Lisa Tuulima | The Lowdown Aotearoa 

NWA - Lisa Tuulima

Lost
in a world not made for them
thinking all we have is only one another
pieces of ourselves are missing
constantly failing to acknowledge only
I know what pieces fit together
to make me, me
and you, you
to cry without forcing laughter
to drop an outworn mask
is to truly show you the REAL me
it's to show you
I am human
something we use our humour
to replace  
and call "tough love"
the kind of tough love we received growing up
projected all throughout our friendship
with a hit of bus therapy
every now & then
when we realise
we catch up
with everyone else around us
but we never actually catch up
with each other
tho unaware we quite like them
just socially awkward
but we're quite like them
in the crowd 
But it’s less lonely here
Coz at least we have each other
To whisper secrets to through secret glances
And mock each other 


A young woman with long black hair, a large black shirt and sunglasses stands in front of a house and speaks to the camera.

Mana Pasifika

Aigagalefili Fepulea'i-Tapua'i expresses her passion for the South Auckland, the place she calls home and champions what it means to a young rangatahi Pasifika in COVID times.

Mana Pasifika: South Auckland to the World | The Lowdown Aotearoa 

South Auckland to the World

Saute Aukilani sings me to sleep with the sound of siren jams.
Cos who needs fairytales when we have starriez
as old and coarse as my father's hands.
They say we're dirty.
But pick up a history lesson
and you'll find our blood on their hands.
We're an afterthought.
The aftermath of gentrification of the inner city
and yet still, I'd never trade the big hearts and warm smiles
for houses that look pretty.
Even lockdown can't shake what we have on lock.
So I bet them keyboard warriors are mad they can't recolonise our community
Mad that our spirits don't break under the scrutiny
They thrive on our downfall
But would collapse without us.
When my 65-year old aunty wakes up at 4
to be an essential worker.
But you won't see that on the news.
Cos NZ Herald comment sections
don't know what we know to be true.
Cos what's money compared to mana,
when no silver spoon could reflect the waves of our Moana?
So if you wanna know?
Come take a look for yourself.
Hear blessings slapped across fresh fades.
See the glowing melanin on smiling girls.
Cos no matter what anyone says,
it will always be
South Auckland to the world.

An aerial drone shot of Ōtara Town Centre.

Poet Grace Iwashita-Taylor expresses what it means to identify in Pasifika in modern COVID times. A powerful spoken word piece that embodies the Saute Aukilani mindset. Music from Brandon Haru.

Expressing ourselves is one way that we are able to reimagine our wellbeing together. Enjoy a creative piece written by Grace Iwashita-Taylor and performed by All-star Ngawati-Salaivao with music by Brandon Huru.

Mana Pasifika: Wellness is Community | The Lowdown NZ

Wellness is Community

In an uncertain world, your body can tremble
hustling just to survive
masina pull on the vasa, causing tides you cannot control
when stillness is too far stretched
and your breath is shallow in your chest
to settle your body
it takes a visit, to self, to aiga
to familiar food cooking on the stove, in your home
within a village of safety.
But
when the safety of that home becomes target
when brown is named scapegoat for blame
when your home is the birthplace of the essential workers
keeping a whole nation moving
frontline and front facing a virus yet, still smiling.
When putting yourself at risk, means income
means cupboards not empty and bills paid.
When someone comes from this village mentality
it's not helpful to ask them to heal alone
because it takes a village to be well.
The atamai of the vā
between the village within you
and the village surrounding you.
For children of the moana
wellness, is collective
is listening to the ocean in YOU
and the ocean in WE
wellness is navigation
is tending to our elderly
wellness is balance
is alofa, is love
wellness is a ritual of alofa
wellness is a radical act of love
wellness is village
is honouring your breath
for a collective shared breath
never bloomed but forever blooming
wellness is US.

In the middle of the day, a man sits on a chair in front of a pond, staring directly at the camera. Holding his hands over his chest in an emotive way.

Expressing ourselves is one way that we are able to reimagine our Wellbeing together. A creative piece written by Grace Iwashita-Taylor, performed by Allister Ngawati-Salaivao with music from Brandon Haru.

Expressing ourselves is one way that we are able to reimagine our wellbeing together. Enjoy a creative piece written by Grace Iwashita-Taylor and performed by All-star Ngawati-Salaivao with music by Brandon Haru.

Mana Pasifika: Wellbeing Reimagined | The Lowdown Aotearoa 

Wellbeing Reimagined

My wellbeing meets the world shifting
tilting, flips me sideways into unknown waters
confronts the rupturing, to known surroundings
throws me headfirst into a knowingness
My wellbeing has hard conversations
that bite the tongue of truth
heavy chest, betraying controlled breaths
a collection of rejections wet on my cheeks
My wellbeing is resilient
My wellbeing don’t need to prove nothing
Responds to indigenous healing
as a cup of tea after a mirimiri
Requires rest, needs a gentle place to rest its head
curls up in loved ones comfort
reimagines itself in the eye of the storm
is a world unbreaking itself
to re-remembering
My wellbeing is rebuilding balance
is Hauora
bravely finds all the scattered pieces
then raises its hand to ask for help
turns the bruising into a journey of healing
bold and brave 
and sometimes hard, but is learning
I am so much more than my hurt
My wellbeing breaks into generational trauma
knowing it is a taonga
to be passed down to my children’s children
is part of my nafa, whakapapa
My wellbeing maintains my whakapapa
is worthy, is seen, is loved
my wellbeing is love
is love reimagined
my wellbeing is your wellbeing
is reimagined wellbeing together
He tirohanga anamata

Build connections with others and express your thoughts and feelings through spoken word poetry. Find support, connect and learn on The Lowdown.

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