“Poetry probably isn’t necessary, strictly speaking. It doesn’t happen because somebody thought it financially viable or ethically responsible or somehow socially vital. But in the bombed cities, the wasted homes, the dishevelled places, poems are still being written; poems are still being written in Palestine. And so one of the reasons that artmaking remains radical is that its existence alone suggests, or even speaks into reality, however briefly, an alternative system of value. In this I’m something of an old-school progressive. Poetry goes on in the sense that it just happens — despite violence; motivated by nothing; needed, but less than shelter; heralded by no dollar, poets continue their work. Poetry also goes on in the sense that its aesthetic conception of value chafes with a world in extreme turmoil, ruled by monied interests, in which a genocide is unfolding on our phone screens; it figures by negation another, better world of no violence. For poetry makes nothing happen: it survives (Auden). And so we go on. In which direction? Ake, ake, ake; onwards.” Jackson McCarthy

For the past month I have spent time with Jackson McCarthy’s sublime debut poetry collection, Portrait (AUP, 2026). It is the kind of poetry experience that underlines why, no matter how rugged my road is, how depleted my energy jar is, poetry is both vital and connecting, so utterly nourishing. Our conversation sparked ideas for my blog, for my own writings. To hear Jackson read was a bonus.

This week a special event took place: the celebration and gifting of the tokotoko to Robert Sullivan Ngāpuhi (Ngāti Manu, Ngāti Hau / Ngāti Kaharau) and Kāi Tahu (Kāti Huirapa ki Puketeraki), our current Poet Laureate, at the National Library. The tokotoko, embued with mana, is carved by master artist carver, Jacob Scott, and specially created to fit the laureate. The event was sadly moved from Matahiwi marae in Hawke’s Bay, due to the storm, but was a moving and fitting ceremony that included karanga, singing, speeches and readings from around 18 poets. Since 2007, when the National Library took over the appointment of the Poet Laureate, the Laureates have been Michele Leggott, Cilla McQueen, Ian Wedde, Vincent O’Sullivan, CK Stead, Selina Tusitala Marsh, David Eggleton and Chris Tse.

Monday: Poetry Shelf Monday Poem – A sickle sun by Megan Kitching

Tuesday: Poetry Shelf Playing Favourites – Melinda Szymanik picks Erik Kennedy (she writes her own poem version!)

Wednesday: Poetry Shelf Breathing Room – Love by Jenny Powell

Thursday: Poetry Shelf Playing Favourites: Jenna Todd picks Michael Pederson (and his incredible ode to bookshops)

Friday: Poetry Shelf conversation and reading – Jackson McCarthy

An invitation: I invite you to choose a poetry book you love that has been published in Aotearoa in 2025 or 2026. Write a paragraph (or two) on why you love this (your choice what you write) and choose a poem that, with permission from the poet and publisher, I would include. paulajoygreen@gmail.com

My new post box: PO Box 58, Waitākere 0660.

Song

I was licking the moon like
a streetlamp before the water
razed the city — people, jobs,
lovers, I feel your movements
glowing and reckoning with me.
Some people say the loss I felt

with you was inevitable, a foregone
conclusion, but I can still breathe
the air around the dark
shape of your body.

The life I’ve felt has been
larger only than this tide;
tonight, messages from family reach
me, surreal, on my phone.

My cousins in Beirut can feel
the terror in the air, I go on
with so little left to speak; listen
to my heart, these songs
of loss I write while I
cannot hear the bombs.

Jackson McCarthy
from Portrait, AUP, 2026