tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53200042012-01-22T16:55:18.763+13:00Pio's Living RoomRantings of a kiwi traveller and sometime poetPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.comBlogger881100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-9836593076261952232007-08-13T21:20:00.001+12:002007-08-13T21:23:22.036+12:00New BlogAs my work has veered in new directions since I last updated this blog, I've decided to move to a new blog sitehttp://chinglish-renee.blogspot.com/All poems, prose and pictures will remain on this site (for as long as Blogspot lets me) as a reflection of past work, but the new site will contain work-in-progress and musings of a more 'literary' nature (ooo-er.)email me: piokiwi@yahoo.com.auPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1132278327219631822005-11-18T14:30:00.000+13:002005-11-18T14:48:48.513+13:00My roomMy Roomcomputerhumsvacantits monitorblankstares downhalf a twin towerof cheap shelvingthreatening to explodeon a crash diet of Lonely Planetand recipe booksnew poetry journalssqueezed for spacevoices smallin the wastelanda calendarticks away the dayswithout gold starsfor good behaviourthe carpet groovedfrom the ceaseless pacingof wheeled chairsand lamps that turn onwith no inspirationtumbled Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1130232657411674362005-10-25T22:27:00.000+13:002005-10-25T22:34:47.933+13:00DesperadoMy next story. Any comments, especially critiques, are gratefully received. Oh and - if any of these characters seem familar to you, you're probably right :-.). DesperadoShe feels as if she is about to drown in a tide of humanity, one that surges out and threatens to swallow her as the sliding doors roll open. She forces herself to take a step onto the sea blue floor. The dots on the carpet blur,Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1126440760442189302005-09-11T23:54:00.000+12:002005-10-25T22:36:48.076+13:00The images from the Lousiana storm sometimes last longer than the flicker of a TV screen, the turn of a newspaper page. They resonate past the lives of those people, each one of them precious and real in themselves (despite what Barbara Bush might say). They reach out to me, and in moment of egocentricity I imagine myself in the middle of a flooded lounge room, staring at the wreckage of my life Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1123847006179800142005-08-12T23:02:00.000+12:002005-08-12T23:43:27.940+12:00CrossroadsAt the moment, my mind feels a little like the sand at the very edge of the beach, the grains constantly rearranged by the surf. It's been a rough week. I've burst into tears in three different offices in front of superiors. I've sat in education meetings with fat tears rolling down my cheeks for reasons entirely unrelated to the case studies being presented. I've gabbled on about Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1123587709115338862005-08-09T23:28:00.000+12:002005-08-09T23:41:49.123+12:00cakecrumbsOver a year since my last post. I've been busy in other forums; nibbling away at the cakecrumbs of experience in my travels; struggling to rediscover the meaning I once found in medicine. And yes, that old bugbear, romance. (What IS a bugbear exactly? must be a strange beast).Ah yes, that "L" word. Love. How can that strange word, so lilting, so soft from the tongue, be wielded so often with Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1091891824589230312004-08-04T00:11:00.000+12:002004-08-08T03:21:21.210+12:00New poemsPage
the blank page stares accusingly
I stare back
neither of us blink.
you’ve neglected me
it seems to say
and you think six short measly lines
are enough?
really I think you should be writing much longer lines than this
selecting delicious emotive interpersonal language
there’s been a
paucity
of expression
so far.
I disagree
simplicity
is elegance
or possibly
I’m just lazy.
really, there Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1079055640077019562004-03-12T03:40:00.000+13:002004-03-12T14:44:56.043+13:00Snow in Marchsnow
kissing all over
with cold lips
the wind touching me
with hands of ice
pulling at my scarf
homewards
I had thought to light a candle for you,
to shout your name
from a bridge or mountaintop
as the dark current flowed on beneath
but you sent snow
in March
instead.
I have seen your messages before.
It was you wasn't it
who sent the falling star,
who set the skies ablaze with sunset
who Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1079053961116088752004-03-12T01:49:00.000+13:002004-03-12T14:52:04.513+13:00one yearIt's one year since the machine that was supporting Casey's breathing was turned off. He had gone some hours before, when his blood turned traitor and crushed the brain that gave reason to their function.
It's difficult to acknowledge that brutal truth in words, though those thoughts have been swirling in my mind. For ever it seems.
Today I am in London. The wind has been bitterly cold - Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1075693406897535932004-02-02T16:43:00.000+13:002004-02-02T16:45:05.140+13:00come travelling with meHello, if you{re wondering why this blog hasn{t moved in a while it{s because I{m in Ecuador.
see my travel blog at
http://piokiwi.fotopages.com
email me: piokiwi@yahoo.com.auPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1074192543485688032004-01-16T07:49:00.000+13:002004-01-16T07:50:24.543+13:00Africa PoemsQuite a few poems were stimulated by the trip to Kenya and Tanzania.
Here are some of them:
Going Native
hands burnt brown by African sun
burnished with sunblock
beads clacking musically
about my braided head
any more time in this land
and my blood will run
thick and rich
as coffee
Nakuru, Kenya 8/12/03
It was great meeting the Maasai - tall, lithe and very good looking. We got to dancePiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1074191526224349572004-01-16T07:32:00.000+13:002004-01-16T07:40:19.060+13:00the tide of nightsMy third to last shift in Australia (yay!), and the last day I will be thirty (boo - another year older).
I've been reading through my last two entries, and they seem rather dark and self-pitying. Since I returned to Australia, I've been busy trying to tie up all the loose ends that need to be tied up on leaving a country and moving to another. I'm also rather gleefully, but busily, collecting Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1072952318237205042004-01-01T22:26:00.000+13:002004-01-01T23:27:10.263+13:00New Year MusingsIt's New Year's Day. NYE was spent here in Auckland among friends, though I am a little sad that no beaches, fireworks or mountaintops were involved. Never mind - I got to the beach the next day.
Despite the amount of time I spent chilling out (and not drinking) in a local pub, the passing of 2003 left me with few profound thoughts. (Maybe I'm just running low on profoundity).
At the momentPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1072949145029662492004-01-01T22:02:00.000+13:002004-01-01T22:26:51.936+13:00Looking aroundIt's strange: managed to get through Kenya and Tanzania, including 5 days solo in Nairobi and Mombasa, without getting mugged or robbed - and now I come home and I find one thing missing. My interest in my medical career. It's probably just a small downhill stretch on the road of life or a necessary reality check.
I'm afraid that for the last 9 shifts I have left to work in Australia, I will Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1070540941675539402003-12-05T01:26:00.000+13:002003-12-05T01:29:40.903+13:00African safari Hello! to everyone who hasn't received my email, this blog will not be updated for the next three weeks. this is because I'm in Africa, travelling around Kenya and Tanzania, and I have a travel blog: http://piokiwi.fotopages.com - enjoy! email me: piokiwi@yahoo.com.auPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1068904586476259172003-11-16T02:56:00.000+13:002003-11-16T03:05:42.983+13:00Waving the flag.....How depressing...this afternoon I went off to work in the Children's Emergency Dept smartly dressed in the All Black jersey, and ....we lost the World Cup semifinal against our archrivals Australia. I won't even mention the score, it was so depressing. And all this when NZ are supposed to be their strongest ever.
Of course what made it worse was, as I was proudly displaying my national Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1068561034344568962003-11-12T03:30:00.000+13:002003-11-15T03:52:32.090+13:00I'm on a roll?For some reason, for the last few nights I've been getting home, switching on the computer, and just going for it. Must have a lot of things on my mind.
Quirky
“you’re quirky” she said,
“I like that.” Quirky?
Quer-key?
Cuer-kwey?
does that mean I’m weird,
a oddball?
it is true
I tend to wormhole
my conversations,
burrow into the fertile soil
of my mind
to emerge somewhere
entirely Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1068468502446291572003-11-11T01:48:00.000+13:002003-11-11T01:50:11.133+13:00PassingFresh from another lonely musing drive home, I hit the computer and wrote another poem.
Passing
driving home tonight
the moon is hung like a big bronze gong
over the city of scurrying people
it beats away the golden hours
drawing slowly towards its zenith
and the moon sings
I stand edged on a precipice
searching again for your face
some glimpse you once existed
beyond footprints in a photo
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1068296926478473472003-11-09T02:08:00.000+13:002003-11-09T02:08:44.550+13:00The Pio files
Yesterday was spent constructing Xmas cards....I must be more organised than usual, to get it done this early! In keeping with the tradition of using a new art "form" to create the card (over the years I've used cartoons, embossing foil, wrapping foil, "stained glass", photoshopped images, poetry and computer blended cartoons and photos), this year, I have created a painting - with the above Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1068296220312059012003-11-09T01:57:00.000+13:002003-11-09T01:56:57.746+13:00Transient Girl - coming to a cafe near you!Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1068208448644863122003-11-08T01:34:00.000+13:002003-11-09T01:55:11.340+13:00Poetry GirlJust had a week off (well, sort of off - ended up doing some extra shifts) and have been trying to force myself to do some research project work, but (displacement, displacement) seem to have veered over into more writing and painting instead. Tonight was rhyming night, and am quite pleased with the resullts:
Transient Girl
What was that? A streak of light,
A super human being takes flight!
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1067962227414955092003-11-05T05:10:00.000+13:002003-11-05T05:47:30.946+13:00HomecomingOn to sweeter things. This afternoon driving into work a weird, almost hysterical feeling struck me. It went something like this: HEE HEE I WILL SOON BE IN AFRICA HEEHEE IN SOUTH AMERICA HEE HEE I WILL BE UNEMPLOYED AGAIN YEE HA WHO CARES!
Well I guess it is more of a calculated periodic unemployment, and far less daring than last time when I tripped off to Europe to spend all my money unsure Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1067961809611787252003-11-05T05:03:00.000+13:002003-11-05T05:03:28.260+13:00SonglinesDriving home to bad pop music can do funny things to me. Amazing the number of times I’ve ended up blubbering on the way, and arriving home with half-connived song clichés in my head. Sometimes these are tossed aside in favour of much needed dreams (and rest), but occasionally they make it into my diary…..and even more occasionally, into my computer in the form of tuneless song lyrics. The Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1067961618894308962003-11-02T04:58:00.000+13:002003-11-05T05:00:17.593+13:00Drowning in TearsA little boy was brought into the Intensive care today. He had been found floating limp in a pool, 8 minutes after last being seen busily helping out in the yard. His heart had stopped for at least 20 minutes before an ambulance crew got it beating again, by sheer brute force of drugs. Young hearts are strong but brains are still fragile. Now he lies on ventilator support, his muscles Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1067179044834279742003-10-27T03:37:00.000+13:002003-10-27T03:37:24.140+13:00O the small joysA crazy but somehow satisfying weekend, doing extra shifts in my old stomping ground, the Children’s Emergency dept. I went from managing intubated, unconscious patients to deciding what was wrong with a succession of unhappy, snot nosed babies and toddlers. It’s a harder job than it seems (though very familiar to me by now), and carries a weighty responsibility. However, now that I’m safely Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1066567905268793772003-10-20T01:51:00.000+13:002003-10-20T01:51:44.740+13:00ViolatedThere are times when I feel like Sydney is out to get me. For instance when someone zooms up my behind, beeping like crazy, suddenly sideswipes to overtake then pulls in front with a triumphant two-fingered salute. A violation of road space. Or when taxis and trucks beep noisily outside my bedroom window. A violation of my street space. But when it's jimmying my passenger side lock so now I Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1065871573200256042003-10-12T00:14:00.000+13:002003-10-12T00:26:12.976+13:00fairy towersI'm home in Auckland for one all too short weekend - a conference this time, as all of us need to catch up on the latest knowledge, meet fellow trainees, and schmooze up to bosses. As could be reliably predicted Auckland has turned on a display of its finest weather ie. wet, cloudy and cold, to welcome the visitors from Oz I had hopes of showing off my home to. Oh well. It's still beautiful. Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1065532582000233702003-10-08T02:16:00.000+13:002003-10-20T01:59:04.703+13:00Whinge of the weekBy the end of a set of Intensive Care shifts (13 hours, 8-9 am/pm day or night), I feel slightly deflated, usually smarting from the memory of several faux pas that I have made – like asking a dumb question of the consultant/boss, caught just-in-time errors or a foolish comment to a nurse. It is then that the beauty of “saving lives” (if following a set of rules could be called this) tends to Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1065271312598266162003-10-05T00:41:00.000+12:002003-10-20T02:00:39.516+13:00On being 17It's a "long weekend" here in Seedny.ie Mon is a public holiday, which I am rostered on to work. However I am off today, which meant I was out making the most of the great festivals which are on at the moment - the Manly jazz festival (free jazz, nice food, lots of happy dogs, grannies and kids out strolling among the pine trees) and the Darling Harbour Fiesta (free Latin bands, although it is Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1065002904715223822003-10-01T21:21:00.000+12:002003-10-20T01:54:37.850+13:00My cousin FerdiMy cousin Ferdi aged 5 1/2 has been visiiting from Beijing, and yesterday on my day off I bravely accompanied him and my Aunty to the Zoo, at the peak of the school holiday season. Taronga Park Zoo is enchantingly situated across the harbour, a ferry ride away from the bustle of the city. From this peninsula, one can see unlikely vistas of exotic animals grazing within sight of the Opera HousePiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1064842819222933302003-09-30T01:40:00.000+12:002003-11-05T05:46:52.230+13:00On a nicer note, I have been scribbling still. And performing - my prize tally for the Tues poetry nites at a nearby pub standing so far at $10 and a bottle of red (which will go nicely in my cooking). This one is a draft still, a patchwork of thoughts about going home:
Homecoming (notes)
Aotearoa
land of clouds and shadows
sun burst and sea stars
the pull of earth
its air freedom
Weekend Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1064842600697546052003-09-30T01:36:00.000+12:002003-09-30T01:36:40.336+12:00Whew, it's been over a month since I last posted!! Not that there's been many a night shift where I've though about opening up the blogger page.... but then a new patient has arrived, or a nurse has barged in and demanded immediate attention, or somesuch. Such is the ICU.
The PICU tonight was a sad place when I left. Another two year old (they are always 2 or 3) had been found face down in aPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1061991712281856932003-08-28T01:41:00.000+12:002003-08-28T01:41:52.363+12:00A new poem.
Intensive Care
I walk among you,
the live in dread:
your lives ebbing and flowing
with each breath of those you love.
Unrecognised
behind my smiling clinician’s mask
I am one of you,
turning in sudden freefall
in an alien galaxy
the surety of your lives vanished
in a fatal moment,
a chain of flaws.
Isolated but bound by grief
ghostlike we wander
among monitors tracing our fates
inPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1061473521089601292003-08-22T01:45:00.000+12:002003-08-22T01:45:21.013+12:00An introspective night last night, one of those bouts of personal pain that still sneaks up on me by stealth, and too late to call anyone about it. Or maybe it's better to deal with it myself. And so I sit down, and write: time to polish at first, then later more raw, don't care, just the truth stuff. Don't worry. I'm not like this all the time.
Western haunt
A wisp of cloud
hostage to an Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1061308397134757972003-08-20T03:53:00.000+12:002003-08-20T03:53:17.183+12:00Tonight, missing my old friends in Broken Hill, I went to the Friend in Hand at Glebe to find out what their poetry night was all about. I returned with a poem:
Barflies in Glebe
red velvet woman
with red velvet voice
strums the soul
to the chuckle of double bass
a girl tosses smoke puffs
back with a flick of brown ringlets
a statement of bohemian cool
from the corner
full speed
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1060953895240164932003-08-16T01:24:00.000+12:002003-08-18T01:03:39.236+12:00Poems composed on the way back from Uluru (scribbled onto the bus window in whiteboard marker - very public poetry writing - therefore forgive the mass appeal element!)
Ballad of the Red Centre
To their land we came as guests
Though each of us had different quests
Clouds swept with us along the plain
To our surprise we brought the rain
With sun's respite we climbed the earth
O'er which the Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1060562310626203092003-08-11T12:38:00.000+12:002003-08-18T01:04:58.263+12:00Hello from the Red Centre - apparently I can't keep away from the desert, nor am I capable of spotting a 1 week gap in the roster without taking advantage if it. So here I am in Alice Springs. Spent the weekend whizzing around Kings Canyon, Uluru and the Olgas - amazing red rocks although it being peak season it's easy to lose the atmosphere of the places. Also far too speedy a trip, but Uluru Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1060102717927282432003-08-06T04:58:00.000+12:002003-08-18T01:06:29.340+12:00A night in the life of a medical mole.....
Here I am on nights in intensive care.... it's a strange existence, this, waking in the dark, wolfing down breakfast/dinner and sliding into the carpark just as everyone else is leaving, then driving home in the morning in that special post-nights zombie state. My nights vary from gentle parambulations around the unit and occasional pokes at patients, Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1059449069282567792003-07-29T15:24:00.000+12:002003-07-29T15:24:29.276+12:00Well it's halfway through the second day of work in the Paed intensive care unit here at the Children's Hospital. It's early days yet.....but at the moment I am keeping my head above the water, but probably bordering on being annoying by asking lots of questions! (non medics: Intensive care is looking after the sickest kids in the hospital - lots of machines that beep). Better go......Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1059100027478799372003-07-25T14:27:00.000+12:002003-07-25T14:27:07.500+12:00New poems:
No Juliet
I am no Juliet,
riding the storms of first love.
We had our seasons
to dig with daggers
to lick wounds clean
and kiss them dry.
You tugged
like the sea pulling on the shore,
and I rose to your freshness
like salt-loving sand.
We swayed to the swell of the moon.
And now you have ebbed
and left me dry,
though your lips were warm
when we parted.
I seek a poisoned chalice
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1058835881321425392003-07-22T13:04:00.000+12:002003-07-22T13:04:41.446+12:00There are a few things I've noticed about being back in town again. (Of course, I'm milking the "Hi I'm Renee, I'm just back from the bush" line for all it's worth - gives one a certain amount of street cred.) Firstly, in the shopping mall yesterday (naturally, one of my first stops) I was scanning a lot of faces that looked familiar - here in the city you're not likely to meet people that you Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1058828739913453962003-07-22T11:05:00.000+12:002003-07-22T11:05:39.943+12:00Here I am, officially a city chick again. The drive back to Broken Hill from Sydney - all 1200 kms of it - was relatively painless due to the fact I wasn't the one driving. I'd lured my friend Gary to Broken Hill with promises of a "real outback experience" - though of course his real job was to cram the Starlet with 6 months accumulated gear and share the driving. However after a desktop Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057821894353564842003-07-10T19:24:00.000+12:002003-07-10T19:24:54.370+12:00I am a little surprised by how much of an attachment (despite all that has happened in the personal life) I have formed to Broken Hill in 6 months. I guess it isn't too much of a surprise, really: it's a place of warm hearted people that have welcomed me into their groups, complete lack of traffic hassles, huge desert spaces and glorious skies. If we could import a nice stretch of coastline andPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057564104507578572003-07-07T19:48:00.000+12:002003-07-07T19:48:24.406+12:00This is the third time in a week that I've had cake-on-the-run for lunch. Damn. Not that I'm terribly busy at other times. Also feeling a little deranged from caffeine consumed to offset the 1 am bedtime and 4 am wakeup call, courtesy of the hospital.
Go on, feel sorry for me....:)
(geez, the above paragraph makes me look like I have extremely bad eating habits. I don't really! Though BH Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057500890671043122003-07-07T02:14:00.000+12:002003-07-08T02:27:02.710+12:00The sunset this evening, from a hill in the South part of town.
At left, you can see the poppet heads (wooden shaft towers) of the Old South Mine, and the dark flat shadow on the right is part of the "line of lode" i.e. slag heap in the middle of town.
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057413362955904402003-07-06T01:56:00.000+12:002003-07-06T01:56:02.803+12:00New poems too:
Search
Shadows skip across my path
But cannot be caught
I cannot find you
Though I look on the face
Of every man
she said her eyes full mourn but do not wait forever
Where are your eyes sparking amusement
pouting lips hiding a tongue
ready with dangerous wit
a smile that brushes my mists away
come have coffee tell me your dreams
Where are your hands ready to pounce
on my Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057413106247355562003-07-06T01:51:00.000+12:002003-07-06T01:51:46.106+12:00Had the alarming urge to buy a cowboy hat the other day - obviously I've been too long in the Far West, soon I'll be buying spurs and fluffy dice as well!! Sadly, the goodbyes have already started. Had my last art class wednesday - 2 more paintings completed, one of which is below: Karekare Beach in West Auckland. A place with special significance for me.
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057130552069808632003-07-02T19:22:00.000+12:002003-07-02T19:22:32.096+12:00Due to complaints there's nothing new to read on my blog (thanks Tim), thought you might want to read the text of diary entries I made while in Bourke several weeks ago. Largely created in my opulent sitting room in the evenings. You may remember I was getting increasingly frustrated to be marooned there, but I had a good time too....of sorts. (since a potential audience was the bosses, certain Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1057130043719888162003-07-02T19:14:00.000+12:002003-07-02T19:14:03.736+12:00This morning, I had to collect a plastic resuscitation mannekin from the University up the hill as we were running mock emergency scenarios at lunchtime. I bowled up early in the morning, but just as I and the university lady were loading what appeared to be the limp body of a child into the boot of my Starlet another car drove by - no doubt arousing great suspicions (I can look mighty shady in Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-1056008608205392832003-06-19T19:43:00.000+12:002003-07-06T02:11:36.650+12:00It's been a good weekend back in Sydney, catching up with old friends, and remaking the acquaintance of the sea by going out for a paddle under the Harbour Bridge. Oh, and eating a lot of seafood, of course.
This poem from my writing splurge a fortnight ago:
Dusk, Sculpture Symposium
The moon is up early
a fingernail clipping the sky
impregnated by sunset
each night she will swell
floating Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-955744262003-06-12T15:01:00.000+12:002003-06-12T15:07:07.000+12:00Two "medical" poems I wrote last Saturday. The opening line is taken from a real report, but the rest of the poem is not based on any one patient - but those who have worked in rural communities may find it a familiar scenario. The second poem is a real patient of mine, though the name has of course been changed.
Accident
“her life was a train crash in slow motion”
this is what they said of Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-955743642003-06-12T14:59:00.000+12:002003-06-12T15:03:32.000+12:00Ryan
Frozen in a time before words
Your eyes stare at a reflection:
Fullback’s frame bunched in a wheelchair
Baby bottle suffocated by giant hand
Lemonade melting the last vestige of teeth
Tracksuit swollen by nappies.
An infant’s mind in a man’s body
You lean on your frail nan
Though she can no longer bathe you alone:
You chase bubbles every morning
As the school bus waits in vain.
What Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-955742492003-06-12T14:56:00.000+12:002003-06-12T15:11:31.000+12:00When I showed this to my writing group, several people identified with the first poem. The process of writing - particularly poetry - is often a display of emotion at great personal risk : but if it connects, it becomes something far more valauble than just a poem.
The other two poems describe Poets in the Pub and the Community Markets poetry reading.
Poet
I
I reach down my throat
draw out myPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-955741642003-06-12T14:52:00.000+12:002003-06-12T14:52:48.410+12:00Got peed on by a baby this week - first time they've managed to get me for two years, though there have been a few near misses. ( I've learned to move fast). The kid was on the weighing scales beside me while I was talking to the mum, and stupidly I wasn't watching and he managed to squirt me sideways. He gave me a big innocent smile afterwards - grrr. Think the child has a career ahead of him Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-954437112003-06-09T13:13:00.000+12:002003-06-09T13:13:44.000+12:00
A painting I did a few weeks ago- Papanui Beach on the Otago Peninsula.Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-954436182003-06-09T13:09:00.000+12:002003-06-09T13:09:32.526+12:00A poem I wrote last Saturday.
Saturday
High on the hill
I peg out weekly washing:
below
an audience of palefaced houses
crouched like a congregation
before a brooding slag queen
who wears a tiara
a temple to coffee
and broken miners
sends trains her heralds
willing sacrifices
swallowed by the long dry plains
terrible in their noonday beauty
gentle in the afternoon sun
fingers of light dance Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-954215572003-06-08T14:25:00.000+12:002003-06-08T14:25:37.196+12:00Been up since 3.30 am with a sick babe. (it's now 11.30 am BH time). This baby isn't going to make it - part of its brain is outside its skull (a birth defect) and it cannot breathe for itself because its brain does not function. We are waiting for the father to get here from Melbourne so he can say goodbye before we let nature take its course. In the meantime I have to stay here in case Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-953531822003-06-06T14:43:00.000+12:002003-06-06T14:43:05.370+12:00That was me showing the nice folks at the Aboriginal language centre in Bourke how to BLOG as they want to set up a website for their radio programming and Language studies. I'm back in Broken Hill today, better rested and less bitchy. Hoping the weekend on call won't be too harsh.Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-953117682003-06-05T14:41:00.000+12:002003-06-05T14:41:16.870+12:00hello from the language CentrePiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-952731392003-06-04T18:38:00.000+12:002003-06-06T14:47:01.000+12:00Muse by the Darling River (sketch)
Under muddy skies
the river glances
at the belly of a pelican
skimming cloud mirrors
A heron glows
en pointe on weed
pirouettes and dips
for fish
An ant
scurries across my page
escaping my poetry
later the sun will dip
into red gums
stretched languidly
among moody cows
and fish will splash
teasingly at birds
sailing through the sunset clouds
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-952728582003-06-04T18:27:00.000+12:002003-06-04T18:30:25.000+12:00Hello from the Back of Bourke, Aussie slang for "middle of bloody nowhere, mate". I'm here doing a Well Kids Health Check which takes a school full of primary school kids and checks eyes, ears, skin, blood, growth, urine, vaccination and teeth. It's the first time something like this has been attempted on such a a scale and it's a bit of a trial run. We are doing it at a small Catholic school Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-951506422003-06-02T00:30:00.000+12:002003-06-02T00:30:34.400+12:00It’s been a hectic week, but exciting at times. Thursday I went on my first Royal Flying Doctor visit to a small service town called Hungerford, just across the Dog Fence on the Queensland border. In just under two hours I saw a phenomenal 50% of the paediatric population (4 kids!). Then we did a quick tour of the town, including the Dog Fence, which is the longest fence in the world. Built Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-950704462003-05-30T19:09:00.000+12:002003-05-30T19:09:20.770+12:00Over the past two months, I've been in two situations where I've had to counsel others about grief. Grief is certainly an individual reaction - for example not everyone wants to live out their emotions on a public webpage like this, but for me a public declaration of love - which is what this is in part - has helped me get over a large hump of the grieving. It's still going to be a bumpy ride.
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-949264732003-05-27T16:58:00.000+12:002003-05-27T16:58:26.913+12:00It's been a good weekend. Went to Mutawintji National Park (middle of desert, 1 1/2 hours from here) with the Barrier Rangers, the local bushwalking group. We had good mix of experts in the group - geologists to point out all the interesting rocks, including some ancient sandworm fossils, teachers, an Aboriginal guide called Gerald who introduced us to some bushtucker and interpreted the Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-947716742003-05-23T16:47:00.000+12:002003-05-23T16:47:36.726+12:00Went to my second guitar lesson last night, and all I can say about my left hand is oww-ouch. But my new Yamaha steel string acoustic is a honey. I'm surprised how light it is, and it's gorgeous leaning in to hear the sounds of the strings being plucked.
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-947130782003-05-22T13:14:00.000+12:002003-05-22T13:14:27.113+12:00Is Broken Hill the last place in the world where there is blue sky and shiny sun? It's positively pissing in Auckland. It's pouring so much in Sydney that the streets are flooded and people are contemplating using lilos to get around. Well, for all you drowned rats out there: ha!! The sun is massaging my back, and hopefully the flies will hold off when we go on a bushwalking trip to MutawintjiPiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-945746622003-05-19T23:08:00.000+12:002003-05-20T01:11:04.000+12:00Uggg. My brain is muffled by a bad headcold - nice to know that winter is here, and kid-lurgies with it. Probably the excesses of the last few days haven't helped. Thurs night a group of us went to watch the Premiere (ta dada!!) of Matrix reloaded - starting midnight. Unfortunately at 2 am, 25 mins from the end, there was a powercut and the screen went blank. There were a lot of disppointed Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-943664432003-05-15T15:06:00.000+12:002003-05-15T15:06:52.620+12:00The weather here has been a bit crazy. It was so foggy yesterday that cars were driving with their fog lightson (strange for a place where people have trouble finding their umbrellas when it rains.) Now of course, it's back to the usual sun belting down out of a cloudless sky. Hmm. One of my patients, a 6 year old, apparently goes nuts and uncontrollable at school when it rains - good thing Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-942032322003-05-13T02:14:00.000+12:002003-05-20T01:12:17.000+12:00Tonight I was at the monthly Poets in the Pub meeting at the Black Lion, a well known spot in Broken Hill (although mainly for its cheap cocktails and the roughness of its clientelle after midnight rather than poetry). It was a good meeting. I met lots of other writers, including some authors visiting from Sydney, and indulged in a round robin poetry sharing feast. Broken Hill has its own Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-939694972003-05-08T15:56:00.000+12:002003-05-08T15:59:01.000+12:00A busy weekend ahead, with community markets (where I am showing some paintings for comment, and reading poetry), and the hospital ball. It's been a full-on week at work too and today I have a locum paediatrician (boss) to show around.
Have had time in the mornings (with breakfast) to read some books of poetry that I got out of the library: and my sister sent me a book of Hone Tuwhare poems a Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-938586582003-05-07T00:45:00.000+12:002003-05-07T00:46:42.000+12:00To Broken Hill
I have stepped off the wheel
and journeyed to the shore
to farewell my love.
And now I return
to this castle in the desert
bastion of history and culture
village of surreal normalcy
I cling
the wheel has turned without me.
I watched
him paddle into shadow
each stroke slashing deep grooves
on my heart:
these cannot be erased.
You cannot see my wound.
I hide Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-938585352003-05-07T00:43:00.000+12:002003-05-07T00:43:01.886+12:00For those who are in Sydney, I'm very proud to announce that my baby sister Roseanne's short film, HENCHMAN, will be screening at the Sydney Film Festival on the 14th June at 9.05 pm. I'm planning to fly from Broken Hill to be there!!Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-937447852003-05-05T01:21:00.000+12:002003-05-05T01:21:55.000+12:00I've realised I haven't posted a poem that I referred to in my post on the newsletter, on how inaccurate photos can be when they convey that we are feeling "happy" when in fact we are feeling totally disconnected and distraught.
Here it is then:
Dialogue
Look. Can you see me?
For though you see a laughing girl
with crowing babies on her lap,
you see but a shadow.
I am invisible: I Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-937446882003-05-05T01:15:00.000+12:002003-05-05T01:36:01.000+12:00Enjoyed Mildura this weekend. We (me and two others from the hospital) stayed last night in a cabin by the River Murray, and I went out and sat under the gum trees for a while looking up at the stars at about 11 o'clock at night... always lovely. Missed a certain warm body sitting next to me though.
Had this thought:
Riverbeach
Tonight
no glaring moon interrupts
the stars in their Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-936800422003-05-03T12:19:00.000+12:002003-05-03T12:19:16.370+12:00This is a more formal poem I wrote - constrained by the rhyme. I usually prefer a more flowing style. But see what you think:
Requiem
Not for you a stony plaque
With flowers weeping drily:
Nor wooden borders rising stark
To cage your anguished bones.
Your breath fled free from that still bed
And flesh escaped in fire;
And ashes too it will be said
Will drift on mountain high.
When morning Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-936436852003-05-02T23:28:00.000+12:002003-05-02T23:28:19.703+12:00I have a weird painting to share. It's called "still life with figures" and although it was executed in a loose "watercolour/acrylic" style over one night, I'd mused over the idea for weeks. It's something to do with people picked in their prime......
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-936418972003-05-02T21:32:00.000+12:002003-05-02T23:32:36.000+12:00I'd like to report that dinner last night went off very successfully and there were no disasters with my rather ambitious menu!
This weekend I'm getting out of Broken Hill - the key to survival round here. A small group of us are going to Mildura, a slightly bigger town about three hours away (across the desert). Should be nice. I have seafood on my mind.....it's not on the coast, it's on the Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-935651632003-05-01T13:03:00.000+12:002003-05-01T13:03:29.580+12:00Speaking of disconnection, here's a painting I completed recently. It's called "Fall off the World" , and goes with the song that was in my first post.Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-935649642003-05-01T12:59:00.000+12:002003-05-01T12:59:20.310+12:00On the subject of war, here's a poem I wrote a few weeks ago - the first expression of my feelings on topics other than loss and grief. I felt so numb and disconnected/disempowered/disembowelled when it all happened. Now that I can get fired up about other issues, I guess it's a good thing.
Carelessness
“Losing your life” – that seems so careless
but am I also to blame, for
“losing you”: Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-935647322003-05-01T12:54:00.000+12:002003-05-01T12:54:06.576+12:00Tonight I'm cooking dinner for 12 - the junior docs and medical students. I've always been fascinated by bush tucker, and although it may seem strange that a Chinese Kiwi from Remuera is cooking Aussie bush tucker, on the menu is: beer damper in paperbark, wattleseed and pear bread, cajun kangaroo with quandong sauce, chicken in corrobee spices, macadamia and bean salad, greens with kutjera Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-935149822003-04-30T17:48:00.000+12:002003-04-30T17:48:23.533+12:00A few days ago Ronald McDonald came to the children's ward at Broken Hill Base and doled out fairy bread and fries. A number of our "repeat offender" patients attended, as did staff's kids, and a reporter from the Barrier Daily Truth (the local rag). I refused to attend on moral grounds. The issue (that McD was actually INVITED to come, and got free publicity for very little outlay) must have Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-934437902003-04-29T15:56:00.000+12:002003-04-29T15:56:15.840+12:00More poetry from me:
Essence
II
These days
the lazy sun stretches
ambles across the sky
to lap humanity with her warm tongue
These days
nothing is lazier
than cereal swimming languidly
in the late-morning milk
These days
while trees embrace the light
their blooms swell
With golden bellies of fruit
Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-934432742003-04-29T15:47:00.000+12:002003-04-29T15:47:10.370+12:00I've been reading "Dr Zhivago" by Boris Pasternak. Although it's known as a Hollywood movie made in the 1960s, the novel itself is a giant of literature with many deep observations on the human condition. Pasternak was awarded the Nobel Prize in the 1960's but was not able to accept on pain of exile from Russia.
I thought the following poem really shows how poetry so passionately expresses Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-934429132003-04-29T15:40:00.000+12:002003-04-29T15:40:39.250+12:00Who is Pio? Well, for those who have not yet had the pleasure of meeting him, here's a recent photo:
Pio is a Kiwi - a bit of a travel fanatic who always manages to talk his way into my luggage when I'm contemplating new explorations. He also fancies himself as a bit of a poet and even insisted I use his poem on my Xmas card last year (I had to correct the spelling first of course). Among Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-933735422003-04-28T14:37:00.000+12:002003-07-06T02:21:38.943+12:00For the curious who want to see what I'm doing in Broken Hill, I have been featured in the hospital's monthly newsletter:
http://www.health.nsw.gov.au/areas/fwahs/pubs/msMar03.pdf
- unfortunately this page has now been taken off the server. The photo I've pasted below.
I'm on page three. The picture was taken the first day back at work from my emergency trip to Sydney/Auckland, and I was not Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-932239112003-04-25T17:31:00.000+12:002003-04-28T14:26:44.000+12:00Well, the picture below was painted when I returned to BH from Auckland where I had been at Casey's memorial service and importantly, getting much needed support from my friends. Although I have only recently started painting, the pull of the paints was strong when I returned to my quiet living room in an outback town in the dessicated heart of Australia. It goes with a poem that I wrote in thePiokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-932231662003-04-25T17:11:00.000+12:002003-05-22T13:10:46.000+12:00Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5320004.post-932223432003-04-25T16:51:00.000+12:002003-04-25T16:51:55.370+12:00Well, well, I have just become a BLOGGER. (is that somewhere between a blob and a jogger?). Where private rants become public and personal. Oh well, I've been doing a lot of writing recently; there's been a lot of things to think about, bad mostly, but some good. Creative urges have reopened where it's been dry for years. Maybe out of necessity to get all this stuff off my chest.
You see, a Piokiwihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06093612075587719561noreply@blogger.com0