So it’s almost 2am local time and my brain is defiantly kicking around ideas. It started with me thinking about climbing attic stairs as a way to step back in time, and then rest of it just flowed to point that it seemed like a good idea to write it out so that I wouldn’tContinue reading “The last diary”
ButterfliesSometimes when an animal is bornit’s formis essentially what it will become.The caterpillar though is different-it needs to survivelong enoughFor a a change, so difficult.It locks itself awayFor a painful transformationOther creaturesDo not question whyWhen it emerges a butterflySo confident and sureIt’s not hard to seeThat nature is strongestWhen there’s diversity.
Today there are two completely different poems centred on the theme of remembering. The act of remembering is complex – a memory can be triggered by the slightest thing: a smell, a word, a sensation, anything. But once triggered our minds pull us back to that time and it becomes real again. Some memories weContinue reading “The ways we remember”
Soft peaks roseonly to be covered,weighed down by expectationand a history of disappointments.It’s little wonder we allcrack a little under the pressure.Life’s confection overly relianton a saccharine finishand false compliments to the chef.A temperamental beastthat demands too muchattention at every stageand greedily pushes champagne out of the way.A dessert I care not for but ritualContinue reading “The pavlova”
We have now been living with covid19 for two years. Some 5.44million people are no longer with us because of it – they were all someone’s daughter, son, sibling, parent, co-worker, neighbour, friend. New Zealand is an island nation with a relatively low population and we have lost 51 lives so far. There are millionsContinue reading “The first two years”
So summer break is over and I am heading back into work. If you have thoughts on what inspired today’s poem please leave a comment! Becoming what is expectedThe colour feels cold and wetas I glide it across my eyelidknowing it will set hardto last the coming day.As it dries I will travel througha windowbecomingContinue reading “Back to work”
I am not a morning person. Daily routineThe coffee maker’s whirris how you get me to stirIt’s promise of caffeine Is what I needI have to live through “morning”Return to the warm embrace of eveningMy days are for people, being a cloneAnd the night is freedom and mine alone
New Zealand is part of the Pacific region. We are connected through geography, culture, family, history. In Samoan there is a concept of the va, the connections bewteen people. This poem was inspired when I was listening to a colleague talk about their Samoan family and their childhood before they moved to NZ. The naivgatorsNavigatingContinue reading “Pacific ties”
Memories are like pieces of art – everyone reacts differently to them, seeing meanings that are invisible to others. Perhaps its the angles at which we see things when looking down the corridors of the brain. Maybe that’s the wrong analogy. Perhaps the process is more like old German fairy tales being given the DisneyContinue reading “Echoes from the past”
Wellingtonians love a good chat about the weather – how long the winter is lasting, how short the summer was, how unseasonably hot/cold/dry/rainy it’s been, and of course any observation about the state of the air currents (aka wind) is always topic de jour. Weather is definitely a safer topic than politics, sport, religion, etc.Continue reading “Today’s weather report”
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