The fireworks must be
so beautiful tonight.
You can hear the cheers from
miles away.
But my gaze is cast
on the other side
of the hospital ward’s window:
You,
snoring lightly among pillows,
a more beautiful sight.
As the saying goes
Mekong never rains, it pours
Another glass of beer
The coffee's cold
Asked for a refill
"It'll take a while"
I'm just here to chill
Can you show me the way
Back to yesterday?
So many memories
I want to replay
The rain has come
And the adults run
Kid is the only one
Ready for some puddle fun
Hey don't run away
The rain? It just wants to play
Hey don't you run away
Have you forgotten how to play?
The stick is lit as the clouds descent.
A few puffs in and the raindrops land.
A flight to safety? A change of plan?
This cigarette’s life is in our hand.
Floating down a stream of alleys
Guided by mere unconsciousness
I choose to go where it’s quietest.
But for one occasional uncle
Red-faced, half-opened eyes
Confiding in his glass of beer;
Only TVs talk to each other.
Past the gates where the dogs stand guard
I jumped slightly at their sudden barks
Stay calm, they mean no harm. Float on.
Drift and turn to where the dead ends lurk
It’s the deepest parts where treasures emerge
It’s always amusing to hear jilted friends
Calling love a most heinous crime
Just to see the most skeptical of them
Falling in love again sometimes
Once born into the trembling hands
The trembling hands of her father
She was carried into this world
A long time ago, before she could remember.
Soon, her feet became stronger
And she learnt to stand,
and walk, step by step,
Away from his cautiously cupped hands.
Hands still trembling with fear
Fear of her falling
Fear as he wonders
If she will ever come back again.
Once overheard
the literary secret
of one esteemed poet
who whispered:
Just break words—
Apart—
at random
sometimes.
And all will be forgiven
when it ends on rhyme.
We hear the raindrops and exclaim:
“Damn, we got to eat in again!”
Forgetting that it’s just falloff
From those up north
Who have to bear the pain.
Both book and Kindle are meant to be read
But only one is meant to be shared.
Yes, Kindle might make one read more
But I'll lose that warm feeling of knowing that
You've touched something I've touched before.
My shoes recently opened up to me.
Their tongues wagging, their soles now free.
What stories would they tell in their final days?
As they walk themselves to their own graves.
The thunder booms
The wild winds sing
The raindrops clap
Our song begins
These tea-colored stains,
musky smell,
dog ear folds,
illegible scribblings,
marked passages,
underlined phrases,
accidental creases,
missing pages,
curled up corners,
faded cover
and battered spine
made me damaged
but gave me life.
Come, let's go somewhere quieter
where the crowd has not gathered.
Withdraw to my own space where I can have
some time alone to think.
Latent energy is everywhere,
the passive aggression is simmering,
just waiting to boil over.
I have my own ideas of how things should go;
Do not bother me.
Today, I am an unique individual
just like everyone else.
You with your signs and loud-hailers,
keep your sense of justice to yourself.
I have hope. I have anger.
Politics is personal.
feelings in a bottle,
I can't get them out.
hands pressed against my temples,
I swallowed a muffled shout.
Aggression and Affection
fight for pole position.
slowly creeping from behind -
Mr Disappointment.
oh well, meditation works
but only for a while.
I tilt my chin, and lift my head,
and look to God and smile.
respect the jungle,
the cadre tells me.
say a little prayer
before you pee.
trust the contours,
terrain doesn't lie.
follow the waters,
it'll keep you alive!
seemingly placid
the jungle may seem.
stay still for a moment -
now think otherwise.
move in the light,
sleep when it's night.
one is not so alone;
revere the jungle's might.
do you remember Popular
the book store that you loved?
the unmistakable red and white
a floor of treasure trove
do you remember the pencil case
with buttons at the front?
that opens hidden compartments
every time you press one
do you remember the rough papers
on which you test-scrawl ink?
an occasional "I love you"
in neon blue and pink
do you remember the simple joy
of owning a mechanical pencil?
with the flimsy rubber at the end
that always disappears
do you remember the teaching aid
built like a computer?
its robotic voice reading out loud:
"A-is-for-apple"
do you remember the filofax
you buy year on year?
filled religiously in January
but empties by April
take a deep breath the next time
you ever enter one.
the fresh pages of assessment books
the familiar scent of my childhood