Author: Cassa Bassa

🇦🇺🇨🇳 inquisitive, observant, witty, a thinker, was a misfit child 😊

The Writer’s Note

My writing inspiration comes from a feeling, a thought, an observation, a tiny ponder. Whatever it may be, it’s like a flicker of thoughts, comes and goes. I try to capture and express it using words as my medium.

My blog Flicker of Thoughts is not a personal journal. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. Most of my writing pieces are fictional based on true events or stories I learnt from my professional work, some from reports on current social issues especially in Australia.

There are some writing pieces are based on my personal experience and an accurate depiction of my own feelings, emotions and struggles, but they are minimal in my blog representation.

There are also a mix bag of things I write about wherever imagination or inspiration take me.

In a nutshell, I am aspired to be a writer who is relatable and able to express the multi-facets of life.

with love and respect,

Cassa

Wilted Flower

She once was adorable
for being the girl
fogets the punchline
for being clumsy
around the kitchen

Infauation put her
on a pedestal

Now
she is intolerable
for being the same girl
forgets the punchline
She is slapped around
and called useless
for being clumsy
around the kitchen

Love is a cold vase
housing a wilted flower

Crutch Free

Six Sentence Story word prompt – Grip

Rhyming is like a pencil grip. I started to write poetry in forms and rhymes which guided me and trained me in discipline.

I long ditched the once safe guard. I figured that if I kept walking with a crutch, I hardly walk in freedom.

There are still times I rhyme, given the word chosen is the best fit to the line. There is comfort in knowing a satisfying piece of work finds its way back to basic, the pencil grip.

Lockdown Freedom

warm sun radiates 
through the blue sky
the perfect match of
bitter coffee
and raisin toast
make an irresistible 
delight

my mind colours 
the day
in happy notes
played in 
paradise

imagination gives wings
hovering above
four walls
my spirit leaps
disguised as 
a dragonfly

Let's go 
outside
in daylight
counting each moment
alive
a gift
of surprise



A Battered Coin

he lost his value
battered and bruised
lying wasted in a laneway

she saw him
and was so happy
to pick him up
and make him
her luck penny

he hated to be soaked
in vinegar and salt
she scrubbed him shining
he became her treasure

Silence as Rejection

We can't communicate with silence.
Silence makes everything paused.

We can't make peace in silence.
Silence is a punishment for a decision we made.

We can't reconcile in silence.
Silence choke all the good memory we shared.
We can't celebrate the good times in our past alone.

Now you have your silence.
We have rejection.

Unsure

I am not sure
if I ever
want forever

good dreams 
end in waking
real dreams
never come true

I am only sure
of this moment
if my heart 
feels warm 
and fuzzy
if my mind
is at peace

I am not sure
how to live
in tomorrows
when it comes
to the issue 
of my heart
and the matter
of love

Small Variation

This is written for The Living Poetry August visual prompt

Butterfly is a halo effect.
The B word lands on one's lips.
It becomes hope and triumph.

One should take a closer look.
Not all butterflies are born equal 
or fly in resurrected freedom.
Some are more splendor in looks.
Some are midiocre at best.
Some are just ugly moths die trying hard.

Butterfly is a spectrum.
Butterfly effect lies in the small details.