Outside my window pane
There is a bubble filled sky
Perfect for a dreamer like me
Lock myself in a winter hut
Walking in the Scotland rain
Author: Cassa Bassa
🇦🇺🇨🇳 inquisitive, observant, witty, a thinker, was a misfit child 😊
Prayer and Financial Support Needed
My editor Candice Louisa Daquin for my micro story collection “The Scars We Don’t See” has been battling Gastric Arrhythmia for the last 8 years. Now her illness is in a dire situation. She has an appointment at the Mayo Clinic on August 14 (or earlier) which is her only medical hope, but the cost to get there and receive treatment is far from her affordability.
I am asking you to support her in your prayers and in finance if you can.
With love and respect,
Cassa Bassa
Retreat
Wet with the nippy April rain
Wade through the forest of blue gums
Nature’s offer feeding the rowdy musk lorikeets
Bubbly green, blue, yellow and red feathers
Cheering me on this journey of avoidance
Escape from being buried in the world ‘s clutter
Deep moss and towering gums
My shelter and refuge
Beauty in The Falling
Our dreams have fallen at some point. It bruises us. Dreams get buried and forgotten most of the time. Occasionally, something picks them back up like the wind blows the fallen leaves, they take fly again and reveal once more how beautiful and enticing they once were before they touched the ground and got trampled on.
Anniversary – The Scars We Don’t See
My collection of micro fiction The Scars We Don’t See has been out for a year. I have no idea how many copies have been sold and how many people have read it. If you are interested, get a copy now.
Paperback:
Amazon UK
Amazon Australia
Amazon US
Barnes and Noble
Lulu
eBook:
Lulu
It started as an intention to leave something for my son to keep when I am gone (a bit morbid, I know). Then through the process of being guided by my publisher Tara and my editor Candice, to put this book together, I felt inspired by the joy a completed book brought to all parties involved. I am eternally grateful for Tara and Candice, deeply encouraged by Benjamin , without them, this book would not become a reality.
With love and respect, Cassa
Autumn Is Eatable
I taste the autumn colours
The crisp of lime
The zest of lemon
The sweetness of peach
The uncertainty of tangerine
And the unexpected quietness of dragon fruit
Some Short Poems Published on Susi’s Blog
Safety Or Anxiety It’s getting harder to murder someoneand get away with itCitizens feel safer It’s impossibleto keep any secretswhile the tech giants are watching The anxiety of being stalkedis real The Chapel She wore a black dressto his funeralOutside the chapelthe wind shook the pear blossomscovering her hair and backShe walked that walk againwearing a wedding veil […]
Jia-Li Yang (aka Cassa Bassa)
#songshare – La Serenata
Fly, o serenade: my beloved is alone
Vola, o serenata: la mia diletta è sola
And, with the beautiful abandoned head
E, con la bella testa abbandonata
Posing between the sheets
Posa fra le lenzuola
O serenade, fly
O serenata, vola
O serenade, fly
O serenata, vola
The moon shines pure
Splende pura la luna
The silence spreads
L’ale il silenzio stende
And behind the veins of the alcove
E dietro i veni dell’alcova
Bruna the lamp turns on
Bruna la lampada s’accende
The moon shines pure
Pura la luna splende
The moon shines pure
Pura la luna splende
Fly, o serenade
Vola, o serenata
Fly, oh serenade, fly
Vola, o serenata, vola
Ah…
Ah…
Fly, o serenade: my beloved is alone
Vola, o serenata: la mia diletta è sola
But smiling still half sleepy
Ma sorridendo ancor mezzo assonnata
Go back between the sheets
Torna fra le lenzuola
O serenade, fly
O serenata, vola
O serenade, fly
O serenata, vola
The wave dreams on the shore
L’onda sogna sul lido
And the wind on the branch
E il vento su la fronda
And it still refuses a nest to my kisses
E ai baci miei ricusa ancora un nido
My blonde lady
La mia signora bionda
He dreams of the wave on the shore
Sogna sul lido l’onda
He dreams of the wave on the shore
Sogna sul lido l’onda
Fly, o serenade
Vola, o serenata
Fly, oh serenade, fly
Vola, o serenata, vola
Ah…
Ah…
Living on Struggle Street
It’s a day
Without the sun
Slippery wet
Smells mould
My chest
Screams fear
Of another attack
The soup kitchen
Is five blocks away
I rather battle
Stomach acid
Than the cold
My baby’s looking at me
Wide eyed and whining
It sucks
To be poor
Sick
And a dog owner
Simple But Impossible
In my dream
We grow old together
You bring me a cup of tea with trembling hands
I ask you to go for a walk with me
And you still say no
Flicker of Thoughts 