Category: Poetry and Prose

Toys

There was no concept of toys in my childhood.
For fun,
I trapped cicadas and fireflies,
caught dragonflies and tadpoles,
grew silkworms and hatched eggs,
made kites and kaleidoscopes,
slid down banana trees and swam in streams.

I had a 14-key toy piano in middle childhood.
I played Auld Lang Syne and
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

The Barbie I had was in adolescence.
My father took a bicycle ride
with me on the back seat.
He saved 12 packs of smoke to
spend on a Barbie for me.
I was thirteen.

I made Barbie a studio apartment
with shoe box, handkerchief,
match boxes and play dough.
Two AAA batteries, an electric wire
and a light bulb in an old pill box
made Barbie her reading lamp.
I took pleasure in hand sewing
all Barbie’s dresses.
The favoirite gown was made from
cellophane lolly wrappers.

Wherever I go, I take these
wonderful memories and
treasures with me.

The power of words

Words, they either
build us up or cast us down.

The power they possess
penetrates deep within our spirit.

We sow kindness and truth.
We reap contentment and freedom.

We receive malice and lies.
We project hurt and hatred.

Words, they either
teach us perserverance or
give us excuse for destruction.

In a fallen world as such,
let my words be few if
my heart is wicked,
let me speak in pure intent
if my spirit is angelic.

Love in darkness

when darkness drapes off the sky
my love to you comes to life
the daylight silence
finally gives a voice to me
I sing odes to you
unleash in
whistle register
vocal fry
falsetto

you
my darling
sleep sweet
wake up beautiful
in the morning
greet me in honeydew smile
your sympathetic look
lingers throughout the day
my longing boils up
overflows into the dusk
my unrequited love
floods the night sky

Scarlet

She lured them in with
her scarlet lips and
velvet skin
poured flattering whispers
into their ears
exhaled candies to their nostrils
marked crimson on their chests

After each prey
she repainted the scarlet
in precision
let the toxin fragments
slowly poison her
so her soul struck
relief

She and He and They

She
an only child grew up with cats
a city girl came from the subtropical rain
with lavender scent among the dragon ferns

He
a lone man curled up on a couch
immersing in books and writing stories
sipping black coffee with spices

They
watch people and clouds to pass time
tread through the powdery rain in Vans
reassemble Vincent’s starry night in jigsaw puzzle

under the autumn silvery moon
hedgehogs hide by the vegetable patch
melancholic harmonica playing softly

Redeem

kitty tangled in yarn
no longer playful

fish trapped in net
no way home

head walked into spider web
no escape horror

chest tied with knots
no relief channel

only your smile
warrants reprieve
releases me from
nuisance
nightmare
torment
fear

bumps – reblog

‘bumps’ by Mike Ennenbach – click  bumps

This is my first reblog post, and it may well be the last.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do.

This is not me

I am having a real hard time
to accept how oversharing
I am with you

It’s like constantly breaking a moral code
As if I had been lying all those times
before your arrival
All the descriptive words about me
aloof, distant, absent, drifted, silent…

I am completely being inappropriate
As if I am possessed by a chatter box amplifier
manifests itself in file download with high speed optic fibre
flying to be stored in your digital briefcase
the moment I am awake
synchronicity is in autopilot

Oh hacker! get me out of here
before my cheeks burn into hot coals

Blur

time passed
memory faded

we met
we played
we dated
we parted

never fought
never clashed
never debated
never communicated

no sad goodbyes
no turning back
no once more
no foever ever

time passes
memory blurs

Calabash

calabash
your pale beauty
hidden in a luscious emerald screen
your smooth ivory skin reflected off
the cobra blue moonlight

I run my warm fingers on your valley curves
along your spine as celo playing hauntingly
monsoon rain moistens my tongue
feeding the starvation in me

my hunger eyes and barren lips
no longer self contained
charging unshackled to shake you
off the cord