Category: Poetry and Prose

Nip It in the Bud

3Lt extra virgin olive oil was on special
One for each hand to strike a balance
for my sore back

Financial saving and health
were the two birds I hit
with one stone

I wasn’t sure
was it Christmas shopping frenzy
or me in shabby clothing
plus 100% Chinese looking
earned the deadly stares
from a few fellow shoppers

I was tempted to grab
a couple packs of toilet paper
to balance on my head
just to be spiteful
or make a point

The righteous spirit in me
saved me from the seemingly
benign beginning of a racial war
in the year of the pandemic

A Princess’s Delusion

We only see her wiry hair
unknot, unkempt, undernourished
Her sallow face blends in
with the mould dampen walls
We know her dream of a prince rescue
in that desolate tower no more
If hope is what gives her light
the tunnel of time in her mind
is merely a paper clock illusion
embellished with sour milk memories

Moonlit Streets

memories are like sepia footprints trailing off
on those time polished cobblestone streets

lovers met by the bronze tiered fountain
leaning into the pool of silver moonlight
as the water cascading down
like a mermaid dress

she managed to shy away from his loving gaze
but the orange moon hung on the inky sky
turned her burning cheeks into a charred smile
left her pearly teeth echo the downpour of moonbeams

how many raw passion first kisses
how many lovers’ embrace
how many heartbreak stories
witnessed by the moonlit streets

Role Model

Mother
you are a fighter
and a survivor.
Your resilience
is next to none.
You value winning
over everything
even relationships
in human being.
But
I love you
anyway.
Because
Mother
your role model
of strength
carried me through
life’s turmoils.

What’s Missing

She paints
the spectrum of emotions
on her worn out heart

She writes
all senarios of life
into her dreams

She forgets to live
to give wings
to her dreams
to make her
come alive

Tasteless

This is a collaboration piece with Spirited Soul based on a Poetic Duets Prompt – “Pick any of the 5 senses. Now, imagine your life without it, and describe it poetically.” This prompt came from Instagram @PoeticDuets

Beautiful green and orange chunks weaved through the spongy dough.
Aromatic toasted nuts gave that firm structure
like the solid brick work in an architecture piece.
When the baking oven timer went off like a diner bell,
my nose was overwhelmed by the healthy wholesomeness.
My mouth salivated in great anticipation.

As I slide the fork from in between my lustrous lips,
I feel the thick, coarse lump in my mouth.
Swirling around like dry sand when I chew.
Feeling like a handful of moving bugs as I try to swallow.
The kind that land inside your mouth after an enjoyable motorbike ride.

Early Summer

At 5am,
she brewed the Arabica beans
into its sultry full body,
let it stain and burn her lips.

By sunrise,
she left her pretty garden behind,
hemmed it to her summer dress,
full of sunshine.

She drove her vintage convertible,
bathed in full golden rays.
Her luscious dark curls
smeared her apricot gloss.

She kicked off her canvas shoes,
freeing her feet
from the opaque tan lines.

She dived into the turquoise embrace,
weaving into the nonchalant fish,
deserted the world.

She was last seen
in early Summer.
That season was reported
the most rain.

Best Weekend Ever

Christmas activities have prefilled my calendar
from early November to late January
Jesus was only born in human form once
His birthday warrants a marathon celebration
Of course I am not arguing that

For some magical reason
this weekend is complete free
no friends or family gathering
no kid’s sport or birthday party
no grocery nor Christmas shopping
no tidy-up nor home cleaning

This is almost a hard fact to digest
You look at me
I look at you
You blink
I wink
This is gonna be the best weekend ever
Let’s do fuck all

The Night Owl Writer

The Living Poetry prompt – Night

Alive
is the night
when darkness strikes

Dim and gloom mood
lid up
by the cobra blue moonlight

Imagination
runs wild
on a sleek dark horse back

Twilight characters
born
in the witching hour

The tower card
read not in jeopardy
but in salvation