Collaboration

Jun wrote the Chinese version. I mirrored the meaning in English.

some day
poetry became your lover
I became a stranger
I only found you by
diving into your verses

someday
we will collaborate
our poetry will become
a timeless classic
and
my last words

有一天
诗成了你的爱人
我成了陌生
拉开了距离
只有读诗才可以读懂你
才能共鸣

某一天
我的爱诗与你的爱诗交汇
组成绝唱
也变成绝笔

Blessing

she showed me the scars
they are drag marks
skin cuts
bullet dents

she showed me all these
with a smile and misty eyes

she told me the blackouts were blessings
memory of her husband taken but not beaten or killed
she told me their six children are blessings
she is wearing the victor’s crown

she is the aunty in her community
children grew up in her street are sweethearts
women with all colours are her sisters
she is the glue bonding broken families together
breathing in new life with her gratefulness

she did not tell people she is a saint
she breaths, lives and acts holy
she is a saint

we put our arms side by side
sesame and banana
we hugged and cried in joy
God made our paths cross
to share worship, praise and
thanksgiving

 

 

 

 

Companion

our home
is neat and cosy
contrasting
my internal chaos
and
your slowly boiling anxiety
there is no escape
into each other
for healing
instead
we swim
in our own heads
together
side by side
to create stories
for our children
to read

 

smiling business kids with daily planners at home
Photo by Gustavo Fring on Pexels.com

Sanctuary

This used to be our secret place
Where the still water stirred by our rosy kisses
Frantic hands hidden in the bush laden inlet

Sacred kingfishers were jealous of our playfulness
Darting through the green and grey branches

Pied cormorants were watchful of the riverbank
The green and blue river rippled perfect reflection of their orbs

We sailed our little yacht along the stretched yellow mangrove
Left our sanctuary behind in the tangerine sunset

Painting by Virginia Bucknell, you may see more of Virginia’s paintings via: Art Lovers Australia  Weebly   Instagram

A Lullaby

The Living Poetry prompt – Sleep

When the wind blows
The trees grow old
My baby’s in a sleep
All my worries unfold

When the sun rises
The new day begins
My heart’s filled with hope
watching my baby grow

close up photo of sleeping baby
Photo by Dominika Roseclay on Pexels.com

A Woman Can Dream

I don’t want to be awake
from a field of yearning tulips
under the indigo violet sky

I want to stay dreaming of
a future of you and me
in earnest paint brush strokes
and
waterfalls of poetry

 

It is like a music box!

A beautiful collection showcasing a collective of world-wide talents.

When I was reading it, it was like listening to a music box playing timeless tunes throughout time.

The different writing styles from various poets and poetesses kept me engaging and stimulating my senses.

Kindle version     Paperback version

 

screenshot_20200415-215923_chrome1311162247059250069.jpg

Not All Dreams Come True

The recurring dream visited me again

I lie weak and still
in a white bleach bed

The IV drips in a limestone cave
dissociates from my vein

His magnetic reading voice
drifting in and out of my conscious
sometimes the news
sometimes poetry
sometimes from my favourite novel

The sun is warm and bright
My inside is just a set of dying organs
My eyes surrender to the light

I woke up in the middle of the night
It was raining outside
The reality hit me
He was so far away from me
Dying alone was no longer a dream.

Window Shopping and Fantasies

click
flying into the cart
1 floral sundress
hmm sex on the kitchen bench

click
adding 1 to the cart
1 pair of thigh high boots
fuck me or fuck me not

click
one more to the cart
1 luxurious persian rug
bye bye carpet burns

click
there you go on your way
1 baby onesies
oops…

click, click, click, click
clear the cart
click “X”

that was therapeutical

Untied

An effortless collaboration with Ben, do check out his amazing poetry on Instagram Remedy Poems

 

My words are falling
over your collarbone
like loose strands
dipped in charcoal
bleeding through skin
The things you craved
but now regret
Home is a memory
distant and frostbitten
Abandoned
by turquoise hands

close up photo of woman s face
Photo by Chermiti Mohamed on Pexels.com