Category: Poetry and Prose

Road Trip

The happy sun, the story telling clouds, the birth pain pink sky were inspiring.

Landscapes pulled me over with their outstretched arms along the highway. I read my book by the cows and sheep sharing their green pasture; I drank by the brooke with rainbow lorikeets; I hid from the storm under sugarcane plantation; I yarned with the locals at the grocery store.

The smell of the artificial ocean air refresher, dark roast coffee, MacDonald’s Happy Meal in the car brought me back to reality.

A road trip made my mind escape into the world outside the car window, some real, some imaginery, the rest was just an uninspired poet trying to make the most of a recent event.

Stormy clouds over Park Beach, Coffs Harbour

Poverty Doesn’t Discriminate

I read your application
Of a scholarship
You said
The scholarship
Would help you
Get new stationery
You said
You long to have
New pencils

I remember
In grade school
I wrapped paper
Around pencil stubs
To make them last longer

That’s four decades ago
In China
Back then
A third world country

We are in 2023
You are in Australia
Facing the same poverty
I can’t help
But cry

Time Apart

The space between us
Allows
Anger to be exhausted
Resentment to be overdone
Sadness to be evaporised
Memory to be filtered
And love to return

Uninspired

The nib is dry
Scratches through
Paper thin motivation
Leaving incoherent words

Suddent Panic

今天
我突然
心惊
在想
如果
我死了
你不知道
怎么办

后来
我想了想
觉得
没事
反正
我现在
生活得
怎样
你也是
不知道

Suddenly
I
Panic
Thinking
What if
I don’t know
About your passing

Then
I
Shrug
Realising
Nowadays
I don’t know
Anything about you
Anyway

I Don’t Know Your God

I have never hated anyone or anything, but I hate wars, and I hate more about wars fought in God’s name.

Rulers! Are your sons and daughters in the battlefield fighting alongside the innocent youth who are someone’s sons and daughters? Are you in the frontline to witness bloodshed and taste the metallic blood? Are you fearing for your own life?

There is no winner in wars, there are casualties, widows, fatherless, motherless, PTSD affected addictions, homelessness, destruction of families, deterioration of society.

The God you serve and fight for, it is not the God that I know, love and serve. What kind of parent would take delight in their children’s rivalry? What kind of King would be fuelled by their ego, insecurity and fear to watch their people suffer?

My God is gracious, righteous, merciful, loving and full of compassion. I grief for my God for every life lost in wars.

Pictograph

It Is What It Is

Writing with Little Charmer was very effortless, I feel we write in each other’s space and it blends. I hope you feel that way too when reading it.

From what happened
Between us last night
I have a feeling
This has potential

I even contemplate
to stay for breakfast
skip work
and love on you more
But after my first cigarette
I realised
for our art to be perfect
I must play the escape artist
once more

You see I cannot give you
What you want
Unless we can agree
To take it slow
I may not be sure
Of many things
But my fear of love
I know

If that’s not enough for you
We’d better call it quits
Not everything has a happy ending
Life can be a hit and miss

Teacher

You are my teacher

You taught me how to be a selfless human

You taught me patience and tolerance

You taught me snorkeling and rugby rules

I have a feeling that you will teach me a lot more

My heart is always full of your brilliance

My son

Sweet Nothings

Please don’t say
You love me
If you expect
To hear it back

So many times
I heard those
lovey dovey words
They meant nothing
in the end

I hope you could tell by the style of the writing that this is another collaboration between me and Little Charmer.