How come you see my pain?
Am I that obvious?
I live with pain for so long.
I recognise it like a kindred spirit.
How come you don’t show it?
You look happy.
I am happy.
I found a way to keep my pain at bay.
How come I don’t see what you see?
Perhaps you are blinded by anger.
Pain does that to us.
last night
you appeared in my dreams
fluttering your wings
in an empty room
devoid of music
this morning
I woke up
with the trail of the incense
burning in my studies
mistaken to be
your sensual perfume
my stained bathrobe
weighted me down
with the dread of
a new day
I keep watching
the moon courting the stars
till dawn
a reality of my life
till I will see you again
when I am old and grey
you know my love
this endless reminiscence
I shall satisfy
till the last of
my breath
Love makes us
exceedingly jolly
so
we
squibble love notes
dabble erotica
dribble poetry
squabble in an reality TV show
Photo taken by Cassa Bassa at Sydney Harbour Bridge, Australia
Our backyard is burning
Our conscience is trapped in a furnace
There is no Daniel to intercede for us
There aren’t angels to our rescue
We are sitting with our transgression
against our mother earth
We have been wallowing in the luxury of
blue sky, calm rivers, flourishing forest
while
sweeping our sin under the poisoned land
committing more in the name of economic growth
Our backyard is on fire
Is it all too late
for us to escape from our wrongdoing
when
pleading tears dry out
before God can hear our cry
to send rain
She sieved trough the rumours
like red dust between her fingers
trampled them deep under her bare feet
once ran wild on the land
by the sea
where she echoed her dreams to the void
at night
set sail to the edge of the horizon
waited patiently for
the break of dawn
even the brightest star in the sky
suffered through the night
– dedicated to Tara Caribou
5 year old Cassa
quiet and reserved
keep singing in the shower
nobody needs to know
13 year old Cassa
still an ugly duck
keep wearing boy’s uniforms
nobody gives a fuck
18 year old Cassa
boys are gross
books smell much better
write your raw heart out
spill it on pages
who cares if
they never ever get read
21 year old Cassa
good on you
pack your bag
go as far as you can
chase a place called home
for your unsettled heart
30 year old Cassa
I know you are tired
sitting with your feelings
is never comfortable
if you don’t
they will be burried further
and the scars become deeper
it will take longer to heal
40 year old Cassa
you are exhausted
aren’t you love
there is a way out
you know love
you just need to
take the first step
then the rest follows
50 year old Cassa
you are laughing at yourself
always taking things so seriously
remember the 5 year old you
sang in the shower
when you first found your voice
keep that childlike free spirit
and innocence
life is funny, laughable
and joyous
60 year old Cassa
slow down
no one is watching
and competing with your vigour
the kids understand
that you can’t catch up
with the grandkids
and he is even slower than you
so relax Cassa
70 year old Cassa
by all means
glue to him
just like when you first met
be the couch potatoes together
let him rub your feet
give all your best
in a killer blow job
cos any day
could be your last
why not live in climax
everyday
That day
Sydney was hit by the hail storm
the establishment was quiet
the sheets were white and clean
the candles were burning as usual
sending out choking artificial fragrance
the room
was claustrophobic as usual
she pulled out the Target catalog
looking through the baby supplies
who would think
she fell pregnant on the job
and
she hid it well
to keep working
to keep saving
towards her freedom
she really enjoyed the peace and respite
but
good time didn’t last
the warm liquid gushing between her legs
the red ink spreading on the snow white sheets
Mama Mama! She called out for help
the scrawny faced woman rushed in
then
rushed her to the hospital
she had blood on her hands
just didn’t want to have more blood
soaked into her soul
The birth of her baby boy
marked the return of her freedom
12 years
she suffered in silence
without identity
without freedom
without hope
She named him Isaac
for her heart was filled with laughter
being delivered from her captivity
the cold and lonesome train track
lies in wait for her lovers
only to pass by
no tears no aches
for a steel and iron heart
just allowing them
to trample all over her
gone and returned
again and again
the wear and tear on them
always
the train wrecks
the track lies in wait
as always
without a heartbeat
How I wish
love is like catching the subway
There is always a next one when you miss this one
The in between time is perfect for adjusting the mood
without overthinking who is to be blamed
But we all know too well
lost love is like a river springs to the east
we can never quite stop the flow of sorrow
until it floods our sleepless nights
如果感情象乘地铁那样多好
错过了一趟可以赶乘下一趟
之间可以收拾情绪做好准备
不用守株待兔那样傻傻地等
可惜感情却如一江东流春水
愁绪滔滔不绝浸湿无眠之夜
Submissions are open for the Poetry Anthology “The Poets Symphony” till 31 January 2020.
Some of you may not blog for publishing, me included. But hey! It is about likeminded people working on a worthwhile literature project.
I have submitted a couple pieces, whether they get published or not, I had so much fun and enthusiasm in creating them.
with love and respect,
Cassa Bassa
Flicker of Thoughts 