I have learned not to look too far ahead.
Because tomorrow is an illusion
while today is a pandora yet to be opened.
I cannot afford to waste my breaths on
fearing the mountains ahead.
Because I must fix my gaze on the unseen force that moves the mountain.
I have realised how much strength I lack.
And yet for the last however long
I am still plowing ahead with strength that I never have.
So, let go and let God!
He alone can indeed carry me to the end.
Simply satisfied
her heart is
the rollercoaster
in the amusement park
of the sanctuary valley
she is grateful
when she sounds
I need you
I want you
I miss you
I love you
they boomerang
what better place
than this
where her heart
finds rest
The leopard’s prayer

My ancestors in heaven
snow king be your name
Your kingdom come
your will be done
in winter as it is in other seasons
Give me this day my daily prey
and protect me from my predators
as I also have protected my cubs
And lead me not into desolation
but deliver me from famine
Pain
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.
无尽之爱 Endless love

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 does that
Love makes us
exceedingly jolly
so
we
squibble love notes
dabble erotica
dribble poetry
squabble in an reality TV show
Is it all too late

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
A bright star
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
Letter to self

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
12 years
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
