Toys

There was no concept of toys in my childhood.
For fun,
I trapped cicadas and fireflies,
caught dragonflies and tadpoles,
grew silkworms and hatched eggs,
made kites and kaleidoscopes,
slid down banana trees and swam in streams.

I had a 14-key toy piano in middle childhood.
I played Auld Lang Syne and
Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

The Barbie I had was in adolescence.
My father took a bicycle ride
with me on the back seat.
He saved 12 packs of smoke to
spend on a Barbie for me.
I was thirteen.

I made Barbie a studio apartment
with shoe box, handkerchief,
match boxes and play dough.
Two AAA batteries, an electric wire
and a light bulb in an old pill box
made Barbie her reading lamp.
I took pleasure in hand sewing
all Barbie’s dresses.
The favoirite gown was made from
cellophane lolly wrappers.

Wherever I go, I take these
wonderful memories and
treasures with me.

The power of words

Words, they either
build us up or cast us down.

The power they possess
penetrates deep within our spirit.

We sow kindness and truth.
We reap contentment and freedom.

We receive malice and lies.
We project hurt and hatred.

Words, they either
teach us perserverance or
give us excuse for destruction.

In a fallen world as such,
let my words be few if
my heart is wicked,
let me speak in pure intent
if my spirit is angelic.

Love in darkness

when darkness drapes off the sky
my love to you comes to life
the daylight silence
finally gives a voice to me
I sing odes to you
unleash in
whistle register
vocal fry
falsetto

you
my darling
sleep sweet
wake up beautiful
in the morning
greet me in honeydew smile
your sympathetic look
lingers throughout the day
my longing boils up
overflows into the dusk
my unrequited love
floods the night sky

Scarlet

She lured them in with
her scarlet lips and
velvet skin
poured flattering whispers
into their ears
exhaled candies to their nostrils
marked crimson on their chests

After each prey
she repainted the scarlet
in precision
let the toxin fragments
slowly poison her
so her soul struck
relief

Kylie – The Friendship Collection

whenever I meet a psychologist
I feel uneasey about being psychoanalysed
especially you do that to inmates
I was on my best behaviour
until you cracked jokes
and shared about your missionary trip

sharing the same birthday
is no coincidence
you are the impeccable psycho psych
I am the airy fairy day dreamer
there is nothing we hide from each other
over 2 glasses of wine

She and He and They

She
an only child grew up with cats
a city girl came from the subtropical rain
with lavender scent among the dragon ferns

He
a lone man curled up on a couch
immersing in books and writing stories
sipping black coffee with spices

They
watch people and clouds to pass time
tread through the powdery rain in Vans
reassemble Vincent’s starry night in jigsaw puzzle

under the autumn silvery moon
hedgehogs hide by the vegetable patch
melancholic harmonica playing softly

Too far gone

You haven’t written about me for a while.

You haven’t checked my blog for a while.

Don’t change subject.

Don’t think my blog is about you.

It isn’t?

It isn’t! It’s about my life and people around me. I have told you before and the time before that.

Oh! I have been busy with work.

People work. It’s a blessing.

Why do you run out of things to write about me?

The world does not revolve around you.

But I thought we are special.

You are special! 🙄

Are you mad at me?

Nope!

You are mad at me, aren’t you? I can tell cos you look annoyed.

🙄

You are doing the 360° eye rolling thing and giving me silent treatment.

😶

Why don’t you write about I annoyed you then. Here you are some inspiration for ya!

Yea mate! 🤯

……

Far out! That’s why you are my ex ex ex, so far gone…😤

Redeem

kitty tangled in yarn
no longer playful

fish trapped in net
no way home

head walked into spider web
no escape horror

chest tied with knots
no relief channel

only your smile
warrants reprieve
releases me from
nuisance
nightmare
torment
fear

Lan – The Friendship Collection

back to back interviews
6 had been done and my brain screamed exhaustion
there is always something about the number 7
there you were
professionally groomed
impeccable performance
a shining young talent
with a compassionate heart
respect from a perfectionist to another
since day dot

I have never told you I admire
your earnest effort put in speed dating
I have never told you I am grateful
you accepted my machine gun bullets no filter comments
I always remember I told you
Benny is a crossbreed
while Milo is a border collie
I have never shared with you
I cherish our friendship beyond
the dog park and coffee catchups

20181125_1503563439562648664215072.jpg

bumps – reblog

‘bumps’ by Mike Ennenbach – click  bumps

This is my first reblog post, and it may well be the last.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I do.