Bio

I thought writing a bio would be an easy task
Surely I can fill half a page about me
What would the reader want to know about me
What part of me that I’m willing to share
What is the connection between me and my writing
Should it be humourous
Should I just wing it
Am I overthinking

2022 Review

I have been hearing from co-workers, friends and relatives that they can’t wait for 2022 to end. I understand that to many, 2022 has been a year of readjusting after the world opened up.

Personally, I have found 2022 a bitter sweet year for me. For most part it has been filled with the blessing of orderly and ordinary life. I have been in good health; work has been challenging but fruitful; relationship and friendship are positive; more importantly, spiritual life is healthy and maturing. These are all the sweets.

The bitter portion lies in some colleagues were terminated from employment due to unjabbed from the mandatory COVID vaccines. These same colleagues who put their hands up to work through the first lockdown, to hold the fort, to maintain service to our customers while others stayed home to avoid getting infected. I missed the chance to say goodbye to them. Part of me know that they are doing well because they are people of principle and of faith. I had the fortune to work with them and I miss them.

2023 is looking like a fruitful year for me. A couple of my submissions got accepted for publishing early in the year. I am also getting a collection of micro fiction published, plus a painting and poetry collection (in collaboration with an Australian painter) is in final version.

Thank you, my readers and friends, for your support by reading, liking and interacting with me on this platform. You truly encourage and inspire me to continue to write poetry and micro stories. I wish you a 2023 filled with exceeding joy.

Love and respect,

Cassa Bassa

Content

I’d have loved a plantation of bamboo
to shield me from the rough weather
and chaos of the world
But I’m content with a little blue clump
shooting up narrow leaves on skinny legs

A cup of tea
a good book
for great company
Life is full

I named this Himalayan Weeping Bamboo, also known as Blue Bamboo ‘Manzu’ 满足 (means being content)

The Decline of Loneliness

This poem is dedicated to readers who are feeling lonely, depressed and hopeless. You have strength left in you to reach out, to dial the number and say ‘I’m not ok’.

the crowded room
is suffocating
comprehension of conversation
is fading
nodding
avoiding eye contcact
diminishing in chatter
and laughter

party is over
quick
shut the door
make myself small
curl up in a ball

sleep is not coming
live life vicariously
through social feeds
play some music
read some poetry
fighting loneliness
alone

the morning sun
is way too bright
red eyed
sallow skin
coffee tastes bland
not hungry
lack of will
to face the day

should check the mailbox
someone may wave
smile
and says Hi
it’s so worth getting up
step out
to see
hear
and
feel again

the door is locked
two metres is too far away
my will is too short-lived
rescue is too distant

drowning further down
into the whirlpool
of nothingness
on Boxing Day

The Truth Lost in the Mad Season

Apparently
calls to Lifeline
during Christmas
dramatically increased
One in three people reported
that they were lonely

We tend to
think about Christmas
as gift giving
family gathering
holiday planning
What if
you are all alone
and get fed these lies

What if
no one has told you
that Christmas is not
just about a saviour was born
because a lonely person thinks
so what that Jesus’ born

What if
someone tells you
that God so loved us
He sent His beloved Son
to earth
born and raised
in human form
Jesus lived among humans
and suffered a terrible death
for crimes He didn’t commit
to exchange for
things we did wrong
people we hurt
for a fresh start
for all of us
even the really bad guys

Christmas is about hope
the hope of
a life long friendship
with Jesus
the hope for
a fresh start
the hope of
being immensely loved
by God

Out of Place

The adductor
in the gym
makes me think of
right move
wrong place

Cross Path

I thought I saw a glimpse of you
My heart raced like a train wreck
My body temperature turned icy
like a snowman had no legs to run
Before my mind could encapsulate
you dissapeared in the crowded street
like an out of focus storyline

Afar

I see you better
when I close my eyes
I hear you clearly
in echoes
when I shout out your name
You are near
when we are strangers

Blank

I lost poetry on a sunny day
Your shadow walked away

The Deep Diver

Don’t you love it
that Spotify tells you
what kind of a music listener
you are
based on a year of play history?

AI pays me undivided attention
all hours of my life.
Aren’t they lovely?

Am I convinced that
what they define me
is true to myself?
Music is boundless
to my listening ears;
Appreciation to music
is also without hindrances.