Tree and Paper

Living Poetry prompt – Tree

If only
you can see the future
You won’t get hung up
on wrapping your arms
around the memory
of your thriving youth

The old self you shed
pushing outward
to form calluses
telling the world
that you are wiser
by counting the rings
of your wrinkles

You never see the future
of your exhausted face
made into sheets of canvas
for beauty to take forms
pleasing to our eyes
and souls

Coming Soon

My submission of ‘The Great Escape’ has been accepted for publication in the upcoming anthology ‘Wounds I Healed’.

I thank Gabriela Marie Milton (Short Prose) and Ingrid Wilson (Experiments in Fiction) who have given me the opportunity to share my work. I am eternally grateful.

Sepia Love

I waited for you to rise
to tap a poem
while coffee was feeding your word frenzy
We didn’t make it to a thousand day fairy tale
I only made as far as my sanity allowed
The seas and mountains between us
humbled me
They were truly unshakable

Doll

Living Poetry May visual prompt


She is that girl
confined in the mold
they carved out for her

Every bit of her is labelled
categorised and put aside
for the common view of this world

All is in order
But all is out of place
in the creator’s eye

She can’t survive
She can’t shine
She is miserable in nature’s sight

Gone Too Soon

It’s a sunny morning! April realised when she stepped out the door for her usual morning walk down the bakery for coffee and cornetto. She dropped her rain jacket by the door and launched herself into the warm glow.

After her routine walk, she decided to venture further to the local nursery, maybe, to get a little plant, or just to inhale the prime of spring. Once she entered the nursery, she hesitated. It was busier than she imagined in such early hour of the day. She suddenly grew self conscious over her unwashed face, messy bed hair, and without underwears beneath the white t-shirt and grey lounge pants. She folded her arms across her breasts to create some safety.

Soon she was distracted by the multi colour tulips and grape hyacinths. She reached out her hand to touch the ferns and manoeuvered the pot to read the label – Northern Lady Fern. Right at that moment, her fingers felt the moist and warmth which drew her to an innocent chocolate face of a puppy. Her heart melted instantly and she lowered herself to the level of this delicious ball of cuteness. “Hey, little one! What’s your name? Awwww…you know you are cute, don’t you?”

“Honey!” A magnetic voice startled her. She followed the voice and looked up, there stood a man in tan cargo pants and a navy polo shirt. He was wearing a grin decorated with scruffy beard, just passed the threshold of the five o’clock shadow. Immediately she was embarrassed imagining how he would see her – squatting down in a mess next to the puppy and could not take her hand away from its affection. “Her name is Honey.” He must have seen the complex expression on her face, so gone on to clarify. “And she has your eyes…honey brown.”

“Oh, ok.” She got up avoiding eye contact with him, walked almost in a fleeting speed to hide herself in the tall palms and citrus trees. She felt so bad that she ‘abandoned’ the cutest puppy, but she felt even worst about keeping that interaction going in her indecent outfit.

It had been ages, she finally felt safe to slowly move out from the tall plants toward the nursery exit. Just when she eased up her nerves and started to breathe more steadily. That nerve wrecking voice came out of nowhere, “April’s gone too soon.” He stood in front of her like a pine tree, with the puppy sitting obediently next to him on a leash. “What?” That’s all she could manage to mutter. ‘How does he know my name?’ She was puzzled. “Ahhh…I said April has gone too soon. It’s first of May today already. See, the citrus trees have grown a lot…” His magnetic voice trailed her all the way through the exit door.

‘Don’t look back April, it’s been a cluster of embarrassment. Mother, you are right again. Never go out without dressing appropriately because you’ll never know who you’ll meet.’

Almost

Almost is a treacherous word

We say that to kids
to encourage them to learn and grow

Try saying that to a grown-up
You almost made it
You have the potential
but couldn’t make it a reality

Almost is a treacherous word
It means
you are
as useful as none
as valuable as nought

Unapologetic

Under my tongue
lie unformed words
like a cluster of emotions
unspoken
hidden in the silence
you so despise

Being
me
is not enough
You demand reasons
for the way I am

Apology is not
a peace offering
that pleases you

I offer us peace
by biting my tongue
to set us free

Community

A Six Sentence Story word prompt – Tree, hosted by Girlie on the Edge

That was a tough financial decision to make about purchasing this old house to convert the front of the house and the court yard into a cafe for all to come and enjoy time together as a community.

It all started from a group of poets and short story writers and enthusiasts wanting a place to meet and share their passion.

We built slowly with just a few small tables and chairs under the giant banyan tree in the middle of the court yard, then a hand craft wooden work bench installed, came the commercial coffee machine acquired in an liquidation auction along with bits and pieces cafe equipment.

My love is the barista on the coffee machine making aromatic beverage with artistic touch, and our patrons write their own orders, pay in the wooden chest, put away used coffeeware in the dishwasher, while I fill in the gap of whatever needs doing.

Surely but slowly, our little cafe is becoming the gathering place for local and international poets and writers to cultivate the art of words, with three prominent groups: the Brother’s Campfire led by Benjamin; the Living Poetry hosted by Batholomew; and the Six Sentence Story managed by Denise, who so fondly named our cafe “The 6 Sentence Cafe”.

Now our home, also our place of work, is filled with like-minded people where the beauty of creativity is brewing with the coffee beans, rain or shine, in this little cosy corner of the old town.

Water Lily

This is inspired by Bree’s recent post Give It A Go


The flirtatious candle flames dancing in the room
Such tempting ambience in the deep of the night
Even the pregnant moon shys away
and hides behind the ruby sky

How about we put off tomorrow
peel off layers of shame
lay off all expectations
Let the satin sheet subdue our fervent wants
Trembling fingertips to steady these urging waves in vain
Your burning lips iron the wrinkles around my mouth
teaching me the secret of blooming and fading

You have made me the only water lily in Monet’s night garden