Light in Abundance

In the spirit of Easter, I decide to write a post about the good things in life. Where there is darkness, there is the polar opposite light.

I am in awe of who God is. He is my heavenly Father, mighty and faithful. He gave me Jesus whom is my saviour and best friend. There is no better consellor and comforter than the Holy Spirit.

I have a family by blood not by choice. They are a living proof of forgiveness, patience and harmony.

Failed past relationships showed me who I am. These many cracked mirrors taught me the imperfection of my own reflection. And yet light still shines on me throught the shards of glass.

For the love ones who are no longer here, although I cannot argue with silence and reason with absence, I have abundance of memories to celebrate and have a jolly good laugh at.

For every living being surrounding me everyday, you are a light filled kaleidoscope. I am simply amazed by you and grateful for your light.

Over Sharing

This piece is inspired by Baker’s Introduction Poem

The meetings
The idealists
Oh how annoying
Hands waving
Pick me, me , me
Machine gun firing ideas
Who is gonna get down
and carry out the plan
And who will pick up the pieces
scattered around the finish line

At least
I have control over poetry
I started one
and I definately finish it
Even sometimes it reads rubbish
I may not get recognised for brilliance
I certainly get a medal for persistence
I ranted
like bursting a pimple
What a relief

Feelings

Feeling, you fickle little thing!
How did you deceive a heart so strong to break?
How did you hide from the mountain of sadness
to portrait such a bright grin
each and every day?
How much do you give out to the world to see?
How long do you want to stay behind the bars
of your own tangled web?
Feeling, I thought you were my watch tower.
And you truned out to be the red flags
that I couldn’t see.

Oops

Kitty is rubbing himself incessantly
on the corner of my mobile phone.
I am holding tight to stop sending
the sandwich text prematurely.
It will be bad, very bad
if you only get the flimsy bun
and the brunt of the meat
without the spongy esteem.

Kitty doesn’t like me ignoring him.
No, no, not a bit!
He progresses to lie between me
and the phone screen.
It’s hard to perfect a message ensemble
while ducking my head left and right.
Aaaaaachoo!
Gone the message with scramble words.
Oops!!!

Disconnected

This piece is responding to Lucy’s word prompt – Disconnected

Day shines into night
Ivy clings on and thrives
Sunday transits into a buzzing week
Cool moon elevates into the crack of dawn
Old men see themselves in babes
New born hurries to grow up
Nomality in life expires
East wind overlooks west in demise
Continents united underneath the valley of seas
Treetop rooted by underground mechanism
Empty rooms filled with love day by day
Disconnection is far from nature’s calling

Industrialisation Side Effect

We do life
in such a rush
let beauty
slip through time

Our minds are racing
in such speed
leaving ideas
stillborn

People are
less tolerant
missing out on
the wisdom
of the prudent

We exist
this mere existence
drowning in
short supply
of joy

Melancholy Life

This piece is a translated meaning of Jun’s original poem in Chinese. Jun is a loving husband, a proud father and a successful business man. His love for literature and tea remain throughout his life.

I only know this life even reincarnation may be real. The rain stopped as tears also dried out in my hollow and withered frame. I may sit in solitary and mesmerised by the past. And yet no amount of sweet memory surpasses my speck of reality.

Time drifted away and aged me. I still broadcast my love to the clouds. They echo within the walls of my ears, so loud and clear. But I wake up every morning and experience the same realisation that they are just dreams. I cannot defeat this mundane life. Poetry and prose are my only hope to keep on living.

不论几世仅一生，泪干雨歇花凋零， 重忆情恩俱往昔，柔情蜜意愧真人。 不论光阴岁月残，对云寄语几心思， 回音徒塞两耳鸣，岂知梦醒一场空， 按停时空成俗子，待将余生做愚诗。

The Harvest Moon

We were free spirited teenagers
rolling in the fresh hay
We had just grew out of rough and tumble play
and learned to blush while our skin lightly touched

Those days there were curfews in the village
Watches were not in our posession like time
While our parents folded the night in sheets of peaceful sleep
We were left out in the barn under the October harvest moon

Neither of us knew how to wind down
from that restless playful energy
Our hands shifted from tickling to messing of hair
Our laughter drowned out the cricket’s anthem

Eventually darkness cast over us like a heavy blanket
Our breaths became auditable
rapid, rushing, out of sync
the build-up and pre-warning of a tsunami
The calm moon was unable to rein in the untamed young blood

The End

Being misunderstood on a specific matter
I have the courage to explain

Being accused of bearing ill intentions
I have no need to engage

Believing lies is a choice you made
Believing us is a mistake I made

Early Autumn Flood

It's the prelabour 
of something precious 
and beautiful

The gushing wind uproots 
young trees
Mother earth is wailing 
for her final push

In one second 
of absolute silence
born a new babe
with amber hair
blonde eyelashes
and hazel orbs

The prophecy is fulfilled