Summer Holiday

Thirroul Beach, NSW Australia

You used to live by the sea
free like a dandelion
wild like a daisy field

I drove the winding roads
with the car windows down
let the summer sun bite my arm

We picked seashells
like little kids
buried each other in hot sand

We dipped Tim Tam biscuits
in black tea with soy milk
read books to each other

We curled up by the campfire
listened to James Blunt
ate barbecued marshmallows

That was the summer holiday
I spent visiting you
before you left the sea


This is another collaboration with Bree. Do check out her written and audio poetry, you will be sated:  Secret Thoughts Within

I see you sitting here all alone 
wondering if your worries
will keep you up again tonight

I hate seeing you break
watching the light draining
from your sunken eyes

Let it wash away
you were never meant
to carry a burden so laden   

Tell me your troubles 
pour them out into my open heart
and together we’ll break the chains of despair 

Frozen Smiles

It was just yesterday
We bid farewell
to our glorious youth

In my naiive optimism
I thought of many reunions
coming our way

Last night
I heard of your passing
Life startled me

I hurried to that yesterday
snapped a photo of your smile
attached it to my prayers
hoping you remember us
once shared that celebrated chapter

– dedicated to Amanda B. (November 1960 – March 2021)

We Share the Moon

This poem was originally posted on 17 March this year. I wrote this poem as a dedication to my fellow blogger and dear friend Robbie (ArchangelWhiteWolf). Some of you may also have been following Robbie’s blog and know that Robbie decided to close his blog. I feel it is fitting for me to post this poem again to remember Robbie.

When I sit alone
under the pastel moonlight
I imagine you sitting in solitude
sighing into the cosmic night sky

How many battles have you fought
How many dreams have passed you by

I stretch out my arms
in rolled up sleeves
trying to catch as many wishes
you shout to the universe
as my heart is able to contain
turn them into prayers
lighting up the dying dreams
of a warrior


zoltan-tasi-0khu-rgbjzo-unsplash (1)8337066126685810668..jpg

Photo by Zoltan Tasi on



A depressed teenager, I was, and insomniac. People came and went like whirlwind on a daily basis which left me dizzy and confused. Music and books were my true friends.

I must have been fourteen or fifteen when I started to write poetry. I produced two poetry collections with themes in love and nature. They were more like scrapbooks filled with hand scribbles, doodles and glued on magazine cut-outs. They were the treasure of my teens, and probably the only treasure I proudly claimed mine.

I had a pen friend, yes, a pen friend. Strong and I shared a common interest in poetry. We had written to each other for over three years. We got to exchange our favourite pieces of own poetry. After so many years, he still kept my correspondence. I am grateful to him because he preserved a few pieces of my poetry from early days.

You may wonder what about those two collections. Well, this is what this short writing about. Be careful where you leave your treasure and who you trust.

My buddy Bupa and I were very close. We talked on the phone for hours every day.  We talked about anything but nothing. In hindsight, they were mostly harmless banter but also completely time wasting. It seemed to me at that time of my lonely years, Bupa was my only trusted friend. When I decided to come to Australia to start a new life, I asked Bupa to keep my two poetry collections for me under lock and key until I returned. He didn’t say no. That was summer in 1998.

In 2014, I finally met up with Bupa and asked him to return my two collections. He told me he didn’t have them anymore. He threw them away because of fear of his wife’s jealousy. I was beyond shocked. The painful realisation of the little worth of our friendship had a secondary effect to the loss of my treasure, the loss of part of me.

In 2018, by blessing I reconnected with my pen friend Strong via social media. He took photos of the poems I sent along in letters to him. That’s how I managed to reunite with my teenage self through those poetry.

Trusting someone who are not trust worthy is a lesson for me to learn.

This short piece has been stewing in my mind for a while. I wanted to be a meaningful piece so I procrastinated. Now I wrote it, it is like a weight off my shoulders. I didn’t realise it bothered me so much. Now this is history, done and dusted.

Here are the English translation for the preserved early pieces:



The Appointment








Ash – The Friendship Collection

I see you everywhere
I am afraid to look too close, too intently
you may evaporate from my thinning mind

I paid attention to the Guinness beer at the bar
I heard your say
“come on love, let’s have a fag outside”

I saw you run topless along Mona Vale beach
Your laughter was a string of bells
sent a sense of peace in the midst of roaring waves

I fixed my eyes to you in the powder room
you straightened the black laced body sliming coset
touched up your flaming red lipstick

I dared not to approach
You might swirl up in the cigarette smoke
You might disappear into the cloud
You might walk back into the dressing mirror

I still see you everywhere
I try not to look too close, too intently
then you may stay a little longer in my memory




Vizzane – The Friendship Collection

You said your life was filled with farewells
Whenever you met a kindred spirit
they left before your smile settled

I left without saying goodbye
You must have pretended that I went solo sailing
You checked on the anniversary
and thought
the sea must have been a bit too rough that year

When I appeared like the sudden rain
You brought out beers to celebrate
the trophy of safe home coming