Resting

You are remembered on earth here
where the land meets the sea
Your ashes and bones vibrated
by the waves battering the rocks
unending
and yet
you are begging for more
to remind you that
your life is ongoing
after its last breath
till the ocean erodes the land
You go under the water
and be free

Photos by Cassa Bassa, Waverly cemetery, Bondi beach, Sydney, Australia

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

I don’t know what to do
except sobbing with you.
I would love to give you the world
God has intended for you.
But I have found myself
standing in a place
living the wrong life
or
I am taking up a heart’s space
by being in the wrong time.

woman looking at sea while sitting on beach
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Do and Be

Life is fragile when we think it will go on.
Do things you always want to do and you don’t need to be ready.
Go places you always want to be without planning.
See people you want to see just because.
Say I love you to someone special and not worry if you hear it back.
Life is fragile and you live it as intended.

 

Minimalist

A collaboration with Jonathan Swift Pines

There are things she sees are pretty
They go beyond her basic needs

The sun is warm and cheery
Too much of it
freckles gather on her cheeks

Charming freckles, like those on a child
whose innocent heart would burst with a smile

The rain is soothing and musical
Too much of it
sadness floods on her soul

Raindrops can harmonize with memories
Too many and the mind is adrift

The world of art is beautiful and enchanting
Too much of it
inadequacy breaks down her creativity

Happiness makes her vulnerable
The more she has, the more she has to lose

There are so many lows after the highs
When all that is stripped away
She realises how much satisfaction
she has in a mundane life

Thank God You Are Alive

I don’t know
how do people live with
not knowing
if their love one
is alive or dead

I can only imagine
they are like a blowfish
keeps every possibility inside

I have been like that
for the last few days
until today
I come to know that
you are alive

This news is like
a gentle hand
gives me permission
to cry

I can only imagine
the other news
would be like a knife
stabs and twists
all the possibilities
to bleed out

Letter to self

5 year old Cassa
quiet and reserved
keep singing in the shower
nobody needs to know

13 year old Cassa
still an ugly duck
keep wearing boy’s uniforms
nobody gives a fuck

18 year old Cassa
boys are gross
books smell much better
write your raw heart out
spill it on pages
who cares if
they never ever get read

21 year old Cassa
good on you
pack your bag
go as far as you can
chase a place called home
for your unsettled heart

30 year old Cassa
I know you are tired
sitting with your feelings
is never comfortable
if you don’t
they will be burried further
and the scars become deeper
it will take longer to heal

40 year old Cassa
you are exhausted
aren’t you love
there is a way out
you know love
you just need to
take the first step
then the rest follows

50 year old Cassa
you are laughing at yourself
always taking things so seriously
remember the 5 year old you
sang in the shower
when you first found your voice
keep that childlike free spirit
and innocence
life is funny, laughable
and joyous

60 year old Cassa
slow down
no one is watching
and competing with your vigour
the kids understand
that you can’t catch up
with the grandkids
and he is even slower than you
so relax Cassa

70 year old Cassa
by all means
glue to him
just like when you first met
be the couch potatoes together
let him rub your feet
give all your best
in a killer blow job
cos any day
could be your last
why not live in climax
everyday

Between blinks

In a blink of an eye
farewelled my childhood
there was more life’s demand
than playing in the sand pit

In a blink of an eye
waved goodbye to school years
there were more knowledge and learning
than burning the midnight oil

In a blink of an eye
jetted off in an aeroplane
there were different palletes of colour
than painting the same lanscape of my motherland

In a blink of an eye
so longed the selfish me
there is another life far more precious
than my own

In a blink of an eye
grieving the passing of my youth
there is room for more wisdom
than recounting the once undeniable outward beauty

Between these blinks
a curious mind explored the world
an earnest student looked for answers
a restless heart searched for a home
a woman strived for being whole
a hunger soul is still seeking peace

The one that got away

She window shops many times
at the downtown family owned jeweller.
With all the wealth she has,
there is no issue of wearing the piece
with pride on her elegant neck.

She understands
the charm of being unattainable.
So she stands admiring
through the crystal clear glass,
lets the emerald piece reflect of
her honey brown eyes.
They become envious amber,
burning her face to coral,
the same way she feels about
the summer love by the reef
long time ago.
It was like a spurge of fireworks,
and yet, it lingers for a life time.

She clears her throat
and holds back her tears.
It is not regret that she feels.
It is the illusion of love that she aches for.

Ageless

when we were little
we kissed
then spat on the ground
where a seed was buried
hoped a tree would grow

when we were parents
we spat venom at each other
hoped our children
would grow unaffected

when we were old
we spat the dummy at our children
hoped they didn’t notice

we have been toddlers in nappies
all through our life
hoped no one would ever
point a finger at us
the terrible twos

Why

she fell in love with
the same type of men
whom
over promised
and
under delivered

they promised forever
but half way
they gave in to
loneliness
temptation
and
greed

she fell in love with
the same type of men
not once
not twice
but trice

she can’t help to think
what is wrong with her
is she
so blind
so dull
so inconceivable

chose to see
the good in people
is not a ticket
for abuse
pursuit
the simple things
in life
surely is not
foolish