A background Is redone. A painting Is restarted Again And again And again. Maybe one morning She will restart One more And finally get it done. There is peeping light Highlighting the canvas Naturally Glowing with a new story Sweeter to tell.
i don’t know when this work is going to complete – it is constantly a new start because of the artist’s unprofessional insecurity
the recipient is impatiently waiting, a deadline must be set — ok, ok 🙏🏼
This heart is flowing fluid Filling the soul with Redness of bravery And rage; Pinkness of romance And lust; Orangeness of warmth And attention craver; Yellowness of glory And jealousy; Greenness of tranquility And envy; Blueness of peace And mourning; Whiteness of singularity, And fear; Blackness of mystery And death. When the soul blinks, A spectrum ray chutes down On to the ocean of mind, Illuminates what’s to solve.
Is your face dyed as your heart is dyed, Beloved? And your words Your footsteps Your breaths Touch?
Hi, little bird. Befriend with your wings which look weak but bring you freedom. Befriend with your feet which look twiggy but hold you balanced. Befriend with your feathers which look light but give you warmth. Befriend with your eyes which look dark but show you pixels others can’t enjoy. Befriend with your tiny beak to sing only happy songs because sad songs are only for you when you’re with a trusted circle — hush! Untrusted flock will spill your sad stories everywhere to make themselves happy and feel important, and that will make you even sadder. Sing, perch, fly and enjoy your life responsibly freely.
Look, little bird. The sun shines brightly giving hopes to the heliotropic, while the air is yours through its pressurising differently every moment you move. Enjoy every second that you can capture, no matter what. Sing!
“I’m little bird, oh little bird in a short pretty life. I’m little bird, oh little bird in a realm of colours. I’m little bird, oh little bird, oh me.” 🪶
Taking from nature for free.
She should gratify.
When biking, I see many kinds of flowers at the side of the roads and most of them just dry and fall off. Falling in love with them, I stopped and plucked some. Did I regret….? A bit of regret, yes but then I whispered to the reservoirs that I thank them for all the freshness and beauty they lend me every time I pass by…..
You are not red
You are not yellow
You are not blue
You are all gradationally spread from one point to another,
Led by Time.
Time makes all matter.
It becomes every milestone of journey.
It gives chances to clarify the direction of journey.
It sets free what should be said and what should be held back. Enjoy.
Space is a secondary supporting detail.
It doesn’t talk about the essence of journey.
It shows what’s been hoarded by a traveler.
It neglects what’s importance.
It helps slow down when break is needed
But at times it obscures the signs and messages. Beware!
Stay where you are, Beloved with no nerves
Knowing that space won’t corrupt you.
It is a lining of colours in different levels of degree that beautifies your existence.
Don’t quit, Beloved whichever the speed is
Knowing that time sharpens your perceptive.
It is what will be weighed and presented as a gift.
You see that, Beloved?
Oh, I know you’re tipsy!
A free verse about time and space between the Lover and the Beloved.
Bored to death! Thanks God it’s Monday tomorrow!
Singapore - Jan. 17, 2021 / 22:00
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