The play-smart mind told me “Find what’s the cause.”
The relaxed mind of me replied “Alamak… It’s just a metal.”
The play-pretty mind said “But it is now less pretty!”
The play-wise mind said “Small one. I’m just being careless. Ok!”
The greedy mind said “That’s a good reason to buy new ones!”
From behind the door, the naive one said “Why so noisy? It doesn’t kill.”
And the core is just smiling, not even opening its eyes.
When talking to one’s own self, one should be ready to feel like crazy inside because one will suddenly realise even within one there are this one and that one, each of whom is craving for attention and needing entertainment.
Get entertained instead and they’ll be the most attractive acrobatics!
This silence is so eloquent,
But still needs clarification.
What did you just say?
That love is blind?
That love is dumb?
That love is numb?
What did you just say,
Silence weeps bitterly.
Love is candid.
Love is painful.
Love is funny.
Love is simple
As simple as none....
Don’t trick me with words
The beauty of silence shouts more loudly than what you’ve uttered.
Bluff with verbs, not adjectives.
Walking hand in hand is more beautiful than telling me beautiful.
Not to be a grammarian, Beloved.
Use the grammar well.
Someday you’ll receive an unwritten book of love with which thousands of poems are softly breathed to survive this pain.
Do you mind whispering an address, Beloved?
This silence is dramatically eloquent but indeed much better than Korean drama.
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
Tears are millions of pairs of legs
That find their way to escape pain
And hide slowly by the heat of the day.
Will it be recognised?
Their journeys belong to this body
That grows old on a curve of age,
Born and died along one same line.
Will it be remembered?
Don’t be afraid to let the teardrops out
And release them with no doubt.
They won’t leave you for nothing.
They ship your baggage
That might be excessive if you carry them home at the same time.
Let the teardrops out
And celebrate them with no regret.
They will wait right in front of your home door.
They prepare a house warming for you,
They make your bed for you to rest.
They unpack all your luggage
That might tire you if you do it yourself at the same time.
Tears are millions of pairs of legs
That run to the ocean where you’ll unite with the Beloved
And never be lost again....
Cherish the tears!
A free verse from a heart that cries everywhere with no reason….
I never want to hurt myself, I just didn’t know who you are. I got hurt by a cactus in a desert Who pricks little fingers, Who just want to touch this life softly, Not hurting, not taking anything away.
Wounded, I decided to blame stupidity: Why did I have to have to have to have to have to just touch cacti? I should have left that arid land long before I touched a prickly spirit.
A delayed regret is less important than a lesson learned but it always gives a story the most significant pivot.
Now I’ll just admire from here From where I stand With millions of prayers For a secret journey. Yet I know you are a ghost days and nights.
Someday when I pour down the rain, You’ll know. Love is as sweet as water in drought— Maybe— If it is not late....