January Light

"it was like being seen after perpetual darkness, after a lifetime of silence"

La fin

Apparently grinding and swallowing 2 cups of appleseeds with 204g of cyanide will not kill you.

Another sunrise brings about another day of scorch and wounds.

Another analogy of oppression is forcing one to have a life and threatening extermination with an afterlife.

And condemning those already void of one.

How the world claims that empathy doesn’t exist, as an excuse to push the weak deeper down the borehole and continue watching tv.

The end begins from the greatest concrete height, when help becomes hurt, when trust becomes abuse, when pain exceeds resources for coping with pain.

Au revoir, au revoir, au revoir,

but not till we meet again.

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Mum, Dad (i’m sorry)

Hello?

Mum, Dad?

I got lost in my sleep.
The man at the end of my dream told me to follow him.
He said he would let me go to school
and that he will pay for my food.
I can eat anything I want without washing toilets anymore.
The birds will come back again to sing.
He said that he will make me famous
and that if I sip whisky straight
I will be seen again.
The future will come to life, what we hoped and dared dream.
He has friends that he can give me
and they will care for me, never let me go lonely.

Mum, Dad

you will not need to worry about me anymore.

my chest is in pain for the fourth consecutive night. but tonight the sensation is overwhelming. it’s very difficult to breath and my arms feel like jelly. i desperately need a double arrowed button that says fast forward.

this poet hates words

what is a string of letters and spaces but letters and spaces:

imaginary meanings conceptualised in print?
okay but that is that
she is she just as
he is he

do you ever stare at my skin and wonder
if a unit of language is noise or illustration
and if either
whether hearing and seeing is the same as feeling

because this skin cannot feel anything within
when beings say
“I love You”
then wish You do as they wish
and speak as they speak
and sing as they sing
falling deaf as a heart fibrillates
and another virgin goes to waste

in another collection of used bodies

 

one can learn to treat oneself the way others treat them; 

a hotline when you need

a free resource station 

a dumping ground 

a statue to analyse 

a temporary companion 

one can also also lose oneself in human constructs; 

transport fees 

education fees

living expenses 

water bills

electricity bills 

rental 

car loans 

cotton decency 

one can also numb pain with innovation; 

wisps 

pills

syringes 

edges 

one is a lonely number in a billion world. 

From Chang’an by Wena Poon

Liu Yong:

In the tiny winding ways of the city’s pleasure quarters
Roam the queens of silk and brocade
Among the girls beckoning from balconies
I have eyes for only one—
My Little Bug

No painting can capture your poise
Nor flower represent your face

How many times have we gone drinking till dawn
Only to fall exhausted on warm pillows
And embroidered duvets drenched with scent
Two hearts in tandem—neither Heaven nor Earth
Ever saw a more splendid pair

But lately, madam, storms have driven us apart
I can no longer afford you
But still you agree to meet
For hurried trysts that left us desiring
When all we ever wanted to do was marry and grow old together!

Dry your tears. We have to bear what the heart cannot bear
I swear I will return to take you away from this life
And pen a proper ending to our years of love.

I dread this time of the year

Neglect is a feeling I have always known. To me it’s not a verb, it’s a noun.

It’s been with me since the beginning of toy trucks and barbie dolls. To when they disappeared, sold to the salvation army. Much like my spirit to all of you.

From the age of 10 I cried every year on my birthday. And just when I thought I had completely detached at a ripe age of 18, I received a string of “sorry I couldn’t make it” messages. Make what?? I’m not sure either. Probably as friends.

Good to know you’re being put on a pedestal of insignificance, a successful turn-off.