We were the first and third person to the scene of the crime. This butchering of a language, the breaking of an unbroken word. We were the kamikaze pilots in the jets and the sailors on the ship: the single and the plural, the loop of has, has-not and has-been. Point is at least one of us owns a globe; if you spin it you’ll see that we are all over it. You’ll see that we are the people who cannot be contained within just a stanza; we at least demand for line breaks. Count us – we are the tassels on tossed mortarboards. We are the 70’s after independence. We are every racial riot, every smashed bottle. We are minimum, maximum, median, mean, mad. We are the rubber stamping in the law firm, the man rotting in confinement, the kopi stirring at the Kopitiam: we are Majulah. Look – in writing we are both Purple Heart and sunken Zero. Yet when we are finally weak and weary, we’ll sit down and write a poem; in doing this we hope to be renewed again, like a spark in the kindling.

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Latest version here: https://www.facebook.com/groups/singpowrimo/977471922368059/?comment_id=977614302353821&notif_t=like&notif_id=1460592784783129

PROMPT:

Write a poem in the first person plural, i.e. “we”, with a minimum word count of 70. Contain this poem to a single, unbroken stanza with no line breaks, using at least one of the following words: LOOP, PURPLE, GLOBE, TASSEL, STAMPING.
CHALLENGE: Use all five words.

KAMIKAZE CHALLENGE: “We Are Majulah”