Author: Valen

A member of Singapore-based writing collective /stop@BadEndRhymes ("/s@ber"), Valen dwells in the swamp of poetry. He has been published in various publications, including Anxious Poets Society, Eunoia Review and Quarterly Literary Review Singapore. He has performed his work at the Arts House, the Singapore Art Museum, and in various dingy bars.


An empty socket where wisdom should be, the aftertaste of blood coursing through the mouth. I don’t miss solidity, I miss concrete.I don’t miss foundations, I miss building.I don’t miss you, I miss all of you. My back is wound up like suspended in motion. So much kineticism waiting to be unleashed, like an overfull […]


Just a short reflection for the 50th exercise. It’s been a long 50 days since Day 1 . Where I just set out to write something ‘interesting’, it’s since become part of my daily practice as a writer. I set aside time to write every day – and even if these freewrites aren’t quite polished, […]


highway palette plank on plankto a distant star think of yellowdirt-runed dunes of carrot cakesand flowing in infinite hour-glasses off the side of a lonely planet some other side of thislonely galaxy what is the colourof your gratitude can you explainthe middle ground between greenand not-green and who knows what there is to do at […]


In every throat, an apple to be pared. The knives of our tongues are stillnot enough for this actof love making. Before the work is done, the sculpture is already waiting to be sold. As with the bark of treeswe mark that we lovewith something that can’t grow back. Everyroom is a cage of sky […]


Thoroughly wrung dry by this point I am out of anything interesting to say. I am reinventing meaning, less to makea statement but more to simply be. Be more of a person, and less of a poet, those wretched, godforsaken things. Wretches who write for the sake of Godwhile using their gods as placeholders. Place […]


Fear comes microscopic. A number on a page, two letters in a text. In the cells of our bodies there arewords waiting to never be said. Stress and fear are ways we reinterpret the fightor flight response againstthe desire of two outcomesto intersect on a line graph. Numbers, numbers, numbers,falling like rain on a house […]


a flat cap, a smushed shoe, the lawn cuttings left out orphaned and buzzcut bleeding steady, a brokendown car by the side of a cruise liner, a ship at the bottom of the sea,a cabin locked and floodingwith all of the world’s answers within it, like a child rubbing their stomach,a pot-bellied pig waiting to […]