singpowrimo
-
We are stamping each other to death in a furtive Cha-Cha. We will lock ourselves in birdcages but shout at those who sing. We eat our meals in a feedback loop and soon the man in the tasseled fez has taken our job. It’s ok because We Are Majulah; we are onwards we are progression…
-
Can we exist within and without each other? Is that what you seek to test? No, I am not dodging the question. I’m just skipping it for now – an exam technique. Solve what you can, come back later. No, that’s no metaphor for us. No, you won’t get points for fancy language. Frame it…
-
Formatting is weird on mobile, I’ll change this to text when I go home.
-
Love is that brute that killed Caesar, that unfaithful disciple, that Buddhist, Shi Ming Yi, caught for conspiracy: a liar, a cheat – human. (cont.) It is the counting of flower-petals, the Tinder chats, the Grindr photos: words spoken from one spouse to another and another other. Love: it is the sore lack of space…
-
The morning sun intrudes past the boundary of the curtain – even if I were to avoid it, it will still rise again, unlike you. I, too, become gradually unlike you: I don’t watch the television, I don’t go out on Friday nights. I don’t write poetry for fun anymore, amongst other trivial matters. It’s…
-
3 Notebooks 1. The world breaks everyone but some are strong at the broken places- like my father. He never took himself into account. Always watched and listened, but never forgot anything. Never losing to the rain, nor to the wind – such a person, I want to become. 2. “I want to live…
-
Months – many I have, remaining. They trickle through my fingers as shards, not sand. It fades: it commits itself to memories, it lingers. Surprise – the Singaporean man who, like the haze, comes again uninvited. He wades: against the current, grains in his pocket. Newsflash – I’m reaching the point where another fall is…
ugly stage 