thoughts
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I pen my thoughts about picking up writing, continuing to write from a place of vulnerability, and what ramifications it might have for my work as a writer, as well as its impact on my loved ones and I. I also think about a path forward, although I cannot guarantee that I can take it.
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raise the curtains over this beehive / here is a magic trick / you have to wait for time to tell you the secret / but it’s noisy still / noisy still / noisy still / so much movement in so little space / is also a metaphor for my heart of hearts / there’s
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A root snaking into the wrist to find its way vining throughand around the spine like the snake on the staff of Hermesbut completely satiated and quite unlike its nature it doesnot feel like hunting today. There is a certain zone between the ground and space where no-one owns.Sometimes when I think about you I
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The last post was about Manuscript Bootcamp, a weekend-long workshop where we got to hunker down and work on our manuscripts with several industry professionals and literary figures. As part of the Bootcamp, we had a “Presentation of Works”, where we got to talk about our work and how it has changed after the bootcamp.
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So, over the last weekend I’ve attended Manuscript Bootcamp (see last post), an intensive 3-day programme where your manuscript gets absolutely slaughtered and picked clean by various people in the industry, from writers to editors and beyond. As mentioned, given that the programme comes only once every two years for poetry, and that only 6
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Back in Singapore! A quick note – I think I’ve decided to make blogging at least a bimonthly thing. It’s something to ground my anxieties, to chart my progress, to keep track of my thoughts. And after all it’s kind of therapeutic to just rant/blog once in a while. Not everything has to be a
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It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything (for this website, anyway), so I figured I might as well switch it up a little with some blogging. Finally got something accepted somewhere! I’ve gotten a piece in Food Republic, the first (to my knowledge, anyway) food-themed anthology in Singapore, as well as two fun
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Another year, another me. It’s a bit strange – I started this blog as a legitimate blog with some poems from time to time but over time it quickly became a place for me to publish pieces which I could not find homes for, or pieces I just wanted to let loose onto the world instead
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Our issues melt away and run, like dirty water into drainage pipes. Black fishes into estuaries. When we are out of each other’s sight, we’ll be out of our minds. Flushed away and forgotten. Invariably some scum stays: stains on a manhole. Is it disgusting? For me to wish thusly: I want to know everything. What are you
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a subject lost in beard of old white men. boy bastards, us three. three accidents. don’t you get it? I want to be unknowable as a truth. lose the leashed thread. here is a map. walk it; I blank the names, distance distance.
ugly stage 