It’s another long weekend, nobody’s online. I guess everyone’s hitting the books but I need a little downtime. Just a bit of time out after what I’ve been through these few days and nights. Suddenly “It’s Quiet Uptown” from Hamilton plays in my mind, this tiny earbug slowly humming a lullaby, and I have the urge to write.
It has been past the 100 day mark for our new government, and the hype over GE14 has died down. Two days ago on National Day, Tun M was quoted as saying that this is a second independence for us…but what do you think?
For the challenged, the struggling, and the ones who cannot rest… This is for you.
Do you find it annoying
When there’s a finger in your ribs
Jabbing and poking even though
There’s nothing left to rip
She is in stitches as she doubles up, hands caressing her aching sides. The bubbling concoction insides her overflows, shaking her up head to toe; her trembling knees grow weak, yet no one notices anything Continue reading “In stitches”
I haven’t been writing since February, I think, and as I type these few lines my finger joints creak from sparse use on the keyboard and from the stiff posture it maintains as a student’s hand, the right forever ready to curl back to caressing a non-existent pen, the left hand calloused from the fingering of steel strings. My mind is desperate, flying before I can unfurl my fledgling wings. I have to publish this today.
I’ll miss the old days
The dog days
The get up and talk and shout and laugh days
I’ll miss the fun days
The long days
The talking to them all day every day play days
I’ll miss the books upon sleepy heads
The secret snacks under tables and chairs
The chalked names and hearts pierced by arrowheads
The toilet breaks we went on in pairs
They work from sunrise till midnight
yet receive no pay
They go the furthermost distance
yet have no say
They yearn to change their fate
yet all they hear is nay
No rebukes no refuge all subdued
Continue reading “Irony”
The original, verbose version of Last Midnight.
The Gale’s Tale
I bade farewell to my sister as her tears fell
Couldn’t comfort her, didn’t tell
Preyed on by the whispers of the wind
They howled of storms of gales of metal birds clouding the sky
They wailed of shot of gunfire of cannonballs clouding the sky
I said hush, all hibiscus wilt someday
Be a virtuous wife
Take care to stay alive
Disclaimer/Trigger warning: This is a work of fiction based on true stories from those who witnessed the tragedy of May 13 1969. My sincere apologies if the perspective of this narrative is unfavorable to you, or has caused unwanted upset and sadness.
Paragraphs in quotation boxes are from true conversations with my teacher in the process of penning this piece.
Write a composition of about 350 words on the following topic:
Describe a disaster that you experienced.
Disaster? Are we all going to pen tsunamis and earthquakes?
It doesn’t have to be by hand of natural causes, but it has to be catastrophic, sky high body counts, losses amassed…
You want to see gore
You want to see tears pour
You want to see blood on our shores
I’ll let you have it.