Their Tears

There has just been way too much going on with recent events, or maybe, I'm only just being made aware of more. From international terrorists to local authorities in certain parts of the world, it just makes me disheartened at how the globe as turned out.

This Christmas, I wish for world peace. I sincerely, wholeheartedly do.

Their Tears
I weep for the coughs I hear down the hall

I weep for the kiss I've learned not to miss

I weep for the crows and their merciless calls

I weep for the ignorance, probably not in bliss

I weep for the television, the radio, the news

I weep for the children, the arms, the mind

I weep for the emotional physical abuse

Are those bombs falling from the sky?

I weep for the cities crashing one by one

I weep for the world holding cattle of man

I weep for the seas glowing red with blood

I weep for the guy, laying, gasping for air

I weep for the boy sleeping on white dust

I weep for the girl blowing out red candles

I weep for the parent begging for burnt crust

Is there anything we can't handle?

And I weep for the sake of humane humanity

I wish for more compassionate mentality

I hope for nurturing loving maturity

I pray for the some sort of sound sensibility

So many years of ingenious evolution

So many years of quickened progress

Always on point with being efficient

Maybe it's time to start mourning before death.

Goodnight Grandma

Granny passed away on Wednesday, 4 November 2015. Today, Sunday, 8 November 2015, is her funeral; she was cremated. Living in her new home, we will celebrate her birthday tomorrow, 9 November 2015. On 10 November 2015, it will be the first (in a series of 7 weekly prayers) time we pray for her to cross over to the light.

Goodnight Grandma
Goodnight Grandmama; sleep tight tonight.
Let your dreams take you away.
Let them take you to a far away land with
clouds beneath your feet. Yes, your feet Mama,
your feet! Throw that wheelchair away, you need
it not. Not then, not ever.
There will be no more suffering and no more pain.
You are being upgraded;
your voice more melodious, your nose sharper,
your bones stronger than your stubbornness,
your mind quicker.
But your eyes will stay the same. Those hazels
exude such warmth and wisdom, they have reached
the epitome of perfection.

I miss you Grandmama.

I miss you Grandmama. Rest your precious heart.
Your amazing heart, filled with love, was never
once too full. Every rhythm had a purpose;
you embrace the world on every thump.
Kindness and empathy always by your side
as you touch the lives of the babies and the grandkids,
the girls and the boys, the women and the men,
the father and the mothers, the friends and of course,
the husband. I wonder if it had ever beaten just for you.

They told me your heart had a condition, Grandma.
They told me it was what brought you to sleep.
I think it was just weighed down by the gold it holds within.
You carried so many of us in there, it's incredible
how big it is.

I love you Grandmama.

I love you, Grandmama, I love you! Do you hear
our cries, Grandmama? Grandmama, I am screaming
up to you! Can you hear me? Grandmama!

I love you.

I miss you.

I want you.

Why did you leave?

Goodnight Grandma; I'm going to bed too.
It's still early so I'll send up a prayer, wishing
my dreams will take me away to a far off land
with my head in the clouds.

And through my pillow, I shall meet
the memories of you and learn to beat
the tempo of compassion and song d'amour,
the dance of affection and how to grow room for more.

Butterfly

Wrote this a few days back but was too tired to put it up.

Butterfly
Please pause. Freeze pane. Let me take another breath in again.
You were, right here, right there. I can't remember your name.
You are the blue shirt on the crowded bus,
each person pushing me toward the memory of us.
You are the music buzzing in my ear,
every beat touching me, holding me down.
You are the cool breeze on a hot sunny day-
surprising and fleeting, a phantom lingering fay.
In my arms, I caught you, I held you. Only to open up feeling our sheer dismay.

I'm In Love With You

I'm In Love With You
I see your smile on the boy next to me.
Your eyes glitter across the hall.
Your lips on mine when my head's asleep.
Your gentle touch catching me as I fall.
My heart runs free through the park at day.
My love, the chain, around my neck.
My memories dances with the said, unsaid.
You hold power to change smiles to tears and back.
What am I to do,
when I'm still in love,
with the one I've grown apart?
What can I do,
when I'm deeply in love,
with the one who broke my heart?

Update on life

Sorry for the lack of activity recently; I have been travelling quite abit. So today I thought I'd just pen my thoughts on the past two trips I've been on and also the horrid horrid dental appointment I had yesterday.

Let's start with the pain at the back of my head. Wisdom teeth extraction is brutal! Honestly, I cried the entire procedure. I can't even tell why. I wasn't in pain but I guess the fear was too overwhelming. After the procedure, I just wanted to curl into a ball and cry (which was what I did). The dentist was freaked out. hahaha. I didn't regret doing it but I guess the numbness in my lower jaw and the lack of ability to control what I presumed was a right to do so scared the shit out of me.

But I'm feeling alot better today. The bloody gauze do not look as menacing as before even though the bright green mouthwash still do. At least they are out. One week of soft foods and I'm back to normal again. Can't wait.

Australia Grad Trip #2: 15-31 August 2015
Do not ask why I didn't post this earlier because I have no good excuse. Laziness is probably a factor.

I'd like to break this trip up in to 4 parts: (1) Caversham Wildlife Park (2) Farm Stay (3) Esperance Tour and (4) Exmouth Tour.

(1) Caversham Wildlife Park
One of the most amazing experience ever. This part was the only one that we planned ourselves because I was basically done with planning trips. It was so amazing because the animals were so tamed and they are just so lovely. We could touch them and feed them and had just an amazing time there.

(2) Farm Stay
This was the first tour we had with Aussie Perth Tours. We met our driver Graham who was just a darling! Requested for him for our next tour. The farm stay was great! After our night at Wombats Backpackers, the farm stay suite made me feel like Cinderella. We got to feed the animals and pet them as well (as you can see, I am a sucker for animals). We even got to hold some of them. We rode the tractor by ourselves with hysterical screaming because it jerks when you change the gear. It was a good change from the city and a lovely experience. The barbecue dinner might have helped quite a bit as well.

(3) Esperance Tour
On this tour, it was more about seeing nature on land and agriculture. By that, I meant the forests, the rocks, the wineries and the farms. The forests and rocks were breathtaking because they were so gigantic. There was something about feel so small yet so filled with potential of being powerful there. Of course the walks also gave amazing views but what topped everything was the climb of the Centennial tree. To get to the top, we had to climb god knows how many spikes hammered into the side of the tree. To be honest, it is as safe as it sounds here (it was not safe), but the view made everything worth it (if you survive). The wineries are good though we did not spend a lot of time there. Bought a few bottles back that diminishes faster than I'd care to admit.

The best part of the tour was how personal it was. I was really glad to have met Graham. He shared with us about his life (he is one bad ass dude - ex-military, ex-racecar driver) and believes and thoughts about the Australian system. I believe it is part of the experience to get to know the locals. He also introduced his friend, Tony, to us. Just as you thought no one could ever be this sarcastic, you have Tony. Tony still races, which is super cool since he is about to be 70 years of age. Between the boys and us girls, we ate the entire leg of pork which Tony intended to feed us for 2 meals. We are fat.

What was not so good was the fact that we also learnt more about our agent (Aussie Perth). Their business is borderline unethical in terms of the way they treat their staff (they underpaid Graham nearly $400 below market rate) and their tours are vastly overpriced for the amount of limitations they placed on our expenditure. When I holiday, I want to eat what I want and not have a $6 imposition on the meals that I have supposedly already paid for.

(4) Exmouth Tour

This last part of the tour we booked through Aussie Perth as well although they outsourced it to Red Earth Safaris. We were charged $1020 for a $785 tour before getting a refund of $157 after we sent in a complaint. Their itinerary was also greatly outdated.

But let's focus on the good. The tour was amazing despite all our grievances above. The trip was all about sand and water where we hit the beaches again and again. The best part was the snorkeling. We say manta rays and stingrays and turtles and fishes and corals and sharks and clams! It was simply amazing! The tan lines I got, on the other hand, was too much sexy than I've bargained for. Food on this trip was basically cooked by our guide and he is a great cook! Enjoyed this thoroughly!

Vietnam Grad Trip #3: 11-15 September 2015
I have to say, I really enjoy travelling. Went to Hanoi, Lao Cai and Sapa this time round although we spent most of the time in Sapa. It is really different especially since I was travelling with family (dad and aunts). It was a lot more focus on relaxing rather than hands on.

Day 1 - Travel: We took the night train to LaoCai from Hanoi before taking the bus up to Sapa. The night in the train was the worst. Seeing that I was the youngest, it was natural that I'd sleep at the top bunk with the small ass railing that was screaming at me to fall every time I decided to turn. At least I managed to catch some sleep on the bus before having a nice refreshing morning shower in Sapa.

Day 2 - Sapa: The mountains were a breath of fresh air (see what I did there?) and an amazing host of serenity. The home stay was first and I really enjoyed it. The supposed plan was to trek the 14km from the hotel to the village but it rained so heavily, the floods would not let. In the end, the bus drove us up as far as it could and we trekked the remaining 3km (I think) in the rain. Most tiring 3km ever. 3 kilometers may seem like such a short distance and I was pretty sure I would do fine with 14km but the hills were unforgiving. Everyone was panting and we had to stop quite a few times to ensure all were doing alright. It got so bad my aunt had to look for her breathalyzer. Thin air and the multitude of slopes do not go together well. However, we were rewarded with the most amazing fries I've ever had. Garlic, butter and a bit of secret seasoning was the bomb. My hands could not get off them. Everything was minimalist so you can imagine the confusion of how such a rural kitchen could whip up something so amazing. At night, we had a herbal bath that was so good but a little too much for my older companions. It made all of us sleep like babies though. Recharged for the next day.

Day 3 - LaoCai: We went to the BacHa market today. It was a little overwhelming for me. Though it was huge, the tourists and locals combined took up much of the floor space while the animals and merchandise (I guess you can lump them as one category in this case) took the rest. Buffaloes, horses, birds, pigs, dogs, cats and chickens were all sold as food, pets and helpers - some were raw, some cooked, some live. It was eye-opening but uncomfortable at the same time. Went through the market once in 45 minutes and I could not bring myself to go through it again despite having the time. Camped out at a "touristy" cafe and ate some not-so-amazing food. At least my father learnt how to differentiate a good buffalo from a bad one. If he were to marry me off here, he could get himself 5 buffaloes in return. Depending on my "market value", he could earn up to 60k. What would my mum say?

After a relaxing boat ride to calm my nerves, we actually went to visit my guide's house. His wife is an educator and we managed to see all the little kids learning English in a room. She sure did make use of us. I was tasked with teaching the kids the numbers 11-20 and also correcting some of the phrases she wanted to put up on the walls as decor. The kids are adorable!

Day 4 - Sapa: Back in Sapa to buy our souvenirs and visit the Cat Cat Village. The sheer name of it scared my aunt because she has a phobia of cats. To my dismay (as a filial niece), the village has no cats at all. What it did have was amazing views. The walk down and up was brutal though with 800 steps each way. Luckily, we had our motivations. At the bottom of the village was a traditional performance waiting for us and at the top was traditional wine. I'm glad none of us gave up halfway to take the motorbike taxi up. At the village, we got to try their sticky rice and buffalo meat. Surprisingly, it tasted really good! The buffalo was spicy though up the sticky rice helped to reduce the pain in my mouth.

The bus ride down from Sapa made be nauseous. Luckily, we had a breather before taking the night train back to Hanoi. This time I slept much better. I think tiring ourselves out with the trek helped a lot.

Day 5 - Hanoi: Back in Hanoi, we had to wait for 2 hours before our pick up would come to bring us to the airport. Camped at the NewMoon hotel while waiting then had this most amazing street side noodles/Pho. Best meal since.

I guess, my Vietnam trip was not how I pictured it but I enjoyed it nonetheless. I managed to experience new things while bonding with my dad and my aunts, and that was lovely. But I'm glad to be home (except for the ache in my mouth). Depending on how fast I recover, I might just travel again before my work starts on the 29th!

Naked Moment

Naked Moment
His face so familiar; so estranged.
Our stare intent. His eyes, brown from the memory
of my lips, were blue and black and blank all at once.
His confusion hits me only by recollection.
My gaze transcending; I couldn't tell if he
had beard or had nose or had mouth. But he sure did lose
his voice.

I cannot recall my look I gave but muscles remember
concoction of betrayal, shame and pride through the glasses.
The face of intense silence as the endorphin continue
dusting tickling magic throughout my body. I hope he
didn't look down.
My bare bottom couldn't have handled anything more.

Lay Me Down

Love Exchange

Tonight, I'm heading to the airport for my second grad trip in Australia. Since I'm leaving (and since I actually managed to wake up as the sun did), I decided to join my grandfather on his morning coffee stroll. His face immediately lit up when I proposed to join him. He smiled so big.

As I got myself ready to go out, my grandfather told me to stay in and spend time with my grandmother (now bedridden) instead so she wouldn't be so bored. When he proposed this, his face lit up even more. I still think it's amazing how two people can still show so much affection for each other after so many years.

Right before my grandfather left, he shouted to his wife "Hey, I'm leaving now. Agnes is here with you! Be good! I'll bring back your favorite biscuits from the market. I'll be back shortly!" She replied, "Did you bring enough money?" This short exchange is so filled with love, I can't even.

Love Exchange

"Dear grandfather,
shall I go to the market with you today?"

"Lovely child,

why don't you stay home with grandma instead?

I can go there by my lonesome;

my legs work fine."

"Wear a hat for the sun,

sweet husband of mine."

Little Things

Wrote this with feelings of nostalgia cause this was one of the songs i loved for him to sing to me. He probably didn't understand how much the words resonated with me and how much I wanted to hear those words from his mouth. So, this arrangement has hints of hope as well as sadness.




On another note, I'm really trying to improve with every new arrangement. If you have any feedback, feel free to comment. All constructive feedback is appreciated!

Shake it out, Skyscraper, Stay with me

Another new mashup: Shake it out, Skyscraper, Stay with me!
Chose the three songs because it represents the internal struggle of one's heart and mind.

The Way He Sees

Today's poem is inspired by my paternal grandfather who right now has cancer. Because of his old age, he is not going for chemo. It pains my heart to see him getting more frail each day. I admire his attraction to the world outside despite all. He goes out every morning to see the world and sip his usual cup of coffee. Today, he told my maid that he was really really happy because I sat with him to have dinner together. I don't think words can really reflect how I am feeling right now.

The Way He Sees
He sees the world every day.
He gets out of his bed into his chair and out to his world.
I swear I was prettier than that little missy pushing him around.
He waves at me.
For years his eyes has never changed. The same wave as
he steps through the same threshold. When he left for work,
when he left for our freedom, when he left for the grocery,
it was in different outfits, different legs and different faces but
he has always looked at me the same way and never leaves
without his signature smirk.

Life used to be crystal clear, then a blur, then grey with the cataract sky.

I remember the bus stop we first met.
I remember the rice fields we splashed our way through.
I remember the tree we first held hands.
I remember the kiss, so brazen, at the hidden corner of my father's warehouse.

Permission. Arrangement. Engagement. Marriage.
He bore me children of seven. Seven bundles of smelly diapers,
raging tantrums, disobedient students, anxious candidates,
proud graduates, driven businessmen and grandchildren.

Today the smirk has gone old.
The concrete ceiling, I see myself in, cries in the rhythm of my
youthful pacemaker. He has been through family gatherings and world
wars with my cheers ringing in his ear; each time reigning undefeated.
Who would have known that the boy who once held my world in his
hands would be beaten by a tiny cell?

From my own prison, I can see the cancer wear him down
day by day; his clock delaying one more second every sunrise.
At least he gets to see our world eachvery day. My eyes feel his
every wave and my heart replays that entrancing smirk.

The Man Who Can't Be Moved

Arranged another song! Rhythm of the melody needs some work still. Shall work on it further.

Rather depressed

Rather depressing lately. Why. 

Missing friend

It has been weird between 2 friends (a couple) and me now. Or at least, I'm the only one feeling weird. Actually, the word "weird" may not cut it. It is more of feeling left out. To be fair... nevermind. Long story short, I would rather not spend time with the both of them when they are together because something makes me inherently feel like I'm the third wheel taking away his time with her.

What the above really suck is that she is leaving today and I don't get to send her off. Left moping around in my own room as I look at the time to see when she has gone on the plane (when I started composing this post is the exact time). Not sending her off really was because of a few reasons, the biggest one being that my conjunctivitis is back again and the next biggy was that I didn't want to take time away from her family and him.

It weird when a close friend leaves. Idk. I know I'm going to see her again but idk... Still sucks to know that a pillar of support is not physically reachable. It's weird cause I haven't been meeting her or asking about her for the past week because basically I was avoiding the fact that she is really leaving. When I finally met her yesterday night, I wanted it to be about her but I was feeling vulnerable (see prev post) and needed my pillar. Had to skip out half way of being a mess cause he felt shitty he wasn't getting his time with her.

Oh well... Back to other stuff.

Little Soul

Met up with friends yesterday and we were having quite a bit of fun until someone decides to make it serious. He suggested we went round the table and tell each other what we felt about each other. This was when I realised that I didn't say a bad thing about anyone. For those I am not close enough with, I felt I didn't know the person well enough to say anything bad. For those I am, I didn't feel that there was anything bad to say. I was puzzled at first but I found out why. Yes, everyone definitely have bad traits that annoy the shit out of their friends but I am selective. If I still choose you as my friend, it shows that I accept all your flaws. When I say accept, I mean the flaw is made so insignificant versus all the other traits I hold dear that it is just a part of who you are and even that part makes you special.

As we were going round the table, one of my friends was telling another about this bit that irritates him and others. He was being awfully blunt about it. It sucks that everyone was chiming in as well and I was soooooooo uncomfortable about it. There were many times I wanted to step in and say "yes yes, he knows already, there is no need for you guys to keep repeating it" but he seems to nod and agree and that made it hard for me to step in. Honestly, I didnt even think it was such a big deal. It is just what makes him him and if I continue my friendship with him, I work with that.

What made me even more uncomfortable was that the blunt friend then said, "oh it's Agnes's turn. I also have a lot to say about Agnes." It was as if what I was listening was my impending doom. I was the last at the table so I decided to take it like a strong independent woman. Old wounds were torn again and I don't understand why I let others tear me down like that. I think if I was confident enough about myself, I would not see what ever they say to make sense but to see that it was me and what makes me me. But alas.. It was made even harder to reject the notions with the friend saying that he will only be blunt to the friends he choose to keep. I don't know..

He is an amazing friend but I do not need this negativity in my life. I knew he was blunt but this is a small trade for his personality and companionship. Acceptance is huge with me.

I am my biggest critique. I do not need an external stimulus to show me what I already know. He may be close to everyone at that table but I was not and I was not comfortable at all with what was said, and how it was said, and where it was said, and to whom it was said in front of. This applies not only to me but everyone else.

I cried last night

Little Soul

We met yesterday as any other day, before dawn,

after dusk. You looked as how old would appear

in fatigue's silhouette. Scabs ripped and wounds

reopened by the fangs of another, permitted

to penetrate by your heart. I try my hand at the

bad sewing and offered five doses of a dozen sheep,

every one soaking up the congenial shame you bleed.

One, the words rerun.

Two, the cruel time spools.

Three, the flashbacks breathe.

Four, the story recalls.

Five, your jaded spirit dives
into every memory and with every memory, the
hallucinations come back with a new found volume of

sacrilegious vengeance.

Soon, what that did not once cause a tear will create

the downpour that drowns even the most defensive cactus.

Six minutes in and the girl who learned

to build her fortress of smiles is now the

same one cowering under the blanket.

Even teddy broke a sigh.

You, the luckless shattered soul, have no onus

to hear the cries I screech silent in my head.

Hush now, you are as young as I remembered;

as I pictured; as I find; as I think; as I dream.

You are as innocent as prison calls, as charming

as stars' glow at death. Hush now.

You know, the grand empires you conceive shall never truly

be safe and the majestic castles you raise shall never truly

protect when you are only hesitant to countenance
the entry of the unmelodious serpents.

Digging through

Digging through old stuff on my phone to clear out memory and I found two passages I've wrote but they were never posted due to bad timing and circumstances. The times have passed so why not post it now?  However, just reading them makes me feel uncomfortable so I shan't elaborate on what they mean or represent.

Jealous Man
The greenness. It struck like lightning into the pupil of your eye and hit a nerve.

The Queevil
She reached out her hand, snapped her wrist down and they fell with her on their knees. She twisted her palm and their bodies followed suit. Bones crack on every silent scream.

You could hear the innocent droplets of water drip from the ceiling into hell. The room flushed with red glory.

Those faces of anguish. Her rotting grin. They bloomed so concurrently that it was like an evil sadistic bond was crushing them together.

Thinking Out Loud

Another new composition: Thinking Out Loud.
I have been wanting to do this song before exams started but was only free enough now. It is still kind of rocky and disjointed so I may make a few more changes before the final version!

Back from grad trip #1

I'm back from holiday! UK and Ireland has been fun! I am so jet lagged right now.. I can't sleep at night and I scream at my alarm clock in the morning. I've nvr been so pissed off at my phone before. haha.

Apart from the two interesting people I've met, I've come to conclude that Irish people are really really friendly.. And also rather drunk. People have come up to me and the probability that I smell some booze on them is way toooo high, hhahaha. One other interesting thing I got to do was to present the gifts during one of the masses I went for. I still do not know why they chose me to do it, especially since I told them I was not catholic. But I'm glad a got a chance to experience bringing the bowl communion hosts to the priest. The lady had to explain what I had to do exactly and I was peeking at Pam (who was beside me presenting the chalice with the wine) the whole time so I wouldn't screw up.

London was amazing as well. I watched two musicals - Memphis and The Book of Mormon. I got a really good seat for Memphis. We were so close to the stage, I got to see the actor's facial expressions. The Book of Mormon was really really funny. It was as funny as it was sacrilegious. Oh yes, I need to tell you about my failures.

Failure #1: We went for a show on Friday when we book the tickets for Saturday. I don't know what overcame us to all think we booked it for Friday. We went there, presented our tickets and actually managed to go all the way to "our" seats. If not for the fact that there were people in "our" seats, we wouldn't have known of the mistake. But no harm done, we had an amazing Saturday instead.

Failure #2: I booked our flight for the wrong date. This is an amazing story. I booked the flight for 17/6, 8pm although we were supposed to fly on 18/6, same time. At 17/6, 8.45pm, the airline sent me an email, which I got while lazing in my hostel, that the flight was cancelled. I would not have known that I booked it for the wrong date if not for the cancellation email. And because they cancelled the flight, we were given a free change of flight or a refund. Of course I took the chance to book another flight on 18/7. This is not the end. We went to the airport on 18/7 and the flight got delayed for 4 hours. So Pam and I were waiting at the airport for nearly 7 hours. Because the flight was delayed, we were given compensation of  £11.50 in terms of refreshment and €250 monetary compensation! They basically paid us for our flight and more. Best mistake yet.

Failure #3: I may have gone overboard with the shopping. I don't think my parents know about this yet. This is definitely one of the most expensive trips I've taken so far by myself. We ate like queens almost everyday. On the days we feel guilty, we ate like..... well we ate like how I'd would like my convenience to be - cup noodles, canned soups and instant macaroni.

Failure #4: I apparently look wayyyy tooo young. There was not a time I didn't have to present an identification card when buying alcohol over the counter. Also, I got the kiddy "bye bye" with the half squat and incessant waving when exiting the airplane while everyone else got the standard "thank you" and "goodbye". Funnily enough though, what this holiday helps to sink in more, now that it has ended, is the fact that I truly have graduated! Travelling with my mates from choir from the past 3 years has just been amazing.

Talking about the choir, we won! How about that? It is just mind blowing! When the results were released, I cried like the ugliest baby you know. Thank god I didn't have any eye makeup on. It feel so good to see us reap our hardwork like that. That moment was worth all those tears and frustration. We did good! Wait.... No.... We did best!

Congratulations
I can hear the glitter.
Do you hear the glitter?
Gold yet transparent, it's in the air.
I can breathe it on every strand of my body.
It's under my skin. I stand on it.
It cheers.

My mouth gaping, teeth rejoice.
The furrow suspicious but the eyes hopeful.
The tears drown,
The feet fly.
I'm above ground.

My heart stops; the crowd beats for me.
Arms shaking, flailing, squeezing, raising.
The noise silent.
The time replays and rewinds.
Cameras obsolete.
Spit confetti.

Do you hear the glitter?
It was from my soul.
I left it on the stage, now it's in the air.
Tears of the infected; it's under their skin.
I bask in it, I sob in it, I cry for it.
I hear it cheer.

UK Trip is almost over!

My UK trip is almost over. I miss home as much as I know I'll miss traveling. I'll update more about my month long travel when I get back. Now, I just want to touch on two people whom I've met today. 

One of them is a South African. He came over to sit next to me on the bus because Pam was dead asleep on the other seat. He was really friendly and seemed genuine so I nodded to sign that I don't mind him taking the seat next to me (the bus was rather crowded). He initiated to chat and I obliged. He was very open to sharing and told me about his plans for the future. He told me he was going to school while working part-time. He told me about his family who were scattered everywhere. Some of what he said didn't really made sense but I attribute it to his poor English and my lack of ability to clearly understand his accent. He even told me about the harsh reality back in Uganda. One thing hit me hard though. He said his father had passed about 2 years ago. His father was a doctor. "Number one in the country," he said. But people were afraid of men with knowledge and so while his father was in his car, (at this point, he used his hand to mimick a gun and then fired twice towards my chest) "BANG BANG!" I sank into my seat in phantom fear and sadness as I said, "I'm sorry to hear". 

The next person is an old Irish man. He was clearly drunk out of his mind. But he seemed harmless. We bumped into him while we were on our way. Then, he just said some stuff that made Pam laugh. I was obviously horrible at making sense of the Irish accent so I was just smiling and nodding my way through that. What I did understand was that he told us he just wanted to see us smile. That was heartwarming. And just when you didn't think he could be sweeter, he told us that as young people, we don't have to pay taxes. He told us to enjoy life because everything is tax free. "No taxes for the sunshine, no taxes for the air and no taxes for the rain." He also admitted that he had been drinking and continued to share that his wife had passed. We offered our condolences. He also told us his daughter had just passed and he was going to bury her tomorrow. That hit me right in the gut. 

I have to admit that there are certain aspects of the encounters that made me question if the stories were actually true. But I'd rather give them the benefit of the doubt. I believe there is something to take away from. I see incredible courage in both these men and I'm glad I got to come across them on my journey. 

Limerick Holiday

Limerick Holiday
Agnes and Pam on holiday
Through the streets we shout with gay,
"Goodbye Dublin;
You've been supreme,
But Limerick city, we're on our way!"

Death Be With You

So, this morning, my dad woke us up, accidentally, and told us that my waigong (maternal grandfather) just passed. I was in such a shock, I don't think it has quite sunk in yet. I just saw him yesterday and he was breathing and talking and eating. He was frail, but he was, in a sense, normal. My dad said he died of old age, which was the best way to go because it was peaceful. I guess I can take comfort in that.

I am supposed to fly today for a choir competition, which means I would miss the coming days of the wake. I did tell my parents I could deviate from the group and fly 2 days later but my dad does not feel safe with me travelling on my own. I guess I'm leaving tonight.

I guess I can also find comfort that I managed to see him for the last time when he was still alive. I really need to thank my mum for pushing me to visit him yesterday. I think I also have to thank God for planning things this way. I get to see him one last time when he still breathe and one more time when he has passed before my flight.

I still recall that as I looked at him ytd, I was remembering how he used to be so much fitter. Both my grandpas could never stay too still. They were always up and about; all over the country. Now, he was bedridden and wayyyyy thinner. I used to hug him and gave air kisses when we were younger. Yesterday, I was too afraid I might hurt him.

Dear Waigong, I wish you all the best in the afterlife. I love you.

Death Be With You
You with the lovely eyes,
why don't you open them and see?
Open them and watch the world.
Look at my face. You created me
and then molded my person.
Hold my hand, Papa!
Look at me. Look at your son
that longs your smile.

Why are you colder than ever?
Do you need a blanket? I'll grab one for you.
Speak to me. Where are the words
of the lips that taught me two plus two?
Breathe in the air, Papa,
It's easy, like this.
Please breathe, Papa.
Here, have true love's kiss.

Tell me you're not gone, dear father.
Tell me you've just gone to bed.
Tell me you'll sit up at anytime.
Tell me, Papa. Tell me you're not only dead.
Sing me tunes of robins and larks,
Paint me pictures of sky and soil,
Teach me lessons of strength and life.
Fill me with kisses of sadness and joy.

I think I understand how this works;
what happens when one dies.
The Son calls out and you must go
but why won't you come when this son cries?
I look around and I do see,
pieces of you surrounding me.
You're not only dead, my kind daddy;
you burn in the hearts of everybody.

Cluck Cluck Cluck!

30 day writing challenge

Topic: Cluck (day 30)

It's the final day of the 30 day writing challenge! I can't believe I lasted all the way. There has been many days that I've considered taking a break because the poetry was sucking the life out of me, being all emotional and all. But I'm glad I persevered (even though, as you can see, the last few poems gradually got shorter and had less depth. Brain getting fried..)

Today's theme is cluck and since it was such an insane topic, I decided early on to write about something I was really interested in - genetic modification. However, it happened to only appear on the last day, which coincidentally is my last day in Singapore before I embark on my month-long holiday in Europe again! So, for the entire day, all I could think of was what I was going to do in the EU. Hence, this entry is about me, being born in the year of the rooster, getting excited to travel!

Cluck Cluck Cluck!

Born fourteen December nine-three,

the year of the rooster for me.

Excited, I am,

To fly with friends.

Can’t wait for great sights to see!

The Soldier

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Acne (day 29)
Read up and watched some videos of soldiers coming home and reuniting with their family. It touches my heart.

The Soldier

He is amazing. His eyes gleam as he breathes my breaths.

The work he does can be seen on his face.

Each pearly breakout stems from the hardships

he faces for us, for my family. Each scar,

a memento of a battle with himself; stuck between

presence and protection of the ones he loves.

The dirt and grime of the forests he crawls and eats

and sleeps does not compare to the fondness of

her heart back home. Neither injuries nor hurt can compare

with the lost cheers of the boy’s first goal or the absence

of the small one’s first words.

The badges and awards tells of the tough decisions

made in the field but the white gold he proudly bears on

his face reads the hardest one yet.

He is Man. Strong. Resilient. Admired. Protector.

Almost impenetrable but the dots on that smile of re-unity,

they are the gateway to his soul.

Shoe Defense

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Shoes (day 28)
Everyone needs a protector regardless how strong they may appear to be. Everyone has their vulnerable side.

Shoe Defense

The total of bones from the head to the toes

is two hundred and six at twenty.

The place with the most number of those

is the feet, 26 on each.

They say bones give you structure, the hardest part of you,

they withstand the success ladder climb.

They hold you up when you’re happy or blue,

but even the strongest need protection sometimes.

Changes Everyday

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Today (day 27)

Changes Everyday
One foot out and it's a new world.
The green of greens differ from recollections.
The air sandy, the ground humid, birds
sing hymns of rebirth.
The sun on your face pierces through you
again but never the same way.
The people hustle through the paths, the squirrels
nuts, lazy cat purrs.
Routines, but not constants today.

Weaknesses

30 day writing challenge

Topic: Weakness (day 26)

I guess I don't really have the right to be mad at you. So I should be sorry I lashed out. You were only trying to help in a way you know how. I guess I just was not open to tough love. I needed someone to tell me I was going to be okay. And that feeling like this was normal. Not many people I know go through what I am doing to myself mentally. I know at least you have and I guess I was trying to clasp on to some sort of comfort in that. But you did not gift what I hoped to receive and I cannot fault you for my own expectations despite my plummeting emotions. You went for practicality and reason. But I already have that and needed assurance. Reasoning what I already know makes me feel more useless for not doing something about it. The way you treated me was how I treat myself and, now that I think about it, how you probably treat yourself. It's a shame that I cannot accept my own cruelty. 

Signing off, Useless

Weaknesses

So much power yet

if you think it hard enough

so little control. 

The Smell of Her Locks

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Hair (day 25)

The Smell of Her Locks

I brush her gold luscious locks and dry them

roughly with the towel. As my fingers run

through her silk, I get whiffs of the shampoo

she uses. Rose has always been my

favorite flower.

I carefully pull her fringe back behind those

dainty ears and twirl the ends of it between

my pulsing thumb and long index before setting

them down nicely at the side of her face.

Her lips still wet from her shower.

“Make sure my hair is neat for my guest.” Don’t

worry Missy, my hands know how to make you

glow. I braid her mane into two rows, intertwining

her threads tightly. A little pain is interesting. She

may command me, but I hold the power.

In an hour’s time, she will stand naked in front

of the banker’s son and he shall see the glorious

curls I am so familiar with. From the other room,

I will tear into those blond screams with

savage hunger. Just one more hour.

Pink Is The New Black

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Pink (day 24)
Really frustrated with myself. I need a breakthrough.

Pink Is The New Black
Pink is the saltiness in my eye.
Pink is the shivers down my spine.
Pink is the tension in my shoulder.
Pink is the fingers going colder.
Pink is the anger in my fists.
Pink is the lines on my wrists.
Pink is the blood on my hand.
Pink is the betrayal of men.
Pink is the hate in my heart.
Pink is my soul torn apart.
Pink is the vacant broken shells.
Pink's for the fallen in hell.

Tug of War

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Strings (day 23)
Read another article about the persecution of Muslims in Burma. I didn't think that there was so much hatred in this world until you start documenting down all that you've read. It is ridiculous the number of persecutions in various parts of the world. This poem is for the persecuted Muslims in Burma.

Tug of War

She hangs by her neck like the majestic colored

flag of her country. The sons beside her,

nine and five, upright and dead.

From afar, you can barely see her.

Against the brick red wall, she is but a speck of taint.

Should you go up close, she will tug on your heart strings.

The yellow floral dress brings you back to the

one you passed in the store. The lipstick used to

mask her pale kissables are the same shade as the one

in your purse. You see the resemblance.

She is as mother, as daughter, as friend, and as woman as you are,

but where you have pearls, she has rope.

You can see the bitter-sweet in her lifeless face,

the sadness endured of losing her boys accompanied

by their prompt reconciliation in the next cruel world.

In a short while, the birds will feast in celebration.

Then, she shall soar with them into the sun.

Sanctuary

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Rooms (day 22)
Watched a video about people playing with kittens in a glass box in public. One of the most stress-free things to do. Also, I find it funny how people used to make rooms to hide from turmoil but now hide in their rooms to get away from interaction. Rooms are now our safe space, like how boxes are to cats. Humans are weird.

Sanctuary
Quiet. Not a sound.
Run to the other box in that box in the flat.
Feel the tension seeping around.
Choose to actually live in that.
Enjoy the freedom from the societal town.

We must be cats.

Two Minds Rhyme Better Than One. Or Not.

A poem by my German friend, Judith, and I.

Two Minds Rhyme Better Than One. Or Not.

Streets sparkling in the sun

My sweat dripping as I quietly run

Thinking.. How is this ever fun?

Paused and decided, "Okay, I'm done!"

By Judith Siegmund & Agnes Lee

20/5/2015 & 21/5/2015 (depending on the timezone)

Forgiving Yourself

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Forgiveness (day 21)
Cause inspiration decided to come to me in buckets of tears. Forgiveness is not a glorified holy thing. Forgiveness is going through the mud and getting your hands dirty. Forgiveness is a choice to face the situation and more so, yourself.

Forgiving Yourself
You drown that voice out with white noise.

Pay close attention to the lady in the talk show

or the fat guy dancing. Beer in hand in belly in mind.

Do whatever it takes to drown her!

You fight her like a rebel in an uprising. You speak

speeches of battles and sing songs of war.

Don’t you know most revolutions are snuffed?

Let’s not get too ambitious, she mocks.

Listen to the silence around you. Hear how they scream.

The crickets rubbing their palms in evil laughter, the

frogs croaking for help. Hear the disapproval of the

lake as the light breeze disturbs its peace.

Hear the symphony of nature – the seamless blend

of untainted voices. Pure tones that work in

perfect dissonance. Their lyrics touch your heart

as they touch your skin.

She smiles loudest.

Look at yourself in the mirror. You witness her

critiques through your eyes. Your mouth shaped

wrong and your music’s fogging up the audience.

Do you see the conviction she has?

The conviction to succeed is the same one that

sees you as a non-entity because she does not recognize
failures. If the just world does not acknowledge

the tears on your pillows, Why should I?

You have to believe in salvation; the past should not

define you as much as she makes you think it does. It's not

easy to put so much faith in something so insubstantial but

Acceptance, they say, is the first step.

Try

I look into your eyes and I see that conviction. That conviction to succeed and the same conviction that tells me I am a failure. Hurtful hazel eyes that look right pass me like I am noone. Well, someone, just not a singer.

Open the mouth; just not the right way. A lyric comes out; just not the right word. A tone comes out; just not the right note. A sound comes out; just not the right dynamic. I see your fear. The mouth gets smaller, the lyric gets more blurred, the tone gets more flat and the sound gets softer. Useless dead weight, how can you call yourself a singer, much less anything more?

They can’t even hear you anymore. You can’t even hear yourself.

How do you expect those standing bodies to see you when you can’t look at yourself? The noise will stare back at you. The silence of the room will scream at you. Your hands tremble at your own reproach. Your body’s in a fetal position. Your face wetted and dried.

How can I be confident when I am the one who sees my failures most clearly?

Jealousy does not look good on you. Green is not your color. I saw you peering at your score just now. Toxic thoughts of how other notes seem to be easier. It’s funny because you know, in your core, it is not true. Yet, you envy. Stupid.

Focus, think, try, try, try,try,TryTryTRY! Fuck! Try as many times it takes! Then, succeed.

The Husband

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Desert (day 20)

The Husband
Our marriage is like the desert –

almost bearable in the day. Seemingly

never-ending as we drag our feet through the

terrain. Exhaustion takes over words. The vows,

unable to withstand the blazing heat, buried deep

three yards behind. We communicate with stares of

resignation.

Life goes by on routines; dry. He – the office and

back. I – the living room, the study, the kitchen and

bed. This cycle repeats until a storm hits. Then it is

every man for himself. The fit survive but only the fittest

last. I, will live. As the thirst becomes overwhelming,

I shall quench it with tears. Luckily for me, he cries

like a man.

The nights are freezing, usually with the kid between

us. The calendar marks our next appointment; two

minutes of our minds fixated on sand in uncomfortable

areas. His wedding ring like a noose as I gasp for air.

Only he can make me feel as dead as I am alive.

I would not trade him for anyone else.

Sunday's Chore

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Food (day 19)

Sunday's Chore

Apple juice. Banana spread. CoffeeCoffeeCoffee.

Doughnuts. Eggs. 2 pounds Fish. Garlic Gin Greens.

Ham. Ice-cream. Jelly. Ketchup. Lettuce. Mint.

Nectarines. Orange. Potatoes. Quinoa. Raisin.

Shallots Soup Sangria. Thyme. Unleavened bread.

Vanilla pudding. Wheat Waffles and Watercress.

Xacuti with chicken and coconut, XanaxXanaxXanax.

Yam Yellowtail Yoghurt. Zucchini Zuppa Zest.

Poison Me

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Poison (day 18)

Read an article about Southeast Asia playing ping-pong with the current refugees makes me disheartened. Sadly, Singapore is one of them. Although I understand that we, Singapore and other countries, may not be adept to take in the sheer number of migrants, I believe that any number is better than none. I cannot begin to understand how it must feel to be one of them. Living on (metaphorically and literally) donated items. This is for the stranded refugees in Southeast Asia. Apologies for the bad attempt at shakespearean english :x

Poison Me

How in thy ordinary did I brand’d as poison pray?

Shunn’d like plague of winter nights in May.

Our tongues doth not meet. My mistress lost.
Mine children art gone. Mine name forgot.

Paper identity sits at bottoms of waters.

I, no longer man, but pest in thy world.

Mine dirt and skin a deadly potion to touch.

Mine face bleeds acid in judgement eyes of angels such.
Mine voice the starving serpent hiss "Big bro'ers,

why art thou changing thy hands o’er o’er?"

Who the po’r unfortunate acquired me!

I yearn to clasp her embrace and feel their souls.

But storm, unkind and punishing.
It swallowed me whole.

Mrs. Montag

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Addiction (day 17)
When you're not thinking, your subconscious takes over and makes you feel. When you feel and do not understand, you are hollow. Some want to do nothing but as the pressure inside becomes too much, they explode. Some will try to fill it with other thoughts and acts, but it is almost akin to throwing balls into hoops at the wrong side of the court. When you don't find a proper way to face your skeletons, you start becoming undead. When that happens too often, you become addicted to being half-alive. Fulfill yourself by staring your emptiness in the face and ask the right questions. The answers will then come much easier than you think.

Inspired by the book, Fahrenheit 451, by Ray Bradbury. 

Mrs. Montag
I got my stomach pumped tonight.

That’s no big deal. Everyone has done it.

It is almost a weekly routine for me.

In fact, I crave it.

They inject you with this amazing concoction

of dancing colors after you get pumped. It helps

you forget your pain.

They call it Euphoria.

I have tasted it so many times, the body has become

more resilient than the burning flames on the next

government street.

Protocol is to up the dose.

I crave protocol,

so I make sure I’ll always take one pill more than the last.

My insane husband has fled to join the hippies

on the tracks. Something about giving

happiness a try. I call it naivety.

Do I miss him? Well, I get the parlor walls

all to myself and the seashells are never offed

these days. I listen to them as I count the capsules.

The bombings in the adjacent city make the best songs

for each session. Upbeat and dynamite.

The poison coursing through my empty veins,

slowly seeping into my hollowed mind. Hear

the low hum of the machine, sucking the sleep

out, next to me. It sounds like his voice.

Euphoria. It brings me to the perfect world,

their perfect world, my perfect world.

Lazarus

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Rising (day 16)

Lazarus

I rose to the surface – head, full of hot air,

first, followed by my decaying body. Merciless

waves crash onto me but it is the crack of

dawn that rose my eyelids. I rub my eyes with

bloated hands, full of chipped nails, 8 fingers left.

They buried me once.

I had to claw my way through the God’s earth.

Fulfilling, but tiring nonetheless. My cold shadow

triumphantly displayed by the moon shine on

the ground, heated by the fires below.

Hear, with only one ear, the birds cheer as hope rose.

Headed home to find the Missus pale as

a ghost. I smiled as wholly as I could and blamed it

on the Haver*. His plans are going to get me

killed again.

When the black flag rose for the second

time, they threw me into the ocean, praying the

animals would do the job. But, the fishes that kept

my dead flesh company, they know of His spirit.

And Lazarus rises once more.


* "Haver" is hebrew for the word friend.

Nails

30 day writing challenge

Topic: Fingernail (day 15)

Nails

We have an unorthodox relationship.

I shield you from the cruel hits of life with my own being.

I suffer pain so you don’t have to but I do not mind at all.

I believe it is what I was meant to do.

You dress me up now and then.

Your favorite is the polka-dotted overalls, red with passion
and green with envy. I wear each outfit proudly. I believe
this is how you express your devotion.

But your love is possessive.

I sometimes venture and try your limits. You’d surely cut
me off, keeping only what’s close to home. I want
to see the world. But I believe I shall never
leave your side.

Anti-fate

30 day writing challenge
Topic: Happy (day 14)

Anti-fate

I smile today.

I smile today because I saw a child

with a pup that does not growl.

They played around in the mud and sand,

getting dirt on feet and hands.

I smile today because I saw a man

with 12 roses in his hand.

He looked around and anxiously wait

for a girl promised as his date.

I smile because I saw a bride

with her groom that’s standing beside.

They kissed each other at Saint Valentine’s church,

hopeful of the new life they lurch.

I smile because I saw 2 dads

with their daughter that they just had.

They hugged her tight and caressed her cheek,

singing a lullaby to get her to sleep.

I smile because today I get

the chance again

to cause some pain

and turn it all so brilliantly bad.

The pup will bite and the child shall cry,

the man will see people pass by and by,

the groom will leave scars on her face,

the dads will be the daughter’s disgrace

Oh, the excitement to see their tears

I smile today,

the 13^th of May,

as little mortals brave their greatest fears.
I'll sit back and watch for it is interesting to see
exactly how fragile happiness can be.

Clutter of Friends

30 day writing challenge

Topic: Clutter

Clutter of Friends

They are all over the place

Never seem to be where I last

Leave them. Almost like they move

Themselves when I'm not there

Still, they always find me when

I need them most

My Sexy Binoculars

30 day writing challenge

Topic: Fetishist

My Sexy Binoculars

I see you in the kitchen.

Our sexual tension is unbelievable. 

As you peel the onion, do it slowly.

I'd like to perform. 

My sex grows for you as your soup

simmers. You stir your pots - sometimes
with one hand, sometimes two.
Naughty girl.
I can't wait to delve into your world.
Tears, the size of virgin pearls,stream
from your eyes as you cut into the

bulb of my deepest desires.
This is sexy.
I like it when you cry.

At the core of your tight messy bun is a
thick manly rod. I see you sweat in our heat.
They trickle seductively down your
forehead, to your kissable cheeks, to
your kissable neck. Leading me closer
and closer to your pleasure gold.
You gasp desperately for air in the
midst of the steamy passionate room.
I hear my love juice calling out as
your kettle screams my name. 

Quiet now. Mr. wedding ring is in. We

have to keep it down. 

You place your wooden spoon into

your mouth and lick the gravy off

it. Every single drop on every

single inch. 

Monday, 5.30pm, apartment 6D. 

I look forward to Mrs. 7D tomorrow.