Mother and Child

Martha bandaged another finger,
grimacing at the pain from the cut
and her feet that bored the weight
of a child too sick to rest.

She laboured over the stove
and remembered the pressure
of her growing womb
against the tumor that forced
tears streaming from her eyes.

She ladled porridge into a Micky bowl
and stood it on the table to cool.
As she rested her aching back on a wicker chair,
she remembered the reward
for the decision not to take painkillers.

“Mama” came from a now happy bear
pounding his paws, against the side of his pen.
His smile was like honey on her lips.

(27.03.2006)
(revised 30 July 2006)

-----------------------------------------
Mother and Child

Martha bandaged another finger,
grimacing in pain from the cut
and her feet that had bore the weight
of a child too sick to rest.

She laboured over the stove
and remembered the pressure
of her growing womb
against the tumor that had forced
hot tears from her eyes.

She ladled porridge into a Micky bowl
and stood it on the table to cool.
As she rested her aching back
on a wicker chair, she remembered
the decision and consequences,
not to take painkillers.

“Mama” came from a happy bear pounding
his paws, against the side of his pen, for food.
His smile, like starlight, lit up the room
and lifted her up to the clouds.

(30 December 2005)

Tag - Five Weird Habits

This was previously lost when I was re-organising my blogs. I've done a bit of editing but nothing that changed the meaning of the context.

Okay, Cookala tagged me for this blog game.

The rules: The 1st player of this "game" starts with the topic "5 weird habits of yourself" and people who get tagged need to write a blog entry about their 5 weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next 5 people to be tagged and list their names.

Here's my weird five (only five?):

1. When I was small, I used to keep a diary. I didn't have a locker to keep it in and I was always afraid that other people would read the entries, so I wrote in a code which I invented using alphabets and numbers. I sometimes still do, such as with my passwords. Code aside, most people still don't understand my gibberish. Conversation-wise, I would sometimes blurb out sentences, meaningless to my family. When asked, I would tell them I was continuing from the conversation we had a week ago, much to the chagrin of my family. Heh.

2. I'm obsessive about most things and almost perfectionist about things I feel should be perfected. As a child in school, I had terrible handwriting and a teacher in my grade one class commented on it to the whole class. From then on, I worked so hard to improve my handwriting, now everyone says I have such beautiful handwriting. They never knew. Now, when I have to hand-write notes, I would throw them away if my handwriting is not good enough in my eyes. I will re-write until I am satisfied and if I am not, I'll resort to have them typewritten on the computer.

3. Obsessiveness continues (heh) - I'm obsessive about cleanliness though my own area is at most times untidy (excuse: I never seem to be able to find the time to tidy up and they get untidy again pretty soon despite my trying to organise things. Hey but when I arranged stuff, I need to arrange them neatly row by row without one item out of place). I hate dirty toilets and people picking their noses in public. I also hate hair falling all over the face and have to resist the urge to snip them off (I'm talking about other people's hair since mine is neatly behind my ears except for a bit of fringes or else they're frizzed up neatly).

4. I do most things with my left hand and left leg but when I played hop scotch when I was a child, I hopped with my right leg. Now, I write with my left hand but I can hold a fork, spoon and knife in the correct manner. I also hold chopsticks with my right hand where they should rightly be. When I sitting for my secretarial examinations, I wrote with my right hand when my left hand got tired from all the writing.

5. I hate bright lights and can read well in dim lights. I hate tight clothings and labels or clothings which scape my skin when I wear them. I usually cut out the labels from my tee-shirts.

Does that count? Okay, here's another one. I prefer savoury not sweet food for breakfast. If I'm stuck with only a piece of cake, I'll probably eat it only if I am near starvation because it's sweet not savoury. Otherwise, a cup of milo would do.

Okay, now I have to do some tagging. I tag DaniB, Alson Teo, Sharon (Ren), vmh (Vicky) and Messalina. Have fun!

And Happy New Year, people.

P/S: I know I'm ranting again. That's why I should stick to writing verses because at least I'm compelled to condense my rants.

PP/S: I forgot to write about the weird weird stuff such as encounters of different kind and deja vu experiences, heh.

Merry Christmas

I tried to post an animated card but was not able to. I'm still learning and will try to do so again.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Here goes again (no animation though - sorry)

Architecture Fun At PFFA

My house (at drawahouse.com):








Based on the drawing and the 10 answers they gave this is a summary of their personality:

Your house tells the world that you ought to be a leader. You are a freedom lover and a strong person. You are shy and reserved. If you've drawn a cross on each of windows, you always want to live alone. You are very tidy person. There's nothing wrong with that because you're pretty popular among friends. Your life is always full of changes.

When it comes to love, you shut yourself off. It's difficult to win your heart because you have decided to keep your feelings deep inside. You see the world as it is, not as you believe it should be.

You added a flower into your drawing. The flower signifies that you long for love. It also safe to say that others don't see you as a flirt. You don't think much about yourself.

Avatar Fun at PFFA

Avatar fun at PFFA

Field of Weeds

Sometimes, our mind is a field of weeds,
where there's no tree to provide us shade.
There’s only the wind to keep us company.
And dandelions that invite goldfinches
to mesmerise and attract bees to sting.
Poppy seeds, innocent in our muffins,
hide in the ground to sprout unwanted dreams.
So which to weed out and which to keep
is a choice only we, ourselves should make.

---------------------------------
10 December 2005
(revised 30 July 2006)

The Blue Door

Do not stare
at the little blue door
in the corner
of my bedroom;
lest it opens
and you are pulled
into the darkness within.

Do you see it,
all its four feet by two,
big enough to go through
if you crouch a little?
Do you hear
flapping of wings
like insects trying to escape?
Or is the flip-flip
just the leaves outside
my window brushing
against each other?

Do not stare
at the little blue door.
If it is still there,
do not be tempted to go in.
------------------------------
9 December 2005
(revised 19 December 2005 )
(revised 30 July 2006)

A Birthday Greeting

A birthday greeting flushed across
a cyberline and landed pooped
at the right space. Great!

Gabriel will have his birthday
wish and all the wishes
he could wish, as long as
he does not wish for an alien
autumn to vanish.
--------------------------------
30 November 2005
(revised 30 July 2006)

Reciting the Alphabet

A is the first letter of the alphabet
and we have to travel a length
of rope before we reach Z.
Can we recite our life,
like children reciting the alphabet,
from A to Z then to A again
until we are sure of what is to come
before we reach Z?
Just so to know
what should have been.
-------------------------------
15 November 2005
(revised 2 August 2006)

Different World

As your anniversary draws near,
I spend my nights trying to catch
sleep with both hands
but like the air, it slips
through the gaps of my fingers
though I keep them well shut.
As my eyelids flicker
at the blinding glare
of my computer, I wonder
where you are now.
Can someone just disappear
like the last puff
of breath they give out?
Or are they lingering in the air,
in a different form,
in a different dimension,
in a different world?
----------------------------------
12 November 2005
(revised 30 July 2006)

Fatigue

Not today, I can't write.
A giant's feet have stepped on mine
and needles prick the pillow of flesh
on my shoulders, each time I move my head.
And my head feels like it would drop off anytime
from drunkenness of exhaustion.
And my brain just wants to flip
around the net of the web.
-----------------------------------------------
12 October 2005

Millionaire Wannabe

At work on Saturday, supposed to be an off day,
got pissed off by an assistant, a temp
who came in two hours late and so
could not hand up her work on time.
(And she was the one getting paid for the day.)
Her excuse: there was no one to take her to work,
and she didn't know how to take buses,
had never taken buses before
and didn't like taking buses at all.
Her words pricked my brain like a million needles
and I heard myself told her
next time not to tell me that she could only top up
her mobile phone credit on payday.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
8 October 2005

Your New House

Today, we went to look at designs
to build a new house for your anniversary.
There has to be your favourite colour -
maroon, a shade like red;
and granite, which is more lasting than terrazzo.
There would be a picture of you,
and Mother Mary and Jesus, of course,
and two praying angels of stone
by the sides to guard your door.
It has to be perfect as we would visit often
and because this is where you last
touched this world.
--------------------------------------------
8 October 2005
12 August 2006

To Understand

Don't tell me a holy man never gets rob
or things inside his house ever gets lost.
Don't tell me a rich man's drain never clogs
or filth never sticks to its sides.
Does he wait until he sees a gun at his face
before he installs an alarm in the house?
Does he wait until the plumbing overworks
and the pipes bursts
before he sets them straight?
-------------------------------------
6 October 2005
(revised 29 July 2006)

After Life

It had been a long time
since I could run my errants
or fetch dad to the supermarket
as I did today.
Before you left for better days
I had given you all of my life,
which I have no regret,
if I could just hug you again.

And today you made me understood,
you had set us both free
and that life should not be frightening
after all.
--------------------------------
4 October 2005
(revised 2 August 2006)

Colours

Some folks say red looks like magenta.
Some folks mix colors like jugglers.
Some crave cyan like the blues.
Some still doubt purple is indigo.
----------------------------------------
3 October 2005
(revised 29 July 2006)

One Family

We sat at the round table,
five minus one.
Your last moments
were on my mind the whole day.
At supper, you released me
and allowed me to feel
we were still one family.
---------------------------------
2 October 2005
(revised 20 July 2006)

Little Feet

On our way to dinner,
my sister asked me which turn to make.
I remembered the time mum was with us
and her chuckle, almost a sneer but not at me.
"You're asking her?"
She knew I could only lead them with little feet
but these little feet never failed them or me.
Her chuckle echoed in the car
in everyone's mind again that night.
--------------------------------------------------
1 October 2005
(revised 20 July 2006)

Sketch

A break from versing, here's a sketch

Mother Bird

She's a mother bird
guarding her best
but there's no egg
and no baby bird in her nest.
She's her only brood
and she'll snap at you
if you poke her breast,
because you're not one of her's.
-----------------------------------
30 September 2005
(revised 10 August 2006)

Militant Limb

Why do you let this me live
with this militant limb battling
the life out of me?
You won't let me cut it off
and you won't let it heal.
I can only grimace at her hideous sight.
Sometimes she will detach herself
but always she will return
to taunt me again like an iron-on
stuck to my skin.
--------------------------------------
29 September 2005
(revised 10 August 2006)

Transposed

As my finger runs along the page
sternly to discipline the words,
the hum of the air-con hovers over my head
and brings me back to the hospital
by my mother's bed.
Whirls of air from the ceiling fan
beat against the vacuum of my bubble.
She is here with me
but I am alone.
---------------------------------------------
27 September 2005
(revised 18 July 2006)

If Life Is A Book

If life is a book,
then we can return to previous days
to live them again
by flipping back the pages
and revising the verses.
----------------------------------------------
26 September 2005
(revised 12 July 2006)

Is This Life?

Is this life as what it should be?
When morning and night we hear our sighs?
And we see the heaving of our own bosoms
As we breathe in the air, which is not as free
As it's suppose to be.
-------------------------------------------------
25 September 2005
(revised 9 July 2006)