Hong Kong

Always sleep-deprived
Craving spicy barbecue chips
I like rhymes and pizza

Also I hope you're having a good day :)

Message from Writer

"Success is a fickle mistress, she awaits no man." - my english teacher, who doesn't even know I used his words as a quote but they're just that great so why not. i'll tell him someday.


Published Work

Sweet Nothing

The red tape stops me from seeing your scarlet face
I see it in your eyes that you want to leave this place
But cultures and obligations create shackles in the dark
And yours have risen up to create some ugly marks

You’re trapped and suffocating with words that are left unsaid
So many broken sighs that have been left on read
Betrayer eyes and a tell-tale heart that gazes up to the stars
Analysing feelings from within your dusty mason jars

Prying fingers only worm so much comfort into your veins
Try as they might, they can’t find the way to ease your pain
The pressure builds in parts yet to be recognised
This type of rejection has already been quite formalised

If you could cut off strings and ropes
And find a way to renew lost hope
Would you bother taking the leap?
Would you bother braving the slope?
The price of heaven isn’t cheap
It’s just a...

"Gesundheit" (5/5)

Note: mentions of the Nazi party/ideology (but it's not glorified) as the story happens in Germany, 1945
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four

Today is my birthday. Erwin woke up and glanced at his calendar. May 7th, 1945. Whipping off his covers, he sped to his parents room and opened their door, beaming at the new morning. 
    The cake had blue frosting, made from almost a year’s savings. His parents laughed and celebrated with him during the day, letting him blow out the candles at lunch. He gave his parents a slice each before taking one of his own, grinning at the smiles on their faces. He wished they could smile like this more often.
    The radio crackled to life when Erwin’s mother turned it on for music, bringing Erwin back to just five days ago when the surrender of German forces in Berlin was announced. It wasn’t discussed in the family, in fact it wasn’t...

"Gesundheit" (4/5)

Note: slight mentions of Nazi ideology/the Nazi party (but it's not glorified) as this story takes place in Germany, 1945 (end of WWII)
Part One
Part Two
Part Three

The end of the world came quickly. The news, still filled with songs of praise for the fatherland and jarring criticism and hatred for the non-Aryan, leaked out little scraps of defeat. “Of course, the Allies were now only a few days from Germany's border, but with our superior people and power we'd win again! There was nothing to fear, just stay loyal!”
    Erwin found himself listening less and less to the propaganda, instead he gathered what little scraps of knowledge he was given and gave it to the boy (Uri) when they talked. 
    “My birthday is in two days.” Erwin said. He was lying on the bed of the guest room, throwing a ball into the air and catching it. 
    “Okay.” The boy from the wall was sitting on...

"Gesundheit" (3/5)

Note: Takes place during end of WWII in Germany, so mentions of the Nazi party/ideology are present (but aren't glorified)
Part One
Part Two

    "Erwin, did you raid the kitchen without telling us again?" His mother's playful tone betrayed the slight worry in her voice. Food was after all, still being rationed. 
    "I'm sorry mom," He said, lowering his head. "It's just that I'm so hungry lately. I think I've grown another centimetre this past month."
    His mom sighed, tousling his hair with a smile. "Well, can't do anything about that. Just leave some of us, okay?"
    "Alright mom, I'll remember." Erwin couldn't look into her eyes, he was afraid she'd realise what he'd been doing with the food. 
    "I love you." She said, kissing his hairline and grabbing his father's cane as they left for work. It was Saturday, and another day Erwin would have to spend alone (alone?)in the house. He waited for half an hour after...

You did not tell me about the roses

You did not tell me about the roses
Their thorns and petals rising to greet my fingers

You did not tell me about the weeds
That I would find so beautiful

You did not tell me about
The blazing skies
The moonlit nights
The heavy squalls
The city lights

You did not tell me about
The gentle smiles
The grounding touch
The lingering laughs
No, you did not tell me as much

You did not tell me about the trepidation
That could guide my eyes
You did not tell me about the laws
That dictated my love

You did not tell me about the boundless joy
That could still arise from such a world

You did not tell me

And you let me find out for myself

"Gesundheit" (2/5)

TW: Mentions of the Nazi party and Nazi ideology (but it isn't glorified). The story takes place in Germany, 1945 (end of WWII). 
Part One

It had been a week since Erwin discovered that thing (the boy) in the wall. How could his patriotic parents let such a thing happen in their house like this? Of course, he hadn’t told them. The thing (boy) in the wall must have found a way to convince them, manipulate them. Such was the nature of people (people you said people) like them.
    “Damn it.” Erwin hissed, trying to make sense of the situation. What if his parents did it willingly? Were they traitors for helping someone else? Wait, why was he thinking like this? Of course his parents were traitors! But then if that was the case, what was he?
    “Damn it.” He gritted his teeth and swung a kick at the door frame in his room, causing the wood to...

"Gesundheit" (1/5)

TW: This story happens in 1945, at the end of WWII. Mentions of the Nazi party and Nazi ideology are present (but aren't glorified). The ending is good I promise.

Erwin lifted up the page of the calendar he was holding, counting the days until his birthday. In approximately thirty-seven days it would be May 7th, and he would be fourteen years old. The papery thinness of the calendar edge sliced into his unsuspecting finger, and he yelped in surprise. 
    “Stop it, Erwin.” He scolded himself over the pool of scarlet that topped his finger, like a little hat. “You will soon be a member of the Hitler-Jugend, you can’t show pain. Our enemies would hate us for it.”
    He stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked hard, the metallic taste of blood reminding him of the smell on his fingers when he assembled his first rifle. It was part of a classic drill, but he...

Binary Options

Ringlets upon ringlets of thorns from roses
Crowns of deceit that form under our noses
Windows of opportunity that mock from their wings
From the littlest child to the brightest king

I’d like to create mountains from my unforgotten woes
From the things I’ve lived to the things I’ve chose
Pierce the sky with all the messy glory
To escape from my position as the regular quarry

Gazes turn restraints with unbenign flourish
What a blessing to be allowed to be so foolish!
These binary options make my head churn red
And the oblivious sea just continues to spread

But the world wears it permanent sneer
It already made its intentions so very clear
A step is to be watched with untethered scrutiny
So please excuse our resulting crudity 

If you spin hard enough the world will blur
(Though I’m told you get the same effect with liquor)
If one crafted wings, do you think they’d fly?
I think we’re...

The Benefits of Starting a Cult

So I started a cult. Yeah, that’s really how I’m going to start this off because what else am I supposed to say? Alright, I guess I could start by explaining how that happened, but that’s just boring. Nobody wants to hear about how I gathered some people in my biology class and decided to create a cult to get the best grades possible. Nah, what people want to hear about what happened after we made our sacrifice. Yup, I was quite serious about my cult.
    It was the first year of IB, and my penultimate year of high school. Crushed by the weight of all the upcoming projects, tests and due dates, I came up with the undoubtedly brilliant idea of starting a study group. An intense study group. A cult.
    Gathering my close friends, I became cult leader, with my high priest and right-hand woman by my side. Oh yeah, we were going to kick...


Swing, swing, the pendulum swings
When the momentum stops, which side will win?
The change is radical, the change is soft
The change will burn and the change will frost

Hate blossoms aside, a prejudice unleashed
From a mother, a worker, another human beast
On the other: acceptance, that never seems to cease
The desperate desire, to please, appease

Let’s meet in the middle, a willing compromise
Let’s reject the stereotypes, lift up the skies
Knock back the standards, rise up from the dead!
Remove the expectations from inside of your head

Steal the peace back, wage a war over it
Fly like a dove from a fighter plane’s cockpit
Hypocrisy! Hypocrisy! Thy name is humankind!
Bring justice for the hurt. What’s that? I’m blind.

The age of innocence is beyond long gone
There are no more surprises that can be brought on
The kids have grown up, their beards are stained white
Still young and ageless, but tired from...


A plague on the world, is the emotion of stress
I wish I could feel it, just a little less
But right when I feel like I'm done for
I realise: there is more

The Stranger

There is beauty in truth and truth in nothing
Gifting death is life’s greatest wish
Wasted hands, time searching for something
The adversary smiles with most pointless flourish

Existence then, is stranger to all
A glass hero rises only to fall
The doorway in is as same as the out
And the hallway between is flooded with doubt

The most splendid revelation, to go against kin
Only to realise, spend more out than in
Praised as a martyr for the years to come
Stick to a stance: you win some you lose some

Like dancing with air, connections are lost
Life like this can’t, go on
When I’m stranger to me, and stranger to all
The curtains are finally drawn.

The Lord and the Lions

He was sixteen and learning to drive,
His uncle’s beat-up car growling in protest
At his clumsy maneuvering
From home lessons and paper diagrams.
His bronze hands clutched the wheel and 
Two shakes of a lamb’s tail later he was
Hitting the curb and 
Driving up on the pavement
Startling a gentlemen who waved his 
Leather satchel at him.

“Damn alien.” The man grumbled
At his watch that was ticking his life away.
The ellipses at the end of his fingers
Shone to perfection 
As he fingered his wool coat jacket,
Neglecting the space around him and
Crashing into a woman.

She took her time to apologise, 
Resisting the urge to bow in deference.
Her silky dark hair washing across her
Milky face.
Rough hands steadied the man and sent him on his way,
Then picked her own canvas bag up.
Her small feet took a left turn, 
Away from the commotion coming from
The car that had just veered...


Walking capsules of memories─we are now
Reacting on the present as influenced by our past
The living stir the dead─no twitch of an eyebrow
This reminiscence is something that can never last
Another flickering flame that can’t save a dying ember
I’m just another amnesiac for the souls I can’t remember

Death is only temporary─until you’re sure it isn’t
You think you live forever─until you’re sure you don’t
You’re stored in the memories of those
Who thought they thought they knew you
But who are you this time─Who knows?
They’ve already begun anew

What happens when your name appears for the last time?
When the poet deep inside─makes up your last rhyme?

Mortality─eventual, but definite
Nothing in this world is infinite
No love, no song nor book
Could ever be a strong enough hook
To keep us all from fading
Or to keep us all from staying

Unveiling the biggest of denials
Of the deepest human desire
Truth brings hidden...


Some nights I’d like to ask the moon, the stars and the sun
The questions in my mind, that storm, buckle and run
So I climb up to my roof and join them in the sky
And speak with open heart at the gods that reign up high

Your know-it-all face with rugged craters as your eyes
If you laughed at me right now then I wouldn't be surprised 
I'd ask you to speak for me but would not forsake my manners
And therefore I'll just have to wait as you withhold all my answers  

I'm impatient as I know it and I'm sure you do too 
I feel like I've been up here ever since the night came to greet you 
I just have some questions please, reasons for my delusions 
And no one else I've seen so far could come to the right conclusions 

Your Majesty of the Night and the master of the tides  
I wonder why...

Under My Bed

The journal is the last thing I remember before going to sleep. Filled with nights and weeks of dreams, I hope that it will help me lucid dream, because my controlling my dreams I hope to experience something that people can only ever imagine.
    My left hand pokes out of the covers tonight, like a worm when the rain has finally come. The pale pink fingers reveal themselves to the empty bedroom and shriek their paltry significance out.
    Something makes my bed creak and I ignore it. The phenomenon has been happening for the past two weeks, and I often hear the same sound in my dreams. This time however, the creak sounds different. This time it sounds persistent. And something comes out from under my bed. 
    I'm not nervous, because I know I can control this. It's all up to my mind, after all. The thing that comes out is a hand. An average-sized hand that has no distinguishable...

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Twenty Seconds to Last a Lifetime

    Oliver Smith, an accomplished astronomer, had always dreamt of making an earth-shattering find. One day, by echoing sound waves into the vast universe, he received a reply.
    “Tellurian. You have induced illegal contact.”
    Oliver’s stomach knotted up.
    “Nevertheless, we are not ungenerous. You have twenty seconds.”
    “For what?” Oliver trembled before his discovery.
    “Vocalising anything you want. Your words will determine the next sequence of events.”
    Oliver concentrated, the importance of the task crushing him. He decided to follow the leading thought on his mind. 
    Aware these could be his final words, Oliver Smith opened his mouth, and spoke.

Flash Fiction Competition 2019

Twenty Seconds to Last a Lifetime

    Oliver Smith, an accomplished astronomer, wished of making an earth-shattering find. One day, by echoing sound waves into the voids of the universe, he received a reply.
    “Homo sapien. You’ve induced illegal contact.”
    Oliver almost peed himself.
    “Nevertheless, we aren’t ungenerous. You have ten seconds.”
    “For what?” Oliver trembled before his discovery.
    “Vocalising whatever you want. Your words will be recalled eternally by your species.”
    Oliver mused, the importance of the task crushing him. He decided to go with the strongest thought on his mind. 
    Aware that these were his final words, Oliver Smith opened his mouth, and spoke.

The Cure for Blindness

On the 27th of May 1987, Timothee Stateham thought he knew what the cure for blindness felt like. After years of being kept in confinement in an old military compound turned psychiatric hospital, the sight of the cloudy blue sky greeted Timothee with more warmth than he had received in the past few years of his life.
    Standing outside the reinforced steel doors of the squat, glum building, with this cropped hair doing nothing against the breeze that buffeted his scalp, Timothee could almost forget the fact that his family would be picking him up in an hour. 
    Below his gangly, dangling hands lay one small suitcase. It was brown, made of refined italian leather and possessed an aura of grandeur that seemed unlike the meek attitude of its owner. With the initials ‘T.S.’ engraved and inlaid with gold on the ebony handles, one could almost imagine Timothee being a young thief, callously swiping the elegant mastery of a suitcase...

Better Leave the Lights On

    The cold was shocking. Taking off my mitten to twist open the metal doorknob of my second-rate hotel room, I could feel the very essence of winter gnawing at me through my skin, having infiltrated the handle I had to turn to get away from the freezing temperatures.
    Three quick movements later I was on the other side of the door, laying my head against the wooden frame and trying to make sense of the events that had happened earlier this evening. Turning away and catching sight of myself in the mirror, I had to admit with morbid humour that being dressed in funeral black was a good look on me.
    Sighing with exhaustion, I slowly took my suit jacket off and threw it on the bed with little care, my vision catching sight of the words I had tattooed on my wrist ten years ago. They were my initials, T.M.--Thomas Morgan--and another pair of initials that sent waves of...

Cascade in Flux

Who could ever imagine the joy
That comes billowing with a swish of hair
The curls and springs naturally formed
As they undulate languidly in the air

The ever-changing layer of fuzz
That wafts its way in the flitting wind
Rising ten centimeters above your head
So much higher than my giant grin

Some days it creeps above your hairline
Playing trapeze around your ears
Some days it creates a wall of fluff
I hope that stays for many coming years

I see your eyes roll at my outstretched hand
Coming with enthusiasm out of the blue
Ever-changing phenomenon I can’t get over
How to cope with this coalescence of corkscrews?

We’ll see each other in eighty year’s time
My eyes on you first, then straight to your hair
A parade of dancers with their own agenda
A cascade in flux, undulating through the air

Lost to my left and right

To be frank, it was a heartbreak of monumental proportions
Yet no guy or girl could have been the cause
No friendship or relationship could have caused the emotions
It ripped a gaping hole in order to make one face their flaws

Who could have seen it coming except for her?
The sudden slip in gait, the sudden snap of tendons
Who could have seen the incoming numbing blur
Except for her, nobody could have felt the damage done

Yet bone to bone, that’s where the real tear was present
Afraid of the worst, it was only a matter of ticking time
Before her worst fears tripled in an instant only to cement
Leaving her with a mountain to mourn and to climb

Her dreams of making it far, of feeling pride at last
Peeled away and left her naked in less than an instant
A lifetime of specific opportunities to flit away, fast
Weak knees to remind her of...

The orderly chaos of beautifully unattractive internal sludge

Smatterings of applause to the smudged up mush
Even a soldier of the heart is able to be ambushed
A dull shake of shock from conversation therapy
Who knew open hearts could ever crack so easily?

The spider spins wreaths of silky-fine falsehoods
A cannibal scorpion hiding his stinger in the woods
Prevaricate the truth and then barricade the youth
Mourning loss over loss from self-induced ruth

Unaccepted unorthodox swaying ways to make way
For broken teacups and shattered brown saints of clay
A rain of putrid acid love to rain down from high above
Shot point blank in the spine with a pattering of shoves

Two stabs in the back followed by a headbutt to the front
To wound the chosen prey for society’s most famed hunt
Like a twice-dead butterfly with crumpled wings of steel
Unable to take flight and yet still unable to yield

Backwards forwards steps that make sideways minds
Always easier to leave than be...


Soothsayer, soothsayer
Won’t you tell me what I think I know

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Tell me so I can let go

‘Cause every night I close my eyes
To visualise what I’d hope to be
And every night I realise
That that’s completely up to me

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Won’t you tell me what I think I know

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Tell me quick, don’t need a show

It’s riddling my mind with a thousand words
It’s running amok in a thousand curls
The screaming stress like brain-mad birds
Drags my mess into empty swirls

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Won’t you tell me what I think I know

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Release the news, let me take it slow

I’ve worked myself into the ground
For hours and hours of sleep not found
Twenty-four exams that are wound
Behind the corners I’ll have to round

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Won’t you tell me what I think I know

Soothsayer, soothsayer
Tell me so I can let go


ANother GivEn cRaze

Tiger, tiger, in my mind
Who’s the most livid one of all?
Why, it is you my queen
Or at least, the demon who peeps

OUT of your   M i n D


 ha.           haha.

Like a gunshOt to the brain (bang.gone.)
A flashpoint of flashes
Decisions made that are too rash
Your fireball fist so red-hot it would turn to ash

The best thing you could ever do is run

Wasting, wasting, wasting.

Every time I’m on this stupid computer
I want to stray
Into a world of nothing but fake lives and lies
Into a world of worthless, meaningless posts

The finger itches to hit that ‘+’ button
The one that will open a new tab
A new open possibility to procrastinate
To waste my time
To waste my life
To watch seconds tick by and minutes flit away like drunken fireflies on a Tuesday night

One video leads to the next and wow you guessed it
I’m now watching meme review
Which I guess is fun and all but oh look it’s already
Ten past four
In the afternoon
And I’ve done no work

Who do I have to blame? For the massive black piece of charcoal in my chest that used to be my pride at being steady
With concentration unbreakable

The work is done. But is it really? The extra work I do just to...

All that bad

Why, we all wish for the ‘good old days’
The carefree pranks with goofy school plays
We all wait eternities sprawled out on our beds
And hope that we become young again, in our heads

We wish and we wish to find our younger selves
We wish and we wish to again believe in elves
To dream of Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy
To find small grazes and the dark scary

We thought our lives back then were so much better
Back when we worried for birthdays we’d get a sweater
Yeah we all rushed to grow up, was that a mistake?
When we look back do we feel a familiar ache?

Of time spent not knowing it would be gone
Now we visualise the past in our never-ending yawns
We’re tired of work and of missing the over
Hoping to go back to the age of four-leaf clovers

So we write odes and poems and stories and laments ...



Because we’re unsure of what we write
Because we don’t like who we’ve become
Because we find ourselves too boring to care
Because we think what we say is dumb


Our own chaotic feelings and our thoughts
To make sure they don’t interfere with the day
We remove them and toss them aside
To make sure they don’t get in our ways


Our own hopes for the present and future
Because there’s no chance dreams could ever work
Well, that’s what we tell ourselves repetitively
That it’s nothing but a surrealist mental artwork

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Erase all the secretly wanted compliments
And focus solely and purely on the criticisms
Why? Because we can’t be over prideful
We all need to be the epitome of altruism

We’re told to expunge and destroy our own souls
Crushed by each other to unrecognisable bits
Crushing others unknowingly in an effort to be right
And we wonder why our minds...

Crows In The Mind

If souls could be tainted, yours is dead
The neurotransmitters inside your head
Have been distorted, changed and restrained
You've created your own shackles and chains

'Murder, murder' dark shapes cry out harshly
Their bodies circling over shamelessly
'Liar, liar' they hiss from closed beaks
Causing blood to rise to your cheeks

'Run away, naive child, run away.'
And once hearing that you don’t hesitate
To tear your way out of reality
To abscond, to escape, to flee

From whatever way you try to bolt
Using any kind of adrenaline jolt
A choice to resist or to succumb
You chose the easy way, and went numb

But your legs are made of dreams
And they don't work as well as they seem
Each movement sluggish to exhaustion
But you do not have any other options

The birds almost big enough to be ravens
They're coming to satisfy their cravings
Your guilt is the nectar that they claim
And their ambrosia...

Tiny Love Story


We met on a bench. 

Sitting alone during break years ago, my consciousness buried deep inside the welcoming trenches of a book, she spoke to me first. Agreeing to help watch over her book, I did not know how important she would become to me. 

I did not know about the laughs that would follow in the years to come, the inside jokes, the shared fears, the blind trust we would give each other. But when I needed someone to anchor me to the world, she was there for me first. And when I opened up, she was the one who heard my story first. It's only fitting that now I'm writing my first story for her. 

For my anchor. For my refuge. And even if not by blood,

For my older sister.

I love you.


We noticed you first on the pitch
The football travelling without a hitch

It weaved between your blue-black shoes
We were amazed, you were amused

Two steps later and you scored a goal
You’re an attacker, a mid, a forward-driven soul

Finishing a win with a cartwheel flip
Both football and ballet, our hearts lose grip

We all admit that you’re effortlessly gorgeous
Yet you’re smart, kind, not even obnoxious

Your laughing, smiling lips glow pink
You bring us down with a single wink

Checkmate, checkmate, you’ve got us trapped
What to do when we’re nothing but rapt?

If we take a shot we know we’ll miss
A futile attempt for a moment of bliss

One look at you, can you blame us?
Seriously girl, there’s nothing to discuss

A look from afar though is all we dare
(even if we get sad when you’re not there)

But you’ve got a life that you should be living
So we’ll see...


There was once a young girl 
Who dreamed she could dance 
She’d watch people and videos 
Soaking it all up in a trance 

But whenever she tried to move 
Her feet would turn out awkward 
Clumsy, as all the ideas she had 
Evaporated and flew upwards 

So she let it drop for a few years 
The only dancing that took place 
Was in her mind and daydreams 
But the longing still shone on her face 

Parties from popular girls avoided 
Petrified before that pulsing dancefloor 
All those bodies flowing naturally 
Nothing could stop her heading for the door 

The songs cried out to bring her back 
She turned a deaf ear to their pleas 
But as the left that joyful party 
She’d still hear them in the breeze 

little girl, little girl 
 come and try again 
you’ve got what it takes 
there won’t be awkwardness 
 or pain 

Fear of humiliation killed the hope 
That those words would bring...

The Infinite

A shocking cry of colours
As black bites into white
The only protest a scratch
Of pen on paper

The dark ichor flows and stretches
Dances and sighs to uncalculated halts
Leaving screaming lines of emotions
Loitering behind like a lost puppy

The paper itself is greedy
Lapping up the ink with relish
It drinks and drinks and drinks
It's only limit is to be insatiable

A wish to scribble is born
The purpose only to feel again
The eager swallowing of Stygian text
Settling into a radiant medium

And this juxtaposed duo of worlds
Is what pulls you to write
To put midnight pen on morning paper
To watch your words find anchor in the tangible

You long to watch the pen sweep
Across the pages, left to right
The rest only to find a reason to keep going
To keep satisfying an ever-growing desire

The deep-seated pull in your chest
That drags out the howling passion to compose


The curved cement barrier
As firm as it stands
With human ants scurrying
Left and
Right and
Up and


A deep groan as the turbines start to churn
More frantic running
More buttons pressed
As the dam comes alive again

The stagnant still-clear water

The first cracks start to show

More ants, more scurrying
More maddening, mindless hurrying

The stone facade is old
The iron support weak
The commander of the site is at
a loss

Because the pressure behind is building
It is

The fissures visible now
He picks up the phone
Speed dial number two
He gives an order to his right hand man

A phone picked up
A head nods once
The decision’s made
The dam--evacuated

The operator pulls the final lever
And there is a gasp of surprise
From the denied relief deep inside
As the first tear trickles down your cheeks

Death and Chickens

“If I want to get six volts
I’d probably plug in a motor.”
The perfect voice to make you sleep
While talking about generators

“What’s this circuit called?”
Not quite sure about that Sir
I’ve been doodling for ten minutes
And your diagrams to me are a blur

A wolf with snarling drooling jaws
A gummy bear that plays it cool
A man struck by a lightning bolt
A rickety rackety two legged stool

My chicken though, it’s pretty great
Made of lots of triangular shapes
I probably should withdraw from the artistic murk
Enough doodling, it’s time to work


To take a stand was to break it all
Now how could I ever stand up so tall?

Yet to free ourselves from human snares
Meant to first figure out, if we’d dare

It is our greatest hypocrisy
One that’s repeated audibly

Just be yourself, and you’ll be fine!
(Just remember you have to stay in line)

You’re perfect, flawless as you are!
(Oh but there’s a norm, don’t stray too far)

You’re not alone, there are others too!
(Just a slight warning, we’ll persecute you)

I don’t doubt the fire, that stirs in your soul
The one that you try, so hard to control

A choice to make, to take the leap
Or will you cut off your legs, and not say a peep?

Courage isn’t courage, if there is no decision
A muttering falsehood, that leads to derisions

But since to stand is to break it all
Then tell me truth, will you dare to stand tall?

apple of our eyes

Lonely apple on a tree
Swaying soft for all to see
Bugs notice, so do the bees
Wait a minute, why do they flee?

It’s shiny red and feels polished smooth
Starry white dots on crimson skin
With closed eyes you can already taste
the juice that will dribble down your chin

Your stomach is growling something fierce
With stretched out fingers you fear that
if you hold it too hard your nails will pierce
the thin red jacket that’s about to burst

Barely a touch, and the apple falls
Right into your waiting palm
Your world zooms into that one fruit
Surrounding sounds usurped by calm

Turn it slowly, take another look
Hm. This doesn’t seem bad at all
Saliva builds up under your tongue
Too eager to sit down slow, you let yourself fall

Back against the apple tree
You get ready to sink your teeth in
A bird flies in to chirp shrilly at you
Its wings...

a shattered whole we are now #contestfor69

Shards of almost diamond
That glisten in my dreams
Gleaming, broken pieces
Pushes loss to an extreme

I've wished a hundred times before
To reach out to you, say a word
But I am just a ghost of our past
When I scream, I will not be heard

I relish all those times we've had
And hoped we've had a little more
But life was too unpredictable
And I would beg for an encore

It wasn't your fault
And it sure wasn't mine
There is no one to blame
No secret plan, no hidden signs

The world will never warn us when
It truly is our time to leave
I just wish I could've said goodbye  
Instead I'm stuck here watching you weep

All my steps were aimed at home
I swear I was coming back to you
A flash of surprise, a bolt of energy
The sky shot me through and through

A blinding light and sparkling pain ...

Snapshots of a quirky girl on a normal school day, in the (hopefully accurate if wtw doesn't distort it when I post this) format of a play

            Act 1 Scene 1                                 
                                                       The Ground Floor of a School
    Enter DANIELLE, climbing up the stairs of her school from the ground floor to the 6th floor, where her locker is situated.

DANIELLE: huffing as she climbs the stairs What kind of idea was it to drop me off at the bottom? Her bangs fall into her eyes and she brushes them away. I really need to remember to cut my hair. Maybe tonight.

    A boy runs past her down the stairs, and she stops talking until his footsteps fade away.

DANIELLE: What kind of energy do you need to be able to move so...

The Golden and the Ink

Imagine a human being. Just a human being. Nothing more. Now hollow that human being out, what would you see? At first, maybe not much. I mean, what would you expect to see? But look carefully, hold your breath for a second, and stay still. Stay still and look. To your eyes, we may look like a thin layer of smoke, spread out and navigating our way throughout the body of this human being. That’s us. That’s me.

I don’t have a name, we’ve never been given one because nothing could ever fully encompass what we are, what we stand for. But I think what would help you most when it comes to understanding us would be to give us some kind of identification. Maybe then you could finally make sense of what you see in your mind.

How about Shadow Spirits? That sounds nice, doesn’t it? Yes. You could call us Shadow Spirits. We don’t have a physical...

Why I Write

Scritch scratch, I'm trying to find a title that will catch

Things stick
They repeat until they prick
So I scrawl them out
Until they click

It’s cathartic
can’t deny it
the pen
the darkness

Coun-ter it
Make people relate
give sight to the sightless

Fingers on keyboard
Typing it out
(People say that they smiled)
the specks of doubt

Black-pen goes
Your hand is moving
Brain attached?
I’m definitely not choosing

A new world has
been created
By my letters
and words.
A new story unfurls

My mind uttered
become a map
Of all that emotional sap
Where I can be




full ?

    The young boy stared at the piece of bread on the windowsill, where it was cooling. The golden loaf was still steaming from being taken out of the oven, the tantalizing smell of the starchy food making the boy sway towards it.
    It was calling to him. He knew it. He felt it. As if it were planned, his stomach growled anew, and the boy almost doubled over in pain, his hands gripping the tattered sides of his too-small shirt. He needed food and here, in front of him, was the perfect loaf of crusty brown bread. This was too exciting a temptation to resist. His hand reached out and….
    The boy stared around, confused. Although the bread by the windowsill was gone, and he was wearing new clothes, he was still hungry. Unbelievably hungry. Looking around, he saw that there was a large table at the far end of the room he was in, covered with food. Roast...

Unrelated #6

Words given to use: wings, candle, grass, cereal, textbook
Prompted by: stripedfly1001

Ah, mornings. Usually a moment where families greet other cheerily and eat breakfast together whilst sharing their hopes and expectations for the upcoming hours of separation before reuniting at dinnertime. Indeed, mornings are always a calm and merry part of the day. But you’ve always got your fair share of expectations. And now this, this is where the Johnson family comes in.

    “Mom! Jack stole the syrup again!” an orotund voice pierced the morning calmness like a chopstick in a soggy piece of carrot.
    “Did not!” yelled back another voice, shriller than the first. “Jon’s lying! He finished all the cereal!”
    “Yeah!” squeaked a tiny voice from the other side of the table. “It was Jo!” The second accused now glared at his youngest brother.
    “Shut up, Jeff! I did not!”
    “BOYS.” but the imposing motherly voice of Mrs. Johnson had no effect. The horde was still squealing...


1. What TV show did you watch as a kid (e.g. were you a My Little Pony type, a Phineas and Ferb type, etc.) 

Danny Phantom. That's my favourite. Then Ben 10, Kung Fu Panda Legends of Awesomeness, iCarly, The Fairly OddParents (please tell me you guys have seen this one it's great)

2. Should pineapple be on pizza?  

Don't care. If you like it, you like it. If you don't, you don't. No need to make an unnecessary fuss.

3. If there must be a word limit on a prompt/contest, what is your favorite length to write? 

600 is the word limit I usually find myself hitting, but 700-800 suits me fine as well.

4. Why is your username what it is? 

hmm... omicron is the 15th letter in the Greek alphabet. It just sounded cool to me so... why not? As for the numbers I have no idea, 7889 just was a random combination that my brain agreed...

Wrenching Spanners

Broken machines
Lined up in rows
Polish and oil
Oh, help our change throes

Inserting in
Program after program
We weren’t made for this
Cram and cram and cram

And when a device stops working
Send it to a specialist
Tighten a few random bolts
Send it back an optimist

We’re pushing ourselves
Harder than too hard
Our chains squeal in pain
Working our cogs scarred

We rattle as we move
Our screws have come loose
Come here and fix
The problem you’ve produced

Broken machines
In line with their guards
Switch your eyes and see
It’s a prefabricated graveyard


HELLO. Her Majesty LackingASocialLife the Prompt Queen has come up with a new prompt. And I did it. Obviously. Here are a bunch of ‘little life stories that never seem to be written about but still are extremely valid’


1) Probably (one of) the most dangerous games I played when I was young

Have any of you beautiful people heard of ‘Cops and Robbers’? It’s a game of two teams; Cops and Robbers. Cops catch the Robbers and bring them to jail, Robbers can spring their caught teammates out of jail. The game ends when a designated time has elapsed, or when all the robbers have been caught.




When one plays the game for long enough, one finds some pretty ingenious hiding places.

And by pretty ingenious I mean a complete threat to our lives. And ladies and gentlemen, this is because we would hide UNDER CARS.

*collective facepalm*

Most of the...


I wish I felt anchored.

I know, I know, I’m just a little kid in my fifth year of primary, and it’s totally normal for us to be a little all over the place. But at least when you’re all over the place you know where the parts of you are.

I have no idea where my pieces are.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to find them. Find me? I’m confused. I don’t know. All of my classmates seem so happy and carefree. None of them are floating above the ground like I am. Is that okay? Am I okay?

So I think I wish I felt anchored. I want to ask Mom, but she’s fighting too much with Dad and I’m scared of bothering her. I’m scared of a lot of things lately. It’s like I’m walking in air but my feet don’t touch anything, and I’m spinning around and not stopping.

I’m not stopping.

I don’t know...

clock ,--, work

like clockwork

I’m the monster under your bed
I’m  that demonvoice in, your, head.

like clockwork
like clockwork

You think this hasn’t all been planned?
Try and catch me!
I’ll evaporate through your fingers like

clockwork, clockwork

like clockwork

I know when you’re unprepared

like clockwork
like clockwork

I’m the poison in your air

(are you scared
are you scared)

I’m  h a l t i n g  time for this rhyme
the hours are of my command
be sure you can’t hear the chimes
‘this is a nightmare!’   no, my dear. this is grand.

clock ck ck  WORK

LATE! LATE! You’re late child!
back to bed immediately
what’s that? Your dreams are wILd?
fool. This is more than mere reality

It’s clockwork.

Smooth Criminal #songtitlepoem

Stole her heart on the Monday train
Left her standing in the rain
Heart lit afire with butane
The burning desire, she couldn’t sustain

Smooth criminal,
Smooth criminal,
A thief of valuables who didn’t think twice

Smooth criminal,
Smooth criminal,
She lost her guard to the highest price

Tuesday came as she waited by the rails
She couldn’t chase, there was no trail
Deluded with, tales upon tales
Never let go, to lose is to fail

And yet on Wednesday she waited still
A quickly melting iron will
From Wednesday to Saturday she repeated the drill
And it was on Sunday that her hope was killed

Smooth criminal,
Smooth criminal,
She closed her eyes when he rolled the dice

Smooth criminal,
Smooth criminal,
She lost her guard to the highest price


[in a grand voice] When life gives you lemons--”

“Hold on hold on a little bit. Why would life give us lemons again?”

“It’s just a saying. Now, when lif--”

“Why not a Ferrari, or a Porsche?”

“I don’t know. But when life gives y--”

“A billion dollars would be pretty nice.”

“Let me finish! [heavy sighing sound] When life gives you lemons, squ--”

“How many lemons are we talking about here, exactly?”

“Will you please be quiet!”


“When life gives you lemons, squeeze them into lemonade.”




“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“You told me to be quiet, remember?”

[sound of a facepalm] Just… did you understand the quote or not?”

“I think we should sell the lemons.”

“But that’s not the point!”

“But it’s better than lemonade. Or we could harvest the seeds and make a lemon tree plantation.”

“No! That’s not at all what the quote is supposed to mean!”

“You could...

The Motorcycle Maniacs

In the Insane Institute for Insanes in America, there were three people called Harry, Dave and Jack. They were best friends and had made a plan to escape the Institute.

3 days later, the 3 friends broke out of the Institute and into a motorcycle store to steal the 3 best motorcycles in town. They then sneaked into someone’s house by the window and saw themselves on the T.V. “Please beware of these dangerous and mentally deranged criminals. Please report to the Insane Institute for Insanes if you see them.” The reporter said. “They’re looking for us! What do we do now?” wailed Dave like a siren. “We will go around the world so we will end up right behind them and scare them!” concluded Harry. And so they left.

They ventured halfway around the world when one day, while they were eating brunch, a gang of hippies stole their motorcycles and roared off with them. “After them!” cried Jack....


Up until now, my life has been a lie
An empty silver platter of truth
Is that veracity I spy?
Nope, just the hidden curtain of my youth

Santa Claus isn't real (oh, and the Tooth Fairy)
Despair as you find out
Apologies seem too airy
We’ve sown the seeds of doubt

Grow up a little, open your mouth
Trust in lies to trusting smile
Corrupted now, your morals fly south
They’ll be back, but only for a while

“Have you brushed your teeth yet?”
“Yes Moma, two whole minutes.”
“Then why isn’t the toothbrush wet?
Your teeth still hide some spinach.”

On the time-out chair you think
If only you hadn’t deceived
But that falls right down the sink
When the time-out is relieved

“I never meant to do it” (you confess)
And that’s another shaving gone
Of the stout block of guiltlessness
That people used to count on

Your lying days are far from over
The fibs are...


Monday, 7/9/2009

I MADE A NEW FREND TODAY! She said her name was Reis but it was said like rayz. I really like that :)
   I said ‘how old are you?’ to her and she told me and I asked her her name and then after I told her my name was Lyla but spelt l, y, l, a, and she said I had a nice name. :D
                                                                     IM SO HAPPYYYYYY

Thursday, 15/10/2009

Mom told be I could invite friends over but because it’s holiday all my school friends are gone! :( :( :(
I’m  sad until  I remember...

Dual Duel

(What do you want to talk about?)

I want to talk about my mind and heart self.
How I’m unnaturally split, but I’m no dragon, mermaid or elf.

(Tell me more.)

Well I’ve felt for quite a while that I’m made of two.
Both are parts of me, my imagination or maybe something true?

I have two voices in my head, constantly debating.
They tear me in half at times, relating, hating, rating, stating.

One is hopeful and cheery, optimistic to the death.
Another is harsher logic, coldly counting my every breath.

(Does it bother you?)

Well in a sense, we’re all one and in pieces.
At the end of the day, we all retire to where the peace is.

Maybe for me the separation of two makes things easier to deal with.
But when I joke that I’m crazy, deep down I do hope it’s just a myth.

Any decision features both of my polar halves.
Any appearing problem...

Personal Narrative Competition 2018

To Be Alive

(Monday 8th September 2008)
You’re sitting on the white couch at home with your older brother. There is a quiet anticipation slithering through the air, and you feel your chest go thump thump faster than usual. You fiddle with the strawberry shaped button on your long-sleeved shirt with twitchy fingers, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that your older brother is fidgeting. Because you’re both waiting. Waiting to finally hold your younger brother for the first ever time. You’ve seen him a few days ago, when you both came home from school out of breath because you ran the whole way, rushing over to your parents’ room to peer into the wooden crib. And you had both stared at this little pint-sized speck of a baby, awestruck.
    Now you finally get to hold him for the first time, and for some reason you worry that you’ll mess up and possibly drop him. Apprehension makes a wave...

Personal Narrative Competition 2018

To Be Alive

    Life is strong. Yet life is fragile. I was quite young when that lesson first sunk into me, and I can remember it happening like it had just occurred. This story is one of sudden realisation and discovery and this anecdote, dear reader, revolves around my younger brother.
    My younger brother and I have an age gap of six years. Meaning I was six years old when he was born. And at six years old you have already a pretty good memory.
    Now I want you to picture this: you’re sitting on the white couch at home with your older brother. There is a quiet anticipation slithering through the air, and you feel your chest go thump thump faster than usual. You fiddle with the strawberry shaped button on your long-sleeved shirt with twitchy fingers, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that your older brother is fidgeting. Because you’re both waiting. Waiting to finally hold your...


Blood Bonds and Love Bonds

An adopted child
Not a drop of blood is shared
But family still


My friends make me smile
Whether near, or apart a hundred miles
With untamed senses of humour
No way can they get any cooler
But every day they prove me wrong
Always caring, smart and strong

My family makes me smile
Every moment with them worthwhile
My crazy, insane brothers
And my equally wild mother
Supporting me through the best or worst
I swear with them my heart will burst

The good in people makes me smile
Even though some others may find that vile
This willingness to make others happy
Even if they aren’t, they’d do it gladly
When people give kindness and love
It’s a world I’m lucky to be a part of

Unrelated #5

Words given to use: glockenspiel, ointment, bucket, you are so miserably unmiserable, colleague
Prompted by: nezi_nes

    “You’re going to be fine.” said Jeremy’s mom as he left his house for his weekly glockenspiel lesson.
    Jeremy just sighed as he shouldered his bag, trotting down the entrance steps to the pavement. He dreaded these weekly lessons. He loved the glockenspiel itself, but a couple of other boys in his class seemed to gain a tremendous amount of glee from disrupting the class. The teacher never noticed, and the only thing that allowed him to survive those lessons mentally unharmed was the presence of another glockenspiel enthusiast. Her name was Anna.
    Just as he was about to cross the road, a voice sounded behind and he glanced back, his mouth curling into a smile as he saw who it was. A girl with wild, blazing red hair and startling blue eyes sped over to him, the roller skates on her feet giving...

3 Things

Real Life Week 2 (Prompted by LackingASocialLife): What are 3 things that never fail to make you laugh? 

Right, so the three things that always make me burst out laughing are

1. Watching peacock spiders dance to YMCA (they're tiny and colourful and harmless and adorable)
2. Listening to Kobe Steak by Martin Landh because the song doesn't make much sense and it's so upbeat it makes me laugh no matter what
3. Reading 'The Grimm Conclusion' by Adam Gidwitz. It's hilarious in the sense that the author himself actually plays a part in the story, as some kind of 'voice' that the protagonists can hear. Seriously, give it a go.

Sky Girl

When you were born years ago
your cries woke the sleeping sky
It followed as you grew
through its open sapphire eye
And the day you saw each other
was when you first wished you could fly

Remember to be aware
that when your head is in the clouds
Your feet will be your roots
to the harshly beautiful ground
And when you need to lower yourself
please come back safe and sound

Oh, girl of endless blue
facing that ever-changing land
Hold tight as you climb
arrive at your greatest stand
Dissipate within that freedom
you can finally unclench your hands

The fog will drift in at times
Breathe, my dear, breathe
You’ll find your way back home
to the calling azure breeze
This one won’t let you down
and it sure won’t let you freeze

Child of the Sun and Moon
Dancing, fleeting feet above
Your spirit grants you wings
Purer than the whitest dove
Go after what...

Catharsis (2nd draft)

You’re sitting at the piano. Because Mom told you that you had to practice. But you hate it, because you’ve had a horrible day and all you want to do is to go angrily pound your yellow and purple football into a wall, the texture rough in your hands due to weeks and months of use. You want the rhythmic thumping of the ball, the thunderclap it makes when it comes in contact with the stone barrier.

But you’re stuck with this.

This melodious, annoyingly beautiful instrument that doesn’t benefit your current mood in the slightest.

The ivory keys seem to mock your vexation and as you lay your fingers out, and you feel a giant ball of frustration build up in yourself, growing larger and stronger the longer you stare at those idiotic, blank, pale keys.

A growl emerges from your tight chest and you glare at the jet-black and bone-white rectangles. You want to play? Fine, let’s play....

Unrelated #4

Words given to use: Intoxicating, Cotton candy, Pyramid, Effervescence, Dawn
Prompted by: Luna Lemon

    It was 11pm, and I still was not asleep. I was sitting at my desk with a good twenty centimeter pile of papers to mark in front of me, and I had just finished my first. They were due tomorrow. As I sighed and contemplated calling in sick the next day, my 5 year old daughter scampered in, her pyjamas on backwards.
    “Daddy, Daddy!” she called, cradling her plush toy dog in her arms. “Tell me a bedtime story!” Child I need sleepI groaned internally, but smiled and picked her up, kissing her forehead as I carried her to bed. As she snuggled into the covers, her curiosity of the world got the better of her and she spouted out this question: “Daddy, can you tell me the story of how cotton candy is made?” It was late. I was tired. So of course I...

The Irony of Life

An argument was once held
between two broken souls
And quite suddenly it
spiralled out of control

“You don’t understand!”
Said the senior as he spat
“Of love and of hate,
you’re too ignorant for that!”

He thought he had it right
and that she was too young
Age equals understanding
But of that he was quite wrong

The young girl she stared
A flower in the dark
And opened up to speak
Ready to say her part

“The world isn’t perfect,
And neither is life.
But maybe we can learn
To live without strife.”

The old man and the girl
The painful contrast of life
Opened up to each other
Showing all their buried knives

And when they look at each other
Nothing was the same
But when they looked into their eyes
They each held a broken flame

A flicker of recognition
A spark in the night
A similar encounter
A shining ray of light


You’re sitting at the piano. Because Mom told you that you had to practice. But you hate it, because you’ve had a horrible day and all you want to do is to go angrily pound your yellow and purple football into a wall. You want the rhythmic thumping of the ball, the thunderclap it makes when it comes in contact with the stone barrier.

But you’re stuck with this.

This melodious, annoyingly beautiful instrument that doesn’t benefit your current mood in the slightest.

The ivory keys seem to mock your vexation and as you lay your fingers out, and you feel a giant ball of frustration build up in yourself, growing larger and stronger the longer you stare at those idiotic, blank, pale keys.

A growl emerges from your tight chest and you glare at the jet-black and bone-white rectangles. You want to play? Fine, let’s play.You take the first song in your head, one that is supposed to...

And Away We All...vanish

Life is an endless choice.

What a stupid quote found on Google Images. It’s too bad that now that quote applied directly to me. I truly wish it didn’t, after all it’s rather cumbersome to realize that you’re trapped in a state between life and death. Oh what’s that? You’re confused? Do you want me to explain? Well joke’s on you bub, because I don’t know what’s going on either.

Hmm, how about this. I remember walking back home from the supermarket, a carton of milk in my hand. (We ran out of milk, I wanted cereal. What else was I going to do, pour juice on my cereal? Ugh.) I had just about gotten to halfway of the zebra crossing when I saw a man on a skateboard, holding onto the leash of a pair of bulldogs. He gave me a two-finger salute as he passed by and that’s when I heard someone yell. I don’t know what they...


Golden physalis, swinging carefree
Offered the world, what do you see?

Cover, cover, your unseeing eyes
Blinded now, you can’t tell truth from lies

Enclosing yourself in a brown, paper husk
You sit in swaying darkness from dawn to dusk

Safety, safety, you always choose
If that’s the case, you were born to lose.

Unrelated #3

Words (or phrases in this case) given to use: idol, cancer, cigarettes, I’M THINKING WAIT, that’s a prompt
Prompted by: aggressivebackflip

    Anthony Brown was leaning his back against the wall of the building where they were filming his soon-to-be infamous fight scene. He was an idol in the film society after all, any movie he took part in was considered as great. The stub of a cigarette dangled between the end of his right index and middle finger, and he brought it to his lips to take a nice, long drag.
    Something in his pocket buzzed, and he threw the cigarette butt on the floor, grinding it under his heel as he fished his phone out of his pocket with his hand, the fingernails brown and sickly-looking.
    “Anthony, how are you!”
    “Hi Ma!” he responded in kind, the nicotine he had inhaled accentuating his happiness. “I’m doing great!” Almost without realizing, he plucked out another cancer stick from his chest...

Don't Cry

When he was four
He fell off his bike
His knee had bled
And his cheeks shone as he cried

“Don't cry” said his father
“Don't cry”
“For no one cares about your tears”

When he was six
he lost his favourite toy
His mother didn't see
He was just a little boy

“Don’t cry” she had said
“Don’t cry”
“For no one cares about your tears”

When he was ten
He got teased and pushed and shoved
and when they saw him weep  
They made sure he was unloved

“Don’t cry” they had taunted
“Don’t cry”
“For no one cares about your tears”

When he was fourteen
And he finally broke down
He told the wrong friend
And he was met with a frown

“Don’t cry” he had said
“Don’t cry”
“For no one cares about your tears”

When he was sixteen
And things became too tough
He did what he thought was best
Because he had had...


Race little droplets race
Like tears going down your face
Watch, as they take each other’s place
Race little droplets race

And there’s no time to stop
Still and steady as a rock
Immovable, immune to shock
Remember, there's no time to stop

Pull all the unnecessary wires
Extinguish all the spluttering fires
Take a good look at your desires
See how many of them are liars

To the remaining ones, give chase
Catch a bus, and make haste
Window pane cool against your face
As you watch the little droplets race

Tell me, little creature.

Tell me, little creature.
You that calls yourself
Do you see your face,
and your bruises,

Tell me, little creature.
Why do you try,
To win fights you can’t.
You end up getting hurt,

Tell me, little creature.
What pushes you so.
Could be, could be.
Yes, I think so.
Kind of.

Tell me, little creature.
Help me out.
Where do you get your strength
to endure so much

Tell me, little creature.
Where does it all come from?
What makes your spirit so indomitable.
And strips you of

Tell me, little creature.
Who forged that steel,
Fury and fondness melded as a singularity,
and your howls are

Tell me, little human.
Just why do you fascinate me
From end to end,
I don't think I’ll never

Unrelated #2

Words given to use: Hammer, Love, Dragon, Flag, Balloon
Prompt by: Gabriel Goodwin

Today was just an ordinary Lurdday in Soapland. Oh, that’s right, you don’t know where that is. Let me introduce myself. Hi! My name is Galf, and I’m a flag, not to mention a student at Soapland’s National Secondary School. Soapland is the name of our country. We’re basically a giant slab of rock floating in the sky, but since our underside scatters beams of light and we’re too high up, you’ve never noticed us.

Soapland days are organised into weeks of 6 days each. 4 for work or school, the other two to relax. Lurdday is the first day of the week, followed by Lordday, Lirdday, Lerdday, Lardday and finally Lyrdday. Nice, huh? But enough of that, instead, let me show you my class. Soapland’s population is consisted of various different objects and life forms, so to accommodate us well instead of chairs and tables in...


Some Numbers

Number of times born: 1. Number of books read: 400+. Number of rocks collected: 82. Number of texts sent: 1,951; been replied: 863. Number of Shakespeare plays read: 4. Number of poems written: 72. Number of pens lost: 2. Number of pens ‘lost’ by someone else: 8. Number of broken bones: 2. Number of scraped knees: 93. Number of times carsick: 17. Number of times made own bow: 5; worked: 1. Number of times planted seeds: 64; grown: 43. Number of times sworn at someone: 7; been sworn at: 32. Number of times laughed: 4,367; made someone else laugh: 3,691. Number of post-its used: 443. Number of bikes owned: 4. Number of skateboards owned: 2. Number of footballs owned: 3. Number of live fish caught: 5; kissed: 1. Number of t.v. shows watched: 8. Number of watches ever owned: 2. Number of times got pooped on by a bird on the head: 1. (so gross) Number of hours listening to...

Five Beginnings

Five Beginnings (because I don't know what else to name this)

  1. If you think raining cats and dogs is just an expression then you definitely haven’t seen my life yet
  2. Jeremy Trencher would’ve been alive if he had just made the jump
  3. The day the sun took the moon’s place was the day the world went absolutely bonkers
  4. Everyday Illëa would wake up, get dressed in 7 minutes, eat breakfast in 12 then leave to work on her Harley, except today was not that day
  5. Marshal was just like any other koala, that is if you discount his dental floss obsession


I’ve looked at you
As a whole
But now I finally see you

I’ve looked into yours
And into my soul
And now I finally see you

I’ve seen so many
Dimensions of you
That I had not expected

I’ve looked at you
As a whole
But now I finally see you

I know your smile
I know your fears
And what keeps you up at night

I’ll make you laugh
Forget any tears
Until the skies alight

I’ve looked at you
As a whole
But now I finally see you

Believe me please
You’re beautiful
And now I finally see you


She wears a leather jacket
And it fits her like a second skin
It’s her daytime armour
With it, no one can steal her grin

She wears a silver ear cuff
And it’s been there for a while
Encircling her unpierced ear
You’d think she has a police file

She wears an ox bone necklace
Carved by her brother’s hand
It rests against her beating heart
Under skin that remains untanned

She holds an iron stare
That turns to pure fire when ignited
And even the greatest storm
Backs away when it gets lighted

She’s got long slender fingers
That could pull someone in to dance
Or curl up to break someone’s nose
But only in the right circumstance

She has lips that can switch
From curling up in a joyous laugh
To contorting into a savage snarl
Be careful of her ferocious half

She’s got a feral dying heart
That makes her strike out in love
To protect all...

Upside-down World

I hear the frogs chirping
While the dogs are singing
The cats are laughing
And the crickets sneezing

My mother is my dad
And my dad is my mom
I don’t know what I’m writing
And I’ve got an itch on my palm

The world is upside-down
You can figure out what that means
I’ve been on this website all day
Cool beans

Here's a question for you guys because I'm curious: What is/are your favourite poem(s)?

Mine are: 

1. Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost (discovered by reading a book called The Outsiders by S.E.Hinton it's a great read)

2. One Art by Elizabeth Bishop (we analysed this one in english class and it really stuck with me. It's also written in the format of a villanelle which I find really cool)


What If The Music Stopped? (Prompt by LackingASocialLife)

What if the music stopped?
And we weren’t ready for it

What if the music stopped?
And we only realised after it hit

Imagine you’re walking in the street
And you’re humming to your favourite song
Earphones in as you walk to the beat
And you don’t believe anything could go wrong
Suddenly everything goes offbeat
Before the music of the world shut down
With all that sounds good and sweet
And people stumble to a halt around

What are you going to do then
When the silence starts to creep in close
And suddenly the harsh cries of men
Are the ones you hear the most
And people panic like decapitated hens
Screaming and running uselessly
Like scared rabbits rid of their dens
Creating noise and finishing fruitlessly

Because now your mind is frighteningly mute
And your music has stopped playing
How do you fend off your thoughts of dispute
What will keep you from crying
Your memories of...

Child Narrator

Innocent Ignorance

I don't understand. Mommy said "Don't worry, things will be okay." and Daddy hugged me and said "We still love you, nothing will ever change that." But when they were gone I asked big brother. "How can they love us if they don't even love each other?" 

I don't understand.


We were perfect at the start
Our minds beating with our hearts
If we’d appreciated this work of art
We would’ve never fallen apart

Oh but our storms dragged us too far
And I wasn’t there to heal your scars
You had vanished from my radar
And I thought that you said au revoir

But we found each other again
Like our fates were bound by chains
Your eyes had shattered with hopeless pain
And I knew mine looked just the same

We tried, we did, to start once more
And our efforts collapsed onto the floor
Because we had nothing left in store
We cried, we hit and then we swore

We carelessly threw up iron barriers
While we thought we were being warriors
Pretending we couldn’t be happier
The disease of loss, we were both carriers

I don’t think we’re the same people
Who had laid on grass and watched eagles
In some ways we’re both cripples

Vanity's Ego

Welcome, welcome
To the Annual Vanity Fair
Where everyone is fake
And personalities are made of air

Let me give you a tour
I don’t care what you think
Popularity above all!
It determines the price of your drink

Would you like some snacks?
Oh no don’t eat that
I decide what’ll happen to you
And believe me, that’s that

See that’s the whiny corner
Where you tell us all your woes
That’s the fashion stand
We’ll be judging all your clothes

To your left is the gossip section
And that’s the biggest of them all
We’ll ruin poor Samantha’s life
And sigh as the boys play ball

What’s that you say
You have to leave?
Aw don’t be stupid
We’re not that naive

The rule here is simple
And you better listen carefully
Either join us here today
Or we’ll make you forcefully


What do you mean?

You won’t obey

Don’t turn around!



Who's The Insane One Here?

I was always told I was crazy
And that I was a complete loon
My thoughts were defined as bizarre
I lived my life on the moon

(why would I come down?)

I knew I wasn’t like other girls
I never cared about who like whom
Or what Janice said at break
I didn’t invite other people to my room

(who would come anyway?)

When I was towards the end of primary
And girls started to form little groups
I didn’t have a group I could join
So I had to make sure my shoulders didn’t droop

(head up, straight spine and you’ll be fine)

I blew all the others away in P.E class
And the girls hated me for it
That the boys would always pick me first
I’m pretty sure they threw a few fits

(I quite enjoyed that)

I never cared about gossip
I found it a waste of time
But to all other classmates
Thinking that...

Dead Leg

There’s a trick my brothers like to play
And I admit I do it too
It’s completely harmless
And happens without a clue

There was this one time however
We were walking together
One distracts, the other sneaks up
I should have known better

He knees the side of my thigh
And I fall down with a curse
“Dead leg!” he runs away laughing
I try not to smile “You’re the worst!

Given First Line

What Our (unfulfilled) Wishes Turn Into

“Ships at a distance have every man's wish on board.”
Or that was what my grandfather used to say to me
“Every person’s secret desires, and bottled up wish hoards.”
I was too young to care, “Grandpa let me be!”

The metaphors dancing in his twinkling eyes
Contrasted the similes sprouting from his ever-smiling lips
“Darling, remember that you decide how time flies.”
And I would giggle as I drank my milk, with extra-careful sips

He would always talk in riddles, twisting up his words
In incongruous yet strangely beautiful ways
And with time I knew that they would slowly unfurl
But to a young mind they were nothing but an endless maze

However he never stopped telling me about his wishing ships
Whenever we went fishing, or a short trip to the beach
Sitting on his lap as I listened to the water drip
And I knew that nothing he said was just a figure of speech

“My dearest...


A fox and a vixen
Were sitting on a wall
They turned on each other
And caused the other’s fall

The fox and the vixen
Now both on different sides
Couldn’t get back up
They were blocked by their own pride

Someone quote me on this

Doing math when you're really tired is like trying to stab a fruitcake with a dull knife. Things. Just. Don't. Go. In.

(my brain that is)

Cotton Head

Night skies, calm my mind
Steady thoughts, stop, rewind

Pattering rain, keeps me sane
Slow down thoughts, languid brain

Drooping skies and heavy clouds
Coat us all in a blue-grey shroud

Wordless music, swaying head
Shut up eyes, don’t think ahead

Lone twitter, entangled feelings
Rocking trees, invisible ceiling

Dripping blue, cool down my face
Lips turn up, I love this place

Why Stop Now?

What happened to all the grown-ups
Walking in the world
What makes them stand so rigid
And yet their spines so curled

Where did all that spirit go
And all that childish laughter
After all it’s only childish
When it’s no longer sought after

When did they stop questioning
All the wonders of the Earth
Do you know why grass is green?
Or what caused the absence of your mirth?

Why do I have to be so serious?
Shake hands and smile politely
Why do I have to restrain my grins?
And keep them quiet inside me

What happened to you all?!
Who took your souls away!
Or did you cause this yourselves
And wear them down, day by day

Well I’m not going to be like you
And dear reader, I hope you won’t either
I’m going to stick to my simple pleasures
Crunching ice cubes from the freezer

I’ll keep on dancing in the rain
And I’ll love...

Taking A Bite Of The Tiger

Take a bite of tiger
And swallow a piece of shark
Let loose a roar of thunder
And watch them scramble apart

Chew on a slice of lion
Then munch on lump of bear
Give a stare that rivals lightning
They’ll receive a nasty scare

Gnaw at a wedge of scorpion
Followed by a hunk of rhino
Turn your expression as cold as hail
See them tremble below

But nibble at a share of koala
And sample a taste of deer
Smile a smile of warmest light
And we’ll have nothing to fear

Inside The Dodecahedron

Let’s take life apart for a while
And focus on just one item
Let’s talk about reputations
Down to the very atom

I had a shower thought the other day
See, it was about how everyone
Had not one but multiple reputations
And no reputation is the same, none

Let’s say you were inside a dodecahedron
A polyhedron with twelve different faces
You could see everything at once
To you, there are no unknown places

But reputations are each a different face
Sometimes a combination of two
And for every single reputation
People only know a side of you

Sometimes a new face is made up
That’s another step for reputations
Funny thing is when it comes to that
We’re not the ones making the decisions

So think about it for a minute
When it comes to you as a whole
Is there anyone who truly knows
All the corners of your soul?

Midnight Chauffeur

I don’t know where my dreams take me
That’s up to my Midnight Chauffeur
Everyone has their own
And journeys are usually a blur

I’ve never heard his name, nor seen his face
And he appears at the randomest moments
He whisks me away when I least expect it
It’s so easy to suddenly lose focus

He decides where I end up
But I don’t think he fully knows what he’s doing
Because sometimes I have recurring dreams
And end up where the next dream’s brewing

I don’t blame him if I have nightmares
After all, he’s just doing his job
It’s not his fault if I wake in the middle of the night
Or that when I do my heart throbs

Sometimes he brings me to wonderful places
Where I meet all my family and friends
And we’ll laugh and dance and sing
And I’ll cherish it before it ends

Other times he accidentally drops me off
Or maybe...


Summer comes every year
And my family all meet up
I’m assaulted by my cousins
Too many to round up

They all clamour for a story
And I have to make them wait
Until bedtime finally comes
Careful not to take the bait

Concocting story after story
One turns quickly to seven
For all my eager cousins
Hush, it’s half past eleven

Give me ten seconds
I’ll let them choose their characters
I’ll weave up a tale for kings
Let me be the narrator

Or give me three key words
Objects, animals, people
I can cook up a tale so wild
I’ll be Roald Dahl’s equal

And they’ll listen enraptured
As that bold knight gets captured
But out comes the dragon!
To defeat that evil badger

I’ll tell them about revolting animals
And talk about courageous birds
I can make lions shrink and grow
And bring up snarky worms

I hear them laugh along
With ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s of awe


A hedgehog is spiny
It can curl into a ball
Provided it doesn’t
Roll into a wall

That would be terrible
It’s spines would all stick
They would latch on and stay
Like an annoying tick

But that’s alright
It can crawl away
Unroll itself
And come back another day

Permanent Damage

He called out
In the dark
His arms were spread

He opened his eyes
Thought there were
Truth, in those lies
And tore himself,

The pieces were all there
None, worse for wear
But they just watched
Out far

On his knees
He tried to rebuild
His life again
Get a fresh start

He did all he could
But the one thing
He couldn’t fix
Was his heart


Hurt each other
a hundred fold
Is it money
Or is it gold

To make passion
Turn to greed
Stoke a fire
Plant a seed

A seed that’s neither
round nor smooth
A fire that doesn’t
Burn nor sooth

From where all the
Dark things stem
Unravel the night
Sort through the mayhem

And when you come out
Your world will be chaos
Can anyone forgive
Your stupid games of ring toss

For the light in the tunnel
Is rapidly fading
and when you come through
Who will be waiting

A friend or two
Maybe that’s all
But what do you do
When they’re behind your wall

They can’t hear you knock
And they can’t hear you scream
As the bonds you’ve been building
Starts tearing at the seams

It’s almost too late
And you’ve run out of luck
When you see what you’ve lost
It hits you like a truck

So lift up your wall
And let them come...

Consequences Of An Over-Bloated Ego

He puffs out his chest
That proud cocky rooster
That turns his nose down
At every little loser

He turns his back
Lets the others twitter
Little does he know
The loser’s in the mirror

Life Lessons

Why don’t I say a few words
Before you realize them yourself
You can forget them no sweat
And chuck them right back on shelf

Lesson one is to rely on yourself
Not everyone in the worlds cares
Not everyone will be here for you
And not everyone will see how you fare

Lesson two is to help yourself
Some people will step and squash you
You’re allowed to take what you want
It’s only fair you get your part too

Lesson three is you’re worth it
I don’t care what you say
I don’t care what you think about yourself
Just remember you have a reason to stay

Lesson four is to get back up
And to try harder every time
Don’t always give people what they want
Never give up mid-climb

Lesson five is to stay open
Keep your mind and heart ready
Do your best to understand
That way life isn’t too unsteady

Lesson six is to...

Broken Box

You have a nice wooden box
It’s all polished smooth
On the outside, flawless
No need to improve

You know it’s a box
But there is no way in
It does seem quite hollow
Where do you begin

You try pressing on the sides
And tapping various locations
Break your nails trying
Tiny blood-red carnations

And now you’re getting frustrated
Because the stupid box won’t open
You weren’t meant to see inside
It wasn’t you it had chosen

But you force with all your might
And throw it to the floor
Swing your leg and kick it around
Until you can’t breathe no more

You reluctantly pick it up again
Hoping for a difference
Something inside rattles
Still you ignore the significance

But the box still won’t open
And it seems to have shrunk
“Whatever” you say as you bin it
“It was just a piece of junk.”

Life Lessons

Why don’t I say a few words
Before you realize them yourself
You can forget them no sweat
And chuck them right back on shelf

Lesson one is to rely on yourself
Not everyone in the worlds cares
Not everyone will be here for you
And not everyone will see how you fare

Lesson two is to help yourself
Some people will step and squash you
You’re allowed to take what you want
It’s only fair you get your part too

Lesson three is you’re worth it
I don’t care what you say
I don’t care what you think about yourself
Just remember you have a reason to stay

Lesson four is to get back up
And to try harder every time
Don’t always give people what they want
Never give up mid-climb

Lesson five is to stay open
Keep your mind and heart ready
Do your best to understand
That way life isn’t too unsteady

Lesson five is to...

Grey Matter Excursion

There are fleeting scraps
Drifting in my mind
Catch them quick
Tell me what you find

Maybe my thought lines
The written and the not
Watch my two line rhymes
I’ll show you what I’ve got

I’ll give you the backstage pass
Come behind the curtain
You won’t be let down
When it comes to that, I’m certain

What do you want to see?
I’ll show you what you want
Is it my memories?
(maybe that morning croissant.)

But come on! come on!
Welcome to the show!
Take a peek inside
A display of all I know

The world of Imagination
is always a good start
Then we’ll go to Logic
Easy to tell apart

What’s that you say?
That dark corner over there?
Oh don’t worry about that,
it’s not important, I swear.

I know, what about weird facts!
I have a vault of those
Did you know ninety-nine percent
of people can’t lick their elbows?

Our time is...

Yan At The Beach

There once was a young man named Yan
Who went to the beach to get tanned
He fell fast asleep
Till his alarm went beep
And saw he was as pink as a ham

Then came along his friend Dan
Who came and saw a pink man
“Who are you!” he said
“I don’t know you!”, he fled
But didn’t realize it was Yan


An oval shape
with red flesh inside
Slowly cracked open
As kids watch beside

Water dribbles out
Caught by hungry mouths
Parents laugh
Ushering them out

5 half moons cut
Black seeds disappear
Water trickling down
Resembling happy tears

Summer comes finally
And with it the heat
Countered by that one fruit
A pleasure to eat

Years pass
And places change
But the watermelon’s still here
So nothing’s too strange

4 half moons cut
Once here and once there
But the goodness is still present
So the kids don’t care

It won’t matter where it is
Or who is around
The giggle-inducing fruit
Drowns any sorrows to be found


As you stare
Upon this splendor
Of flour, salt,
Baking soda and sugar

With eggs and milk
Vanilla extract and butter
All that’s enough
To make your stomach flutter

Your mouth waters
At this very sight
And you know it will be
A delectable delight

That crispy softness
Of the waffle itself
Followed by nutella
From the jar on the shelf

Whipped cream is next
Melting on your tongue
And in your mind
A ray of joy has sprung

As you swallow the last bite
And your mind seems to soar
You ask that burning question
“Is there any more?”

Crazy Sugar High (or What Happens When You Eat Too Many Mentos in Physics Class)

Class just started
Two more hours
Enter dream world
Falling flowers

Feeling dull
A little bored
Look in bag
Where candy’s stored

Pull some out
Sneaky sneaky
Open packet
Smiling, cheeky

Two quick bites
Then five more
Head goes funny
Watch the floor

Laugh out loud
Feel the buzz
Ears feel like
Surrounded by fuzz

Don’t stop now
Barely started
Hold on tight
Till it’s departed

Switch for headache
Tongue of wood
But giggle instead
‘Cause it felt good

The Coin

Monday morning on the road
I passed a shopkeeper who would goad
People to buy his magic coins
Cheaper than his sirloins

One day just to shut him up
I put a banknote in his cup
He gasped at me, looked up in shock
Stared a bit and then he gawked

From his box I took a coin
Ignored all the sirloins
I walked away, from his face
Walking quickly, keeping pace

Back at home I inspected the piece
As gold as gold as gold could be
With swirls and whirls and patterns on top
Intricate designs, no squares or blocks

It was beautiful, it caught my attention
But if I didn’t do my homework, I’d get a detention
I went upstairs, I brought it with me
In front of my homework, I felt like a pygmy

“I wish that homework was all done
Packed in my bag, completely gone.”
I went away, to go to pee
And when I...



When the ground was wrenched from his feet - he learned to fly

Open Prompt

The "Packet of Chips" Dilemma

Now that I have your attention, let me just explain what I mean by the "Packet of Chips" dilemma. The name stems from a classic example of this case, one that I myself have witnessed on many an occasion. 

Imagine this. You are at school, and the bell for morning break has just rang. You feel overcome by a sense of relief, because even though it is morning you are already exhausted. But that's when you suddenly remember the packet of chips you stashed in your bag last night, making sure your mother was unaware of your guilty pleasure. With a smile on your lips you approach your locker, and the minute you finish readying your bag for the next classes you pull out that glorious, tantalizing bag of crispy goodness. Giddy with excitement, you pull open the two sides and the delicious smell of the snack hits you full on, saliva already starting to build up in your mouth....

25 Words

A Careful Balance

Handspring with somersaults and twists. Land on the beam, toes grip tight. One last cartwheel and almost there. Foot slips, open, parted lips. Crack. Black.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018


Are humans really so pure
All filled with grandeur
Do we really have all the rights
To flick the switch turn off the lights

Does it exceed us?
This hungry human greed
Does it control us?
This wanting to be seen

We think we are so great
All controllers of Fate
We let the others fall
But we, we deserve it all

Please tell me who led us
Into this arrogant way
Who was the one
that led us astray?

Or are we born like this
With our moralities cracked
Maybe it's something we learn
by watching others act?

It comes so naturally
For some of us
I wonder how they manage
Calmly breaking other’s trust

And if we are all capable
Of such hurtful things
What makes one a lout
And the other a king

I think it may be too late
For us to change our ways
When there is an opportunity
We’ll just set it ablaze