nezi_nes

Hong Kong

~on an indeterminate hiatus~

Published Work

childhood-ing

childhood-ing 
is looking into the past
as you pass the years yourself

childhood-ing
is going High 
low 
higheR 
gripping the steel chain links
as you pass today through the distant creaks of moving silver

childhood-ing
is the first crunch of a Nestle coco chex
from the clings of cereal on bowl
doing the same as you are now 
but today it’s just weetabix for breakfast

childhood-ing
is that time in september you said happy birthday!
to someone who was born in may
and you turned away in shame and red cheeks
as today you send out cakes on text

childhood-ing
is that time you said I don’t like you
to someone who did you wrong
and you admire the guts you had back then
as today you crack your knuckles and grumble in vain
“yes, boss.”

childhood-ing 
is telling your mum, alright, beat me then
then crying at the smack and stern correction
as tonight you look at your own...

tragical-comical-historical-pastoral

the looking-glass views confound me
in its rippling reflections carries a sweet, unplaced melancholy
the same, the same
but all the more twisted and warped

enthusiasm and camaraderie palpable in the air
i could’ve mistaken their bodies for mine
wrapped in their lovingly embroidered dresses
but this time, the joy is not mine to share

a flurry of beads and bright fabric this way and that
flashes to the past this way and that
faces familiar from an age ago
were they really the same ones?

and yet, here i reside
on the other side
settled into spectatorship
their joy eluding my fingertips

where in this process i was once drenched in,
i am now immune to, shut off from
the infectious buzz—;

i have drawn my conclusion.
this show i am not a part of anymore.

may flowers are lukewarm

may flowers are lukewarm
for they belong in a season of mystery
they just bloom and say, 
“hi-hi! why do i care?”
they still give you sunshine
even when you don’t ask for it
intrude into humid january gloom
condemn it with their unforgiving bright faces
and suddenly it’s hot in may

may flowers are lukewarm

did you ever?

we were so close in my head
then what happened i can’t understand
was the fabric of our friendship 
weaved from words lost in translation?
was the bond holding us
fragile as a strand of spider silk?
the colours in my film-roll head
in yours, faded, the shade of forgotten?

when you pop up in my thoughts
there used to be a smile on my face
seems like that dream was too high a hope
and now that smile is tinged with shadow

i aimed for the moon but shot a boomerang
and now it hurts twice
to see a friend i cherished walk away, away

one last thing before i say goodbye
i am dying to know
did we ever see eye to eye?
did you ever, even for a second
love me 
the way i did you?

liar on my shoulder #escapril

i don’t want to hear the lies you tell me
you are too harsh
we are so close you sit on my shoulder
yet 
every small thing i do
you accompany with a barrage of criticism
WHY DID YOU DO THAT?
OF COURSE THEY DON’T UNDERSTAND, YOUR BRAIN WORKS SO WEIRDLY
WHY CAN’T YOU EXPRESS YOUR THOUGHTS PROPERLY
WHAT KIND OF QUESTION WAS THAT?
YOU’RE BEING SO AWKWARD JUST STOP

hey. why don’t YOU stop.
i don’t need your negativity shadowing me
i want to be gentle with myself
i want to dispel the cloud of low self-esteem you create
and realise that this is not who i am
you.do.not.determine.who.i.am.
liar, get away from me

indebted #escapril

gushhhhhhughhhhsshhhh
is the sound of stomach contents hitting the drain
and the constant uneasiness of when 
the next overthrow will come
a lurCH
go, go quickly!
a grateful hand leading 
quick breaths and glazed, darting eyes

one left, one right
rubbing and tapping and reassuring
another smearing drops of bak fa yau 
from the minibus man
under my nose. haha.

a kind, kind stranger
seeing me kneel
offered me more bak fa yau
one of Hong Kongers’ must-haves
told me to slather it on my belly
advice
she stayed until...success
another round of vomit
non-stop m goi saai lei

a pack of chewing gum even!
umbrellas accompanying the fallen in the rain
patience. must have been hours of nothing
buying plastic bags
slipping in tissues in my backpack
and carrying it in my place

even in my dimmed consciousness
these actions, these words did not go unnoticed

it’s moments of humanity like these that make people 
shine
and their...

processing #escapril

<HARD FACTS> 

THINGS THAT DO NOT BRING NOURISHMENT:
IMPOSTER SYNDROME
OVERTHINKING EVERY WORD. EVERY ACTION —> UNNECESSARY ANXIETY
RUMINATING OVER THINGS PAST EXPIRATION DATE

THINGS THAT DO BRING NOURISHMENT:
FOCUSING ON OTHERS I.E GET OUT OF HEAD
SHARING. VULNERABILITY
REMEMBERING TIMES INVOLVING POSITIVE IMPACT

</HARD FACTS>

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the final bow #escapril

‘twas a sweet goodbye
full of belly laughter
deafening balloon pops
and eyes that hold so much love
i wish i had been more in the moment
instead of inside my head

now wash me away
to the shores of a not-so-distant land
same but not the same
an end of this world
an arrival of another
brimming with experiences to come

chasms and liminals #escapril

swinging through branches
i let go of one  
——— 
and catch another?

afloat
breathing air but
———
on water
this is my liminal space

initiation cultivation deepening
a jump
———
across chasm(s?inthefuture?)
this is my liminal space
i wonder how they feel

i’m in the dark room
i’m a film roll
between crushings and
small revelations
punctuated equilibrum
every
———
day
this is my liminal space

free but
———
waiting
for the day to come
already but not yet
this is our liminal space

chasms and liminals #escapril

swinging through branches
i let go of one  
——— 
and catch another?

afloat
breathing air but
———
on water
this is my liminal space

initiation cultivation deepening
a jump
———
across chasm(s?inthefuture?)
this is my liminal space
i wonder how they feel

i’m in the dark room
i’m a film roll
between an acorn
and a giant oak
small revelations
punctuated equilibrum
every
———
day
this is my liminal space

free but
———
waiting
for the day to come
already but not yet
this is our liminal space

what is your name? #escapril

a name is both
a bowtie on a present
and an anvil in your throat

pull off the bowtie and the ribbon unravels
but the essence remains
open it and you’ll find still
their background thoughts beliefs idiosyncrasies
names decorate; they mean nothing

but sometimes a name
carries such weight that
whenever you hear it
WHAM a gust of memory in the guts
hits you full on
it can send butterflies
or an anvil 
down your throat, your stomach
a bright glow of sweetness 
or a tinge of foreign metal
a smile
or a cringe
a name you can dream about
or a name you run away from in dreams

so a name is both
a bowtie on a present
and an anvil in your throat 

that place is alive in love #escapril

on friday
the formation of memories
of the last few hours
precisely begins from a brisk walk
through the sodium lamp streets
at eleven p.m.

left alone in thought
my mind plays a reel of sporadic vignettes 
of the faces of people
in the midst of their talking, their singing
conversations
both vulnerable heart-to-heart and silly
laughs all around
wisdom ringing from a mic or
flowing from the lips of a friend
drums drowning out cries of song
playful jabs shouted from across the room
staunch competition because it’s game time
hugs, just hugs. every one of them
even football! sometimes

that place is alive in love
and i am grateful
and humbled
and in awe of
their love for the great one
every single time

i dream and the world trembles #escapril

i dream and the world trembles
buildings rise as the ground cracks
leaving the status quo in shambles
and there’s no looking back

an emporium of holograms
a plethora of possibilities
all i could do 
this
or this
or this

but something rings hollow
no;
my dream is not to envision myself
far away in the future
my dream is a continuous flow
my dream is to dream
my dream is to grow
day by day
week by week
from an acorn
into a giant oak

my dream is to unfurl
i dream and the world trembles

jasmine rice #escapril

sprawls of lush, waterlogged fields
nurture billions of grains by the seasons
and one by one
they are hastily collected over bent backs
pounded until their husks waft out

packaging
vacuuming
journeying
across countries
continents, even

bought in a plastic bag
air-tight and rock-solid
punch it and your knuckles instantly regret it
at home, transferred into an ancient box
hidden in the shadows of the floor cupboard
while whiffs of stale translucence assault your nose

scooped and poured into a cooker
SHAAAAAAASHHhhhhh
immersed in water and steamed with love

and when i open the lid
a rush of hot, scented air greets me
clouding my glasses with a whiff of jasmine
and my neck inches back
to avoid the plume emanating from
a pure mass of fluffy white

the story ends in my mouth
where soft, long ovals
dissolve into goodness

doomsday #escapril

one may day
far, far away
on silvermine bay

a fish fillet
from norway
decided to stay
for a day
with his fiancee
a manta ray

during the day
when she was away 
he saw a blue jay
in a cafe
and he said hey

he wanted to play
some piquet
and dance ballet
so they did until midway
when he ordered a tea-tray
the fiancee came back and nay
she asked herself what is happening today
and seeing them so gay
this gave way
to utter dismay

he did betray
his fiancee
with satay
and creme brulee
this souffle
sent their marriage to decay
that’s all i’ll say
of this tragic day
in may
on silvermine bay
(it was also her birthday)

the three-year Mark

today
three years ago
(three?)
a soul vanished

how can the spark of life 
spread so much love
and simultaneously
end in such frustration
by the bullets of a—
(a pause and a breath.)
arms open wide
giving a hug one last time

wrenched away from her partner in crime
of eighteen years
was twenty-two
four minus one, and then another
gaping holes in their souls,
zeroes

joy
and laughter 
goof
the “poof”
just adorableness
bathroom videos
and cows
and spoders
skrillex
link is always in green...except in the fire temple and the water temple in Ocarina of Time 
but we did not need to know that
“be stupid. be dumb. be funny.”
but above all...
random.
BYE!

see yu soon, pooplet.

free #escapril

come out
old ways

breathe in new life

all things have ultimately led to this
moment
your endless love envelops me
it has no bottom nor wall around it

as my knees crash
i surrender my past
my all
i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m
so sorry jesus

you take in the broken, the hurting, the empty
you have come to wash the feet of sinners
ones who shouldn’t deserve your grace

your love gave me a chance
you showed me a light at the end
no matter the vacuous ways i have pursued
you have forgiven them
praise the lord
that i can be saved from the consequences
of my greed
of my pride
of my jealousy
of my desire for acceptance of man
i am finally free

we are free
and we joyfully carry out your will
there will be many hardships but
they are nothing
compared to the moment we worship you in person
in heaven
we are...

who dat #escapril

the rap beats vibrate across my body
friends slow-shouting, even though they’re
only half a feet away
chill times as i clink my glass with the mates
and sing half-assed to the tunes

hey who’s that lil girl over there
oh, a wall-hugger
a quiet one, probably awkward
i wonder what she’s doing here

.
.
.
.
.
#escapril day 11. Prompt: “not from your perspective”. If it wasn’t clear, this is from the perspective of a random guy in a party.

juggling #escapril

femininity— 
i used to think it was only for girly-girls
the fluorescent pink lip gloss
the “cute” multicoloured tubs of varnish
the unevenly cut drab of clothing;
supposedly a fashion statement 

i used to scoff silently at
girls chattering about makeup
what i declared at twelve
“the most useless thing in the planet”

i once kicked a ball called “feminine” 
far, far away
not bothering to look where it landed
it could’ve even sailed past the fence for all i knew

now 
i am in the process of
searching
retrieving the dust-laden ball
from under the bleachers
and one day i hope
i will be sitting on that football field
juggling it on the tips of my studded shoes
slowly embracing 
tap-tap-tapping into its power
elegance
empathy
compassion
and with a final kick
send it into the goal that is
self-acceptance

paddles #escapril

sunburnt red
raw skin glaring on white-toothed smiles
sat under striped white-red-white tarp
shiny lips from yellow rice
t-shirts swaying with the music
sipping on fresh brown iced tea
clear ice cubes spread on sunscreen-lathered noses

earlier
yellow paddles on yellow kayaks
in-out-in arms straining
looking out
an expanse of rippling blue and sliver flashes
flakes of green on undulating hills
under a white-hot sun
cotton clouds dotting pastel blue
cackling splashes of water on unfortunate victims
intermittent roars of laughter on orange doughnut buoys
cream-grey seashells pricking unprotected feet--
hopping on dijon mustard sand for relief
sunscreen mist wafting into noses

connection from afar #escapril

i’d angle my head and stare
out the window
conjuring up a hazy someone

faceless
but he’d be smiling this smile
and looking at me
as if he were uncovering my soul
and musing wistfully on its contents 
he’d say
“i know...”
enough to mean a million different things
but somehow we’d know exactly what it meant

then disappear! dreamy musing gone

you’ll be there one day, will you?

circle #escapril

sunrise peak til black once more
rhythm stands as old as lore

noon by noon i make my toil
soon my blood heats to a boil

every night before i fall
drowsy musings i recall

many new days might i see 
yet sunrise shall be my decree

nostalgia #escapril

too rosy to believe
too tempting not to

steadily 
compressing into your chest
until a tear appears

it infiltrates your lungs
inundating you with swirls
of memory 

a sharp breath
shakes your eyes into focus

and all you are left with is
estrangement

heart
in limbo

back to nature #escapril

back to life
back to reality


in the all-consuming haze of exams
i have forgotten what it’s like to be outside
to just 
stand and breathe
on the peak of a hiking trail
to let down my long hair
and let its myriad strands sway in the breeze
to wipe sweat off my head
as i glaze my eyes past lego blocks to shimmering blue

how i long for it now
i think i shall make plans with myself
to walk along dirt paths 
and feel the grinding of rocks under my soles
this is what i had envisioned
a lone hiker
with nature to herself
shouting on a mountaintop
washing off herself the coal of the city with 
small streams on glistening rocks

anxiety #escapril

it’s a tricky thing to understand
let alone detect
a micro-explosion only you witness
the entire world shudders
and yet
the others
remain in their seats
talk and whine
walk fine
no sign
of terror
so it must be you

incorporate music #escapril

worship music carries a certain stigma
cheesy, seemingly sloppy lyrics in adoration
of what some might call an imaginary entity

i for one, used to detest the monotony and predictability
of its “simple” love songs
made only by deluded fabricators

but when i listen
i hear
i feel
i remember
my life
and his grace

long silent struggles
grapples and tugs this way that way
is this real how can it be
challenge after challenge i am relentless
many
tears
and breathless prayers

times where i say this is it there cannot not be a god
times where i bite back this does not make sense at all

yet i come back to the worship incorporate
surrender all
through songs he speaks
i want to dance
and move 
and cry
in adoration of not just my saviour
but the god that loves all 
and no exceptions

the battle is far from over
but the spirit in me does not give...

april showers #escapril

ah, the metaphorical doom and gloom
ushered in by forecasting winds

i am grateful for april showers
for making me so miserable 
that the moment i rip the squelch off my wrinkled feet
dive into the dry comfort of a sofa blanket
i heave a sigh of warmth and cosiness
and after a moment i look out to say, ha! to the silver glitter

other days, still showering
i stare below at the brown and black circles
peppered with the occasional pink, yellow, lime green
and stare above at the greygreygreyANGRYgrey
and listen to the shhhhhhh
passive but i know of their grumblings, both sky and pedestrian

other days, still showering
i stare at the trees doubling down in laughter
whenever it pours their echoes roar in cha-cha
i think the rain tickles them, old friends
they relish it and i smile...

a fresh start #escapril

fresh starts spark 
future possibilities
they are oil droplets in motion
membranes the boundaries of coherence
breaking and absorbing here and there
indefinite
for the moment
but i trust that it will all emerge
into substance--
the brain is merely gliding 
in the waters of the unconscious
biding its time

i gather the senses 
in preparation for opportunity

so it is in defiance that
my fresh start
is this:
beginning april prompts
set for june
on the second-last day of may

Lay it all down

3 men and one girl
To each their own
Story
Struggles
Hopes
Staring into the unceasing bobs of the murky green-blue waters
Of the Pearl River Delta
As they sky turns from grey to dirty blue
And the lamp next to us switches on.
One sitting, smoking, drinking.
And as I turn my eyes to the right once again,
The can from his hand has disappeared.
I glimpse a silver cylinder floating amongst the styrofoam lunchboxes and discoloured VITA lemon tea. They seem to be laughing. Ah-ah-ah, swaying to and fro on their aimless journey. They’ve given up. I look back and forth: can, man. He notices. He turns away, mocking the sea and I.
To my left, a grille, a fence. Beyond, another man, smoking, fishing, thinking probably nothing.
Escaping something
Waiting
From his hand drops a short cigarette butt. Meeting water, it extinguishes and disappears.
My attention doubles back to the man on the right. He sings while...

Like father, like daughter (#N.dialogue)

“Daddy?”

“Mmyes, Katie?”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m pasting some spreadsheet data onto my document for work. What are you writing, my dear?”

“I’m uhh, doing the times and divide things on my notebook. I don’t like it, Daddy. I don’t like doing the times and divide because I can’t remember what 9 times anything is! And that means I can’t remember what anything divided by 9 is! Also we just learned what these are called, there’s a number on top and a number on the bottom and there’s a line between them, and it’s called uhh…..a …. ah… Oh I forgot already! We just did it today!” She huffed.

He couldn't help but let a charmed chuckle slip past his lips. “Go on, I know you’ve got it in you somewhere. You’re thinking and that’s good. Do you know what it sounds like? What does the first letter start with?”

Katie’s face scrunched over, her brows a furious...

At Home

Calm and windy rain

Diagonal rain silently smearing the window panes
Multicoloured moving spots along the streets
Crisscrossing in a mute choreography of entrances and exits
A bubbling kettle atop dark dull metal, water drops
expanding billowing racing to the top
Soft grey light infiltrating the pale blues and dark browns 
of walls and floors
Gradients and hues of subdued colours, stoic shelves
The dusty white fan stand across the room
The dustbin on an expanse of empty brown waxed tiles
The wooden ladder a sketch study on shadows and angles and worn edges
Wind from the gap in the window stirring the air with invigorating freshness
Soft covers wrapping my legs in a warm, familiar hug
Complete silence and peace in the calm and windy rain
This is the type of Saturday morning I'd want to stay in forever
 

Guys I don't even know what I'm writing please give it a name for me

There’s always this essence that I find so intriguing in certain people
Fictional included
This possession of strange character
Of a reserve of quiet strength, of demureness, of wit
Somehow they always seem to be looking out of windows
Portals into their twisting silvery knots
It’s their go-to action, a morning coffee, almost
Angry? Sad? Contemplating the possibilities of 11 dimensions in this multi-infini-verse?
You’ll never know...yeeeahh Mr Man
Because they are ever the most mysterious people indeed

I want to get in their head
Be that girl staring, but then again not really staring
Far away into a distant land of shadows and dancing images of who-knows-what
To see the magic happening
They’re literally creating something out of nothing
And then jump to another Möbius strip of something completely unrelated, but not really
Something along the lines of
1. (Something)
2. (Something else)
But very artistically, you know?
We mere mortals think linearly, but they? Woah nononono they go...

A slave arguing with its master

It’s end-january. The sluggish time of year where sparks had long fizzled off
“Where’s all the new me’s at”
Coming from the ever-slouching couch dweller
Well let me tell you about now. It may explain

A jolt and then hanging hanging
Are you still there yes
Will you be there depends
Clutching
Grabbing at what?
Impulse flurry itch
Except there was no steam to begin with
No lush river of floating possibilities to be tied squarely onto parallel parking spaces

Oh what to do!
Dissonance. The passion is there
There is just an elusive mist
A floater that oils off my cupped hands trying to sift
Like pinching an egg shell in white
Filtering unknown grit
to be examined in the bath water

No! I won’t let it
But it has a mind of its own
The newly unsettled will not rest so quickly
It had just tasted the cloak of imagination
“Who touched me?”
Now with this power I...

Snooze (#23foraarushi)

As she plumped onto the sofa, 
dangling feet slowly losing momentum, 
soft blues playing in the background, 
she let herself dissolve into dreams.

A Cosmos of Nothing

A bead of sweat wrung from parched towel
The river runs dry

Cornucopia encased in diamond
A comical cliffhanger

I can’t crack it open
No matter how much I strain my bruised palm
Against the table
There the unforgiving expanse of
White
Remains


零。


I stir the air

Like father, like daughter

“Daddy?”

“Mmyes Katie?”

“What are you doing now?”

“I’m pasting some spreadsheet data onto my document for work. What are you writing, my dear?”

“I’m uhh, doing the times and divide things on my notebook. I don’t like it, Daddy. I don’t like doing the times and divide because I can’t remember what 9 times anything is! And that means I can’t remember what anything divided by 9 is! Also we just learned what these are called, there’s a number on top and a number on the bottom and there’s a line between them, and it’s called uhh…..a …. ah… Oh I forgot already! We just did it today!” She huffed.

His slow smile turned into a chuckle. “Go on, I know you’ve got it in you somewhere. You’re thinking and that’s good. Do you know what it sounds like? What does the first letter start with?”

Katie’s face scrunched over, her brows a furious representation of her inner cogs...

Unseen

One grain of sand
In the bright blue bucket of a boy
Motionless
The smallest unit of time’s erosion
Residing in an ocean of blue plastic
Semi-crammed into an obscure cupboard

Who would have thought
the boy in his naivety
would so cruelly isolate that lone grain
from its quintillion-strong family

And now being condemned to stay there
Forever worthless

Unseen
Untouched
Unloved

Inconspicuous, disoriented
Denied existence and powerless to stop it

Does it know when it will be free from its man-made confines
and return to its homeland?
Does it dream of the day it sees sunshine
reuniting with massive swaths of sand?

It will only know
When, and only when
The boy decides
The time is right
For another
Day at the beach

Why I Write (or more appropriately: How I Write)

I vomit everything out
It forms into coherent sentences by my fingers tapping of their own accord
(Somehow. Don’t ask me how)
I read the sentences
And I discover that’s how I feel towards the very thing that was previously jumble and mulch in my brain

It’s more of an “oh ok that’s what I was feeling”
Than a “I want to keep my thoughts for others to enjoy”

It’s more like when I write, the words which represent the ideas I’m having are physically separated from me and I can look at them from a distance. That way I can filter out the impure sludge i.e interconnecting thoughts, and just have that thought laid out in front of me so I can fully deal with it and all its essence. Cause when it’s up there I have no idea what’s going on and there is no separation of thoughts, like there’s no barrier between the start of a thought...

Speech Writing Competition 2018

WTW's decision on unpublishing pieces on violence and suicide should be revisited.

Dear Write the World,

Thank you for being an amazing platform where young writers can express and share ideas with others, and I love your concept and drive to continue managing this website. However, there is something I’d like to address. I am here, because of the same thing that happened to a piece from my series, to challenge the fact that any piece containing suicide and self-harm must be taken down and “cannot be considered for submission for a competition or peer review”.

We can’t write about suicide and self-harm. Your policy is understandable. You’re doing it to protect users from graphic images and so on, and prevent the author from glorifying the act and spreading offensive images to others. However, I do not support your one-size-fits-all policy that, no matter what the intention, anything including suicide or self harm must be unpublished. This is ridiculous. Some pieces contain self harm and/or suicide, or are about the aforementioned, but...

Stupid, stupid EE

Do you see these words
engraved by tentative tendrils of ideas, not fit for such slog and sweat

The ink comes from my black tears
Each crevice, words, carrying wisps of bitter memories
And drops of tea gone cold

This piece
A hell-hole riddled with procrastination and panic
You know why?

Each blank space
Is a silent neighbor of untold labour
From the drips of 2-o’clock loneliness, hopeless

Each full stop
A sign of toil
Reminding me of the times I said “I can't do this anymore”

Each text referencing
A representation of the maze of tabs of scientific journals
Most of which esoteric and intimidating

This grey cloud
This sponge soaked in pain
I have left behind

Because I have finished my EE.

If I lose myself I lose it all

“If I lose myself I lose it all”

I’m running. To or from, where or what, I can’t... I don’t know. I need to get out of my head. Get out of my head. Out.
Somewhere. Anywhere but

it can’t be found

Turning, turning, turning
Nowhere
Because I know I can never escape Myself
But I still try
I can't-

I’m running


“If I lose myself I lose it all”

It is bound by the infinite, the limitless is the ultimate limit
It suffocates
Where is refuge now?
It smothers all, everything
Particles choke and are choked, hunter and hunted
But I am the hunted

Can we ever be free from the weight of the universe?
No; and I become nothing

Yet, all is nothing
All and nothing, fused together into a fabric of burden, oppression
We cannot escape
Never truly free

I still try to run

Wearier, breathing
gasps of air


“If I lose myself I lose it all”
...

Jodphur

Looking out faraway
Posing
Regular instagram photo

That angle seemed to do something to her age
Three-quarter side shot
Rounded cheeks exposed

She looks so very small
As if she was a little schoolkid
A teenager
Almost

I thought she would be more mature
29, after all, is a bigger number than pudgy 16
But the grainy picture says otherwise

I guess we were all kids at some point
But I never knew I’d come about it
From a woman sitting on the blue walls of Jodphur

If I lose myself I lose it all

“If I lose myself I lose it all”

I’m running. To or from, where or what, I can’t...I don’t know. I need to get out of my head. Get out of my head. Out.
Somewhere. Anywhere but

it can’t be found.
Turning, turning, turning
Nowhere.
Because I know I can never escape Myself.
But I still try.
I cant-
I’m running.


“If I lose myself I lose it all”

It is bound by the infinite, the limitless is the ultimate limit
It suffocates
Where is refuge now?
It smothers all, every thing
Particles choke and are choked, hunter and hunted
But I am the hunted

Can we ever be free from the weight of the universe?
No; and I become nothing

Yet, all is nothing
All and nothing fused together into a fabric of burden, oppression
We cannot escape
Never truly free
I still try to run.

Wearier
Breathing gapes of air


“If I lose myself I lose it all”
...

Proposal (#cwcbucketprompt)

“You are a bucket.”
“A what?!”

“A bucket. Filled so deep with love I could swim in it...forever.”

He kneels.

“Will you marry me?”

(#cwcfirstcontest) An excerpt from "The Complete Works of Louis Pasteur", 1971.

16-09-1852.
I cannot believe this is happening. Fourteen days and the flasks are bare. Fourteen more to go.

23-09-1852.
Very promising. My col-de-cygne is working marvellously.

30-09-1852.
This is it! I must start my paper immediately. You wait and see the impact this will make!

09-03-1853.
Write to you later; Pouchet is quite the annoyance.

18-06-1853.
Cher journal,
You and me, I like to think that we somehow performed a miracle and made everything go downhill synonymously. Nonetheless, this shaken world will see the truth one day.
Louis.

06-19-1856.
Finally.

#LifeLemonsPrompt

When life gives you lemons, make...lemon water!
Lemons have pretty amazing powers. Come to think of it, they’re like nature’s equivalent of free healthcare. Squeeze some into your glass of water and suddenly you feel refreshed like a jolly curtain billowing near an open window. If you’re not satisfied with that, how about this totally backed up fact (1): it raises your self-confidence. Don’t believe me? It might sound a bit rough to the ears, but a lot of people struggle with bad breath. This isn’t life-threatening, but when you’re, say, about to kiss full on the lips the person you’re sure is the love of your life, it helps that your breath doesn’t smell...well, like rotten eggs. Let’s dive into another scenario that has probably happened to you. You’re in your professional attire, going to work as usual. You hop on the subway (also known as mass sardine transportation) and squeeze yourself in amid the rush of people. Luckily,...

Cat and mouse

I avert my eyes

Shift

Shift

but
all they
seem to
do is
spin around
searching relentlessly
only stopping
when they find
yours

And whirrr they’re off again

Spin spin spin
Two-seventy degrees
a careless grin
Angle three-twenty, care
for some ruffled black hair?
Thirty-four degrees, cover blown
by your rumbling, soothing tone
Hundred and eighty, can’t replace
that freckled, clueless face

Sorry, eyes, for working you so much.
I fear your break only comes when
My seizure of love ceases
And
I’m afraid that
It won’t come anytime soon

Take a Snapshot Now, Pt.5

[Narrator]


                                                                            Snakery

                                               loop                                                      fakery
                                               
                                                            
                                  endless                                                                               hibbidy
                                                                                                                         

                                                                            
                                     an                                                                                       hoop

                                                                                                                        
                                                                                                                
                                                on                                                                     Social

                                                                                media

Take all these expectations away,
What does vanity serve when we’ll all decay?
We don’t need to prove our worth.
Because we already are.
We are all worth it.

Take a Snapshot Now, Pt.4

And the mourning song plays.

“ka-ching! ka-ching!”, comes the rushing river of fresh crisp banknotes
“ba-bling! ba-bling!”, goes the palpitations of red hearts on screens
Make the world dance to delirium
In a fairy-tale of mass consumerism

(“Oh look, someone’s trying to jump off!”)

Everybody swipe to the left!
Everybody swipe to the right!
Can you feel the emptiness?
We’re living a purposeless life

(HAHAHAHA, says society, chuckling. It is already numb from scapegoat accusations)

Impermanence

Hot air

Stuffiness creeps in
Flames of air infiltrate walls
Ice cream sales explode

Take a Snapshot Now, Pt.2

[Two years later]

They say,
“It’s nothing serious.”
“You’re okay.”
“Now get back to work.”
As if they can prop your self-esteem back up from the depths of the trenches
But they leave empty handed
Because you are dust
Trailing in the wake of emotional erosion
And an empty, empty, empty soul
You see yourself say in a strange voice:
“I’m okay.”
But really.
You’re not okay.

Take a Snapshot Now, Pt.1

9 to 5 day.
“Hey!”, you say.
Smile trails off...
They don’t play. They only work for pay
and you’re a cigarette butt on an ashtray.

Back home.
Smileaftersmileaftersmileaftersmileaftersmileaftersmileaftersmile
Beguiled by flashes of peachy skin and pearly whites, while
Your mass molds into your grey sofa, staring with longing eyes
scrolling
scrolling
scrolling
They say,
“Be confident.”
And Everything Else Will Be Worthwhile.

This is Piano, on the keys.

Black on white.
Eight-eight keys yet infinite pieces
Ability to both soothe and infuriate
It is a piano.

Beginner to maestro.
Whether you play a lullaby or concerto
With quiet reflection or with bravado
In your pajamas or a slick black tuxedo
It is a piano.

Jarring and mellifluous chords
Weave and wave together in a stream of sophisticated song
Enticing you to listen to its honeycombs of faraway tales
It is a piano.

It sits there unmoved
While echoes struck from its hammers find their way back to you.
Whether you practice everyday or start afresh at fifty two
Ivory and ebony will always stay trusty and true.
This is a piano.

mental pantomimes

Staring at the remains
of smoldering words that were once
fresh out the pan
the oil spitting at you
as if you were some sort of gummed pavement
crackles of punctuation peppered round the tape markings

Setting in stone.
warping into memories
collapsing into another relapse, a replay
of a vicious dance around your vision
blunt means to say sharp words

ashes blowing away
could it be your body? or feelings?

an eternal blue
that even the whitest white cannot purify

why? you may ask.
a quagmire. you run to it and begin to sink.
 

Child Narrator

Wind

The wind whooshes in, brushing gently against my hair. Carrying the sighs of a billion years’ worth of life, she says, “Shhh...it will be okay. Trust me, little girl.”

​Fifteen entire seconds

With no more than small expectancy and a little joyful apprehensiveness,
You press play.

Eyes squint.
Nose wrinkles.
Start to grimace.
Lips purse as though it’s so, so, sour.
Face contorts more and more into a snarl following its progression into a bland hollow chorus that repeats over and over again each time successively more aggressively pugnacious than the next and every second you wait you wait in vain for a sliver of a soundwave that at least isn’t so hideous while your heart melts into lava and then suddenly you are so absolutely SURE this song was created just to irritate your whole existence with a barrage of notes which you are supposed to interpret as a song?!! oh and by now every single FIBRE of your being twangs in a discordaNT rAGE of foAMY CARWASH MUSIC HOW DARE THEY ASSAULT YOUR PURE DELICATE EARS WHICH WISH THEY’D NEVER HEARD SUCH A MONSTROSITY--

That’s it.
You snap. Slam the...

World Storm One

What if
the storm blows over
and all the leaves and the splashes of the sea and the disfigured light rays whip out, tumbling, free falling  
and all the paper parasols and the plastic bins and the metal fences rip out, clanging onto the smooth brick sidewalks
and all the stoic poker-faces and the pompous ego-digging heels and the two-faced faces trip out, sprinting for cover in undisguised panic

What is there to see?

Yes, there is chaos.
Yes, there is temporary stagnation in economic growth.
Yes, there is a sudden, newly unmasked rawness in human behaviour.

But in the wee minutes of the aftermath
Where all is still,
Where there are no sirens wailing,
Where some are beginning to comprehend their losses...

There is peace in nothingness.
There is peace in wholeness.
There is peace in an unfiltered world. 


What would you see?

The Limerick

Jet Stream road is the address

Have you heard of Pinocchio ice cream?
Well I have, and it tastes like a dream...
Behind me I hear a squeal,
"No wayyy! Are you for real?"
Sure, I bought it from "Elaborate Scheme"!

Monostich

Where the Mountain Meets the Moon

What if fate is just tangled threads like earphones pulled out from a pocket?

No Pause for Breath

Saudade

Take a deep breath...

You are standing in a field 
of tickly tallgrass
Holding up a small, delicate daisy in your
small, delicate hand
Your nose brushing against the yellow dots in the centre
Kind of like the yellow polka dots on your white dress

A big, black, gigantic labrador
Lots of fluff and fur
Rolling around and panting, tongue hanging out
from its jagged canines
Running toward you now
You find yourself on the grass 
Blue sky
Feeling the warm saliva ooze onto your face
A pink, burry tongue flicking up your cheeks
You laugh and hug it

Breathe out...

Now you're here again
Those same green trees
that used to gently lull you to sleep
still crackle in the breeze,
As if they welcomed you back
into a household of simpler times...

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

Black mist

Seasons come and go
Unsusceptible to the passive mind
And time slips away
Like droplets on a waxy leaf

Where will I be?
What will I do?
So many questions
Unanswered...

Dilemmas.
Split decisions.
Long-term plans.
Worries.
Can they just rid themselves of my conscience
Please.
I’m sick of them already.

Outside, I see the veil of night drape over my shoulder
Nothing seems real anymore
Vision obscured, like thoughts.
My spirit wanders hopelessly
Trying to fit in the impenetrable fortress of reality and the world
Blank spaces substituting for lost emotions,
carelessly shoved into the recesses of the mind.

Honks of vehicles reverberating, pounding into my body
Animated conversations permeating around the halls
They mean nothing to a soul
Who is reclusive
Who is staring into the distance
Thinking about the gravity of something that can be so trivial, and yet so encompassing
Of the process that is life.


https://youtu.be/FM-sdhrthh0 - spoken

25 Words

Heavy.

A boy.
Stoic. Unfeeling.
Grabbing the elaborately carved wooden box he brought with him.
Muscles taught.
The box, sailing.

Submerged, 



Until it hit rock bottom.

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2018

Black mist

Seasons come and go
Unsusceptible to the passive mind
And time slips away
Like droplets on a waxy leaf

Where will I be?
What will I do?
So many questions
Unanswered...

Dilemmas.
Split decisions.
Long-term plans.
Worries.
Can they just rid themselves of my conscience
Please.
I’m sick of them already.

Outside, I see the veil of night drape over my shoulder
Nothing seems real anymore
Vision obscured, like thoughts.
My spirit wanders hopelessly
Trying to fit in the impenetrable fortress of reality and the world
Blank spaces substituting for lost emotions,
carelessly shoved into the recesses of the mind.

Honks of vehicles reverberating, pounding into my body
Animated conversations permeating around the halls
They mean nothing to a soul
Who is reclusive
Who is staring into the distance
Thinking about the gravity of something that can be so trivial, and yet so encompassing
Of the process that is life.