Tag: Poems

Throw it in the sky,
Let the flames catch it,
Caress it, smoke it,
Let it burn,
Burn with all the pain it’s caused.

pastel purple credit@googleimages

light gold credit@googleimages

credit @googleimages

For the first time in 18 years,
You dared to paint your nails.
Your selected colours, pastel purple and light gold.
You don’t know why you never dared to before, or do you?

Girls half your age doll themselves up with more gusto
Than you could ever dream of.
Yet, you have always been conscious of getting too mixed up in
All those stuff.
I think I know why.

I am proud though.
Proud that you are no longer afraid.
Proud that you are learning to do what makes you happy.
Proud that you are saying goodbyes to what ifs and embracing ‘how about now’s.

Simple thing have always made you happy.
You must have been over the moon these past few days.
I am glad you have realised that
You’ve been the needle in your foot.
It’s time to let go.
It’s time you start being yourself for yourself.

Your worth or lack of worth
Is not determined by how well you doll nor don’t doll up.
Though you shall never actively wear make-up
Because you think it destroys ones skin, I wonder what shall happen in the years to come.
I hope that whatever the case, you never succumb to societal norms just because.

At least promise me that.

Last week, my family and I went to an ocean park. We didn’t know what to expect because we went with a tour group and it was frequently referred to as a water park. In hindsight, if we knew what was in store, we wouldn’t have gone.

Over time, I have come to have a strong opposition against circuses (although I have never been to one) because I believe it is cruel to force animals to act against nature. This opposition is rapidly extending to zoos and ‘ocean parks’. The animals are in small enclosures, much smaller than that of where they would be in the wild. This results in the animals being very stressed and thus affecting their health. In addition, they mostly look very sad. 

Hence, this poem in hopes of starting a conversation on this issue. I would love to hear your stand.  

I am a grizzly bear.

A dark-brown usually 180kg salmon eating beast.

Yet, here I am

In this small place where the hundreds of kilometres

I walk is now back and forth in a small enclosure.

I myself aren’t surprised that my skin is slowly drooping.

It’s the same way I am losing my gusto.

The 3 inches long claws I have are being put to waste

As I am fed sweet potatoes by tourists whose targets aren’t accurate enough to reach me.

In addition, the 3 metres I can stand to is now simply a tourist attraction.

I am not sure where I came from,

But I am sure I cannot go back to the wild.

Still, this pain, this suffering, for the entertainment of others, is not what I deserve.

So, do you agree or disagree with my opposition against ocean parks? Why and why not? Do leave comments!

She broke up with him today.

I’ve never seen her so distraught,
So vulnerable like ever before today.
For the very first time, her stubbornness had dissolved into water droplets.

It’s been said time and again
that love is a complicated thing.
There is a certain amount of courage, almost foolishness that makes you put your heart on your sleeves, each time.
Yet, almost like an addiction, I see them throw themselves at the risk.
Repeating the process that has now come to be normal with growing up – heartbreaks.

The thrill of a companion is what drives them most times.
I wish it wasn’t.
It’s a downhill fall if the solution to the hole within was to fill it with the sweet words of a companion.
For why would teeth be plucked out from excessive intake of sugar?

As ladies of a new generation,
I wish we wouldn’t be so vulnerable to societal norms.
I wish we would learn to see that self-worth is the best filling.
I wish we would learn to throw away the items society has thrown in our face to hide our flaws.
I wish we would learn to be comfortable in our own skin.
I wish we would learn to eat and dress for ourselves.
I wish we would learn to never be afraid to let out the warriors in us.
I wish we would learn to see how much more we could be,
if the strength came from within.

In response to Anna Akhmatova’s ‘You Will Hear Thunder’

“It is poets and philosophers who tend to think clearly of death”
~Sherwin Nuland

I shall dance in the pouring rain
And my footsteps shall create sandstorms.
My spins and twirls more on point that tornados in glass bottles.
My movement: poetry that will swallow you deeper
Than the waves of tsunamis.
My name shall live longer than named hurricanes.

* A poem a little early than usual as I shall be participating in an MUN competition this Sunday.

via Daily Prompt: Exposed

I have seen her fall on make up after their fights.
She uses it to cover up their rocky relationship.

She doesn’t do it well.

He speaks out for women’s right, compliments strong women, but likes her under his wing.
He likes her at home, where he knows she shall always be safe.
He doesn’t like her begging him for money, but constantly gives her the change.

She appreciates it and smiles brightly each time.
She complains of being naive but doesn’t do anything about it.
She wants to be free but she fears being exposed, vulnerable to a not so safe world.

At night, when she sleeps, she dreams of courage.

During the day, she prays for a better life for her children.

April 14th, was the third anniversary of the kidnapping of 276 girls, from the Government Girls Secondary School, school dormitories, in Chibok, Nigeria.

This poem is a cry for the safe return of the rest of the 195 girls that have yet to return.

It’s been three years now. Three years since the 276 girls were taken by force, in the dark of the night from the place that was the foundation of their aspirations. It’s been three years since 195 girls have last seen their families.

It is hard to comprehend. Always has been. It is difficult comprehending how people said to be human beings could celebrate the kidnapping of girls on the path of a better future. It is difficult comprehending why the government has yet to rescue the 195 of them. However, it’s a luxury for those whose problem is in comprehending how such an evil could happen and not in how it had happened to them.

There are things many of us will fail to fully understand. The emotion the parents feel when the next girl, who was managed to make it back home, isn’t their daughter. The emotion a mother feels when her daughter comes back with a baby although she is almost half the age, her Mother was when she had her first child. The agony some of the girls felt losing their babies while escaping.

However, despite the mess, a few thing are clear. Justice shall prevail, we are not afraid, and we shall #BringBackOurGirls.

It’s hidden in
Their deaths
The aftermath of the stories they create
The aftermath of living in storyland and experiencing all they wished they could but couldn’t or/and didn’t dare to in the real world.
Tennessee Williams, a profound writer
Who didn’t believe in original sins or guilt but in the reasoning that the right or wrong that individuals make is “by necessity or by certain still-comprehended influences in themselves, their circumstances, and their antecedent”
So,
How would Tennessee Williams explain his own tragic death from asphyxiation?
The fancy word for
His chocking on a plastic medicine cap
An irony or a protest?

It’s hidden in
The 15-20 mins planned story I performed
About how I lived in the Worlds of the characters in my novels
Placed myself in their shoes and took their skin
For so long, far too long
That I was facing the consequences of
A slowly but surely dying body
Due to a disease unknown to man.

It’s hidden in
My poem STORYLAND
In which the very reason I open a book
Books which are so much like life
With a beginning and an end
With many adventures in between
Is simply for the joy of experiencing
Experiencing
More than I ever could in this life time.

It’s hidden in
The New Year Resolutions we make
The bucket list we create
Our search for love
The dreams we hunt for and the goals we hope to fulfill
But most especially the uncertainty of death at any point in time
That lingers in the air.

It’s hidden in
But it’s not that hard to see.