Finding hard for memories
What’s left behind, the vein
from the brain headquarter
Screaming – like picket line
Frying leafy veggie in kitchen
Pupils swollen iris in colour
sapphire, rowing along Chao
Phraya River with gargoyle
On my back. My protector
Take me far and away
Monthly Archives: November 2013
Poem: Monologue 00.00.011
Poem: Primetime At Eight
Four-legged strolling along balcony
Lizard escapes behind Christ’s portrait
Transmission turns white; disoriented noises
Cold feet sweaty palms
Meals on stove eyes shutting
Anchorman back from hiatus finger wrapping ring
Man walks out only towel around him
The smell of after rain
when we stood by the bakery scenting
brewed coffee and poppy seed bagel
Poem: Warmest
Things I’ve seen many
Toying with aneroid
Bewitching one’s mental
Capacity, in the charming
London bulb
Community spirits make
Me dizzy, commuting me
Into a commuter that head
Elsewhere. Sit me beside a
Helmsman watching Iron Cross
Stirring petroleum jelly
On the stove, hungry for
The in-coming voices of
A day to remember. Then
The moon is the warmest
Poem: Bud Cigarette
on the floor it hits the wall
the pavement made of cement
burning, burning bright and shine
narcotic, nicotine, caffeine, alcohol
causing carcinoma the death by dawn
secondary tobacco by the Golden Triangle
baptised by the rain of civet cat beans
cyberpunk in production
without the need of statutory material
confused by a muscled man
and mesomorph
smoking hundred sticks a day
Poem: Rainbow
With love and joy stepping a bucket of grapes
for red wine
Mama’s memory lane of the finest orange marmalade
The outlook of a yellow parachute escaping
to Eureka
The romantic green where I penetrate into your pupils
You promise the ocean blue to kill the curse
I will name my nation Rejected Indigo Poets
Wrapping purple in the bedroom, burning calories
by kissing
Poem: Alphabets
Tennis ball flying in the sky
Boom-box in the beat
Engine’s running high
Gentlemen ready to start the fire
The who, to keep the finest keeper
Manicure & pedicure daddy’s game
Dancing under the moon
Place me inside the rocket-boo
Tell me your favourite gelato
its flavour and the toppings
Poem: Sisterhood
dedicate to Amy Lynn Walton
we have learned of one another
before meeting face-to-face
15 years of friendship
through pen and papers,
glues and confetti
sorry for unable to visit you
in the summer of twenty-ten
I promise, to make it up to you
I trust the day will come
Hold onto me.