Faint droplets fall in
Whispered hush - my eyeglasses
Mist up, smeared with wet.
On Knopps’ Iced Chocolate
Under torrent lash
Of solar glare, I sip my
Cup of languid bliss.
On The Fleeing Doe
She fled away in
The night, doe-like, chased away
By her Growling Bear.
On The Norrington Room at Blackwell’s, Oxford
Subterranean
Cave of literary joys:
Euphorical me!
On The Miracle of Modern Flight
Beyond mere sight, the drone of jet-heeled thrust
Propels these numbered souls through sky, through clouds
Aboard this metal wing we embarked, flocked
And flecked with hopes and honeyed dreams ablaze.
Hurtling through the smoky night, we sail thus
Within tubular confine, nonchalant
At the miracle of modern flight, such
Being this, our present state of blessed grace.
Lives thus emplaced in Techne’s steady hand,
We embrace the calm slumber of meek souls.
On New Adventures
Always, the best things in our lives, they come
Unbidden, unasked, unexpectedly.
What does it take for the pale slivers of
Random good fortune and fate to greet us
And beckon us with grace and welcome smile?
How is it that such blessings often bid
Welcome only once Time has done its work,
When Aeschylus’ awful grace has worn down
Grieving hearts into spartan fists, never
Falt’ring in their austere, singular task
Of mournful remembrance for what once was?
And yet, and yet - Fortuna will demand
That we wipe our tears and hoist sails anew:
Fresh winds now come to stir this placid sea
A new adventure calls - we sail today.
On Coffee
I swill down a last
Gulp of this black elixir.
Exhale: Life goes on.
On Linnaeus
He ranked Men by skin
Color - Europe on top. An
Evil science indeed.
On Watching His National Day Rally Speeches in YouTube
From across the yawning gap, the wide chasm Of irretrievable Time, I watched this Lion of a man hold his people in a Roaring trance: his eyes ablaze, his voice in Firm, unshakeable command: exhorting, Cajoling, pleading, teasing, commanding. Teaching his people, teasing out the facts Of a hostile environ in which their Red dot is ensconced: uneasy, wary. Informing them of glory, great heights scaled, Warning them of complacency, of ease. He growls, roars, thunders like an Asian Jove, Like a Confucian father to cowed sons. Tells them to buck up, work t'wards, fight against, March onwards and upwards, Sisyphean. He says, "Even from my sickbed, even If you are going to lower me into The grave and I feel that something is going Wrong, I will get up." As I watch him on Stage, from the corner of my eye, I keep Watch for the angry ghost of Lee Kuan Yew.
Tentang Rindu Yang Bakal Terubat
Palu gendang bertali pantas
Alun degup berderap kencang
Hati girang meletus deras
Rindu hati bukan kepalang
Jasad jauh beribu batu
Namun pisah hanya sejenak
Dua hati terjalin satu
Takkan lerai walau terjarak
Terbang tinggi sayap garuda
Depa besi membelah awan
Kanda datang bertemu dinda
Kasih tulus mengubat rawan