These final few days with you
I count the slip of each grain of Time
through this hollow corridor of darkened glass
Murky, the Future veiled beneath
the drip, drip, drip of the Flood to come.
Like Noah, I brood in the dark
for the deluge that awaits.
On Thieves and Heroes (or, Twenty-Five Years and Forty-Seven Lies)
For twenty-five years, brisk demands
For change, for moral politics -
A reborn nation, confident
That Justice can stand unafraid -
Now finally claim centre stage
Your avatar can claim his prize.
But look - what fateful compromise!
What cruel bargain - filth-stained hands!
With faithless smiles, with hands aclasp
These erstwhile foes declare their pact
Amidst blithe claims of kingly seal
Your "unity" swept all sins clean
And now you reap your poisoned fruit
A bitter harvest for your sham
And twenty-five years' promises
Are trumped by forty-seven lies
The deathly grin unmasked, unshamed
Bears witness to your blotted vows
The thieves you pledged to overthrow
Walk lockstep with your heroes now.
On Constancy and Treachery
Give us a man of Constancy
A man of iron principles
A man to lead us broody souls
To sunlit hills of Certainty
Not this, this faithless wavering
This double-dealing Treachery
The eager overthrow of Truth
In service of Ambition's ring
You think that we will soon forget
That public minds are changeable
Well our Trust, too, is mutable
Your perfidy you soon will fret!
On Your Birthday (Malaysia Day)
On this day, many years ago
As we were reminiscing about you
You, beautiful adorable you
We realised that we had never known
Truly when and where you were born
You, fiercely loving you
We inherited you
When we bought our lovely home
And you had made our lives a joy
You, loyal joyful you
So on this day, many years ago
As we were thinking of you
We decided, fancifully
(and without consulting you)
that today would be your birthday
You, beautiful adorable you
You, fierce fierce you
You, forever loved you.
On the Dragon’s Nine Dashes
The cowlick tongue, afire, affeared The dragon sheds its gown of shame This lake of fire, it smoulders red A prize for thwarted dreams inflamed The tongue it flicks across these shores The belt and road, now bully's gall Indignant protests all ignored Incursion curses neighbours all In gaped amazement nations grieve Audacious claim encinders trust The strong shall seize what they can seize The weak shall suffer what they must.
On Incantations
Each poem is incantation true: a plaintive cry in darkest night a squeal of boundless sheer delight a prayer for fragile tender hopes a spell to cast love's binding ropes And so I now, in faith, incant: These poems I write with dread aflame Such dreams I dare not even name A pledge to prove amidst all strife These verses mark undaunted Life.
On this Morning without Monkey
The morning feels so desolate
No charming meow to meet
No loving purr of tortitude
No furry paw to greet
This morning makes the first of morns
of many more in store
For now it's just the two of us
No Monkey, ever more.
On These Few Things
Elton John
Backgammon
Logic puzzles
Demis Roussos
These are the few things I remember
from those days long ago
when you were still trying to be my father.
On Plucking the Bitter Fruit
They asked me to describe
what it is that
I am feeling right now:
The disappointment of a son
and the alienation of a man
the bitterness of hopes
and the sweetness of vindication
the smallness of petty disagreements
and the enormity of loss
even if it is just the losing of you
I buried you yesterday
and I accepted your mantle
but I refuse this myth-making
this farce of false memories
You left us yesterday
but I left you long ago.
On Winning
I came home and
opened the door
It was early morning
and my cat meowed
welcoming me home
I stooped down to pet her
with tears in my eyes, saying
“You won, Monkey. You won.”