Too many eyes have been wounded tonight
Eyes which have wept wet tears of blinding grief
Now red, bleared, livid with war’s burning fog.
Bloodshot eyes, now braying for the blood of
Children, women whose only sin is that
They dare to insist on the right to live.
On J M W Turner’s The Field of Waterloo
Charged lightning pours an
Angry light on this field of
Deaf, dumb, dead bodies.
On Our Prayer
I whispered to God,
And in her ear, a prayer for
His Benediction.
On J M W Turner’s Yacht Approaching The Coast
Bright blinding sky casts
Eddied reflections on the
Muddy, jealous sea.
Tentang Rezki Tiada Diundang
Kaya sungguh khazanah Tuhan
Rezki datang tiada diundang
Tumbuh harap di hati rawan
Bagai bunga mekar berkembang
Mekar kembang tiada terkilan
Besar hati menadah budi
Undang tuan hamba junjungkan
Moga rezki kemas terpatri.
On Raindrops in Bloomsbury
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.