the fall

a man with a dream and a weakness 

my analysis -  he didn't mean to purposefully hurt those women

he was in a bad place himself and he dragged them down with him 

even as he kept his bookstore open . doesn't make it right. but doesn't make him an evil person. 

pooja. finally said it. it's been instrumental in her growth. only hers? so many. so many who are fleeing from him like he has the plague. 

the mob is bigger now than it ever was. its call for death so resounding 

we all turn abigail, crying witch before we are called one ourselves. such a harsh world we are in. 

how frail we are as human beings. how vast our dreams and how petty our actions. 

I don't condone the way the young ladies were treated. no way. but does that cancel out his dream of the lovely book store and what it stands for? 

the taj mahal is beautiful. but apparently all the thumbs or hands of the craftsmen were chopped off so they can't reproduce it. do we admire the taj mahal as a symbol of everlasting love or as a symbol of immense cruelly and pride? 

when a man fails who will stand beside him. that's the qn. no organisation for sure. People... maybe only family. 

if I fail? 

the mob is loud in condemnation but quiet in compassion. 

and makes me wonder. if I was to threaten the rise of lit , I will step aside to let it grow. so too Kenny who is willing to step aside for his dream which is bigger than him. 

sharp ripostes

should I save the bread and kill the husband...

I'm busy scolding you don't interrupt 

hero with a tragic flaw

he is giving up his book store completely 

karma catches up

and when we fail, we fall alone

I'm sad

he is a man with a dream, that lit up dreams of others, a beacon of hope for others, but also a mam with  weakness that hurt people. 

what a piece of work is man

books actually

what a saga is unfolding and its so confusing in my mind

1. I love books actually.  I have great respect for the founder and owner, Kenny Leck. 

2. he has a messy personal life but I always considered that not my business

3. an article came out sat suggesting he was slightly predatory with the girls he was working with, mixing business with personal matters quite a bit. e.g. always dating one of his co workers. he married one and got divorced within a few months 

4. my mind is reeling. firstly I would think private matters need not come.out public. what's the motivation.  to tarnish his name

 the name of the book store? 

5. then I'm feeling bad for what those girls experienced. 

6. then I'm annoyed at all the boycott  Kenny and the bookstore calls..fall from grace is so fast. golden boy to zero in connected world. 

7. then wondering if people expect perfection.  to what degree does badness cancel out goodness and vice versa

8. Guess this would be a good warning to him and all others to be mindful of how we behave with employees

 generally should not engage in romantic relationships at work lah! 

9. hope the bookshop survives. and moe doesn't have to stop featuring them etc

  

.

aura diet diaries

Now yearly count

2020: 2 ( Aug and Nov)

2021: 5 ( Mar, June, Aug, Sep, Dec)

am doing my 6th aura diet now. 

I feel good.

in the last year from Aug to Aug, I did 5 to vary degrees of adherence 

1. Aug 2020. me with aura pple and devi. skipped 4 dinners, for last four days - 

2. end nov to early Dec. 20.  me, kavitha, nalla, only skipped day 6 dinner -, coz of throwing up after water diet

3. Mar. 21. with friends. skipped day 4 and day 8 dinners,  and day 10. during March holidays. 

4. end June. 21 me, somu, valli. completed all days  did major clean up at home too. 

5. end July. 21 to early Aug. . myself. skipped only day five dinner and day six breakfast. 

 

6. Sep 21. skipped Friday. Well not skipped. topped up. and topped up day 10 lunch too. overall not bad I say! 

7. Dec 13. 2021. 

love lace 1 month

lovelace has been with us a for a month now

such changes 

he still doesn't like us touching his head he tries snapping at our fingers but he loves to come sit on our heads and shoulders.  he nibbles at absolutely everything. 

aishu is closest to him. 

yesterday I spent the least time with him

 hope to spend more today. 

a month ago

this featherball flew in 

Green winged

Blue backed

Red foreheaded

pink cheeked 

tiny fluttermill

his orange highlights only appear after his bath

and he teaches us patience 

and to slow down to admire his colours his mannerisms his beauty

boundaries

are there boundaries in glassy waters 

spaces where the great monitor lizard should not cross 

for that wavy hinterland belongs to another great monitor lizard 

we can't tell where these boundaries start and end 

but they must exist if they do on grassy savannahs that unfold undulating to our eyes

our land borders too must appear arbitrary except for those pillars that she as immigration booths 

unbroken river v5

Unbroken River

For a minute today I think of them. 

My grandmother whom I lost at 10,

I carry her in my name,

and in fleeting impressions

of strength and sternness, 

whom I used to sit like as a toddler, 

legs outstretched while chatting 

with temple priests.

My grandfather whom I lost at 25, 

him I carry in a million little ways - 

in a song on the radio that we both loved,

in the way I walk when lost in thought,

larger than life in my father's stories,

in my 'O' Level English Oral 

as the family member I admire the most,

every Jan and July 7, 

his last birthday, celebrated with just us,  

three grandkids and his soon to be son-in-law.

My other grandfather, a shadowy figure at best, yet him I carry in a handwritten prayer 

he penned for me the eve of my wedding, 

that by some miracle I still had years later, 

that I learned to say at one of my lowest points, 

that I still give copies of to young ladies desperate like I once was, 

for a child.

And my grandmother, she whom I see

in the contours of my mother's face, 

my daughter's and maybe one day, in mine,

whom I remember every special day, 

for she would be the first to call and wish us, 

on birthdays, anniversaries, festivals,

our direct line to God, 

the beacon whose passing 

is a gash in our lives so recent, 

we are still learning to live without her.  

Like four mighty water sources, 

they rush through my parents, 

shaping landscapes as they merge in me 

and branch out into smaller tributaries 

that are my children, 

an unbroken river through time.

unbroken river v4

For a minute today I think of them. 

My grandmother whom I lost at 10,

I carry her in my name,

and in fleeting impressions of strength and sternness, 

whom I used to sit like as a toddler, legs outstretched while chatting with the temple priests.

My grandfather whom I lost at 25, 

him I carry in a million little ways - 

in a song on the radio that we both loved,

in the way I walk when lost in thought,

larger than life in my father's stories,

in my 'O' Level English Oral as the family member I admire the most,

every Jan and July 7, 

his last birthday, celebrated with just us,  

three grandkids and his soon to be son-in-law.

My other grandfather, a shadowy figure at best, yet him I carry in a handwritten prayer he wrote for me the eve of my wedding, 

that by some miracle I still had years later, 

that I learned to say at one of my lowest points, 

that I still give copies of to young ladies desperate like I once was, 

for a child.

 

And my grandmother, she whom I see in the contours of my mother's face, my daughter's and maybe one day, in mine,

whom I remember every special day, for she would be the first to call and wish us, 

on my birthday, anniversaries, kids' birthdays, festivals,

our direct line to God, so powerful her prayers for us, 

the beacon whose passing is a gash in our lives so recent, 

we are still learning to live without her.  

I carry a little of bit of these giants inside me, don't I? 

Like four mighty water sources, 

they rush through my parents, 

shaping landscapes as they merge in me 

and branch out into smaller tributaries that are my children, 

an unbroken river through time, 

----‐--

Today i think of them,

their courage,

their stories of sorrow and joy.

and I wake up in the middle of the night

to write them down,

pin them in lines to time

unbroken river v3

For a minute today I think of them. 

My grandmother whom I lost at 10,

I carry her in my name. 

My grandfather whom I lost at 25, 

him I carry in a million little ways - 

in a song on the radio that we both loved,

in the way I walk when lost in thought,

larger than life in my father's stories,

every Jan and July 7, 

his last birthday, celebrated with just 3 grandkids and his soon to be son in law.

My other grandfather, a shadowy figure at best,, but whom I carry in a handwritten prayer he wrote for me the eve of my wedding, 

that by some miracle I still had years later, 

that I learned to say at one of my lowest points, 

that I still give copies of to young ladies desperate like I once was, 

for a child.

 

And my grandmother, she whom I see in the contours of my mother's face, my daughter's and maybe one day, in mine,

whom I remember every special day, for she would be first to call and wish us, 

on my birthday, anniversaries, kids" birthdays, 

the beacon whose passing is a gash in our lives so recent, 

we are still learning to live without her.  

I carry a little of bit of these giants inside me, don't I? 

Like four mighty water sources, 

they merge in me and branch out into smaller tributaries that are my children, 

an unbroken river through time, 

----‐--

Today i think of them,

their courage,

their stories of sorrow and joy.

and I wake up in the middle of the night

to write them down

extra

And they live in my children though my kids know but one of them,

fleeting impressions 

in the way I used to sit as a child at temple, legs stetched out, chatting with with temple priests,  

the way I walk when deep in thought 

I think of them v2

For a minute today I think of them. 

My grandmother whom I lost at 10, 

I carry her in my name. 

My grandfather whom I lost at 25, 

him I carry in a million little ways

in a song on the radio that we both loved,

larger than life in my father's stories,

in a late night conversation with my husband,

every Jan and July 7,

his last birthday, celebrated with just 3 grandkids and his soon to he grand son in law.

My other grandfather, a shadowy figure at best,, but whom I carry in a handwritten prayer he wrote for me the eve of my wedding, that by some miracle I still had years later, that I learned to say at one of my lowest points, that I still give copies of to young ladies desperate like I was once, for a baby. 

And my grandmother, she whom I see in the contours of my mother's face, my daughter's and maybe one day, in mine,

whom I remember every special day, for she would be first to call and wish us, on my birthday, anniversaries, kids" birthdays, 

the beacon of wisdom,

whose passing is a gash in our lives so recent, we are still learning to live without her.  

I carry a little of bit of these giants inside me, don't I? 

And they live in my children though my kids know but one of them,

like an ancient tree whose seeds live on, they beat in our hearts, run in our blood.

Today i think of the four of them,

their courage, their stories of sorrow and joy,

like four river sources, they merge in me and branch out into smaller tributaries, unbroken through time, 

and I am in awe.

them

for a minute today I think of them 

my grandmother whom I lost at 10, 

I carry her in my name, 

my grandfather whom I lost at 25

him I carry in a million little ways

in a song on the radio that we both loved 

looking large in my father's stories 

in a late night conversation with my husband 

every Jan and July 7

his last birthday celebrated with 3 grandkids and his soon to he grand son in law

my other grandfather, a shadowy figure from my past, but whom I carry in a very concrete way, in a handwritten prayer he wrote for me, before my yes the eve of my wedding, thst by some miracle I still had years later, that I learned to say at one of my lowest points, that I still give copies of to young ladies desperate like I was once, for a baby

and my grandmother, she whom I see in the contours of my mother's face, my daughter's and maybe one day, in mine

whom I remember every special day, for she would be first to call and wish us, on my birthday, anniversaries, kids" birthdays, the sage of wisdom whose passing is a gash in our lives so recent, we are still learning to live, without her,  sliwly healing, knowing she is above us

I carry a little of bit of these giants inside me, don't I? how blessed am I. and they live in my children though they know but one of them,

like an ancient tree whose seeds live on, they beat in our hearts, run in our blood, 

today i think of the four of them,

their courage, their stories of sorrow and joy, 

their mark in me

and I smile, holding them all in my cupped hands

for a minute. 

seapowrimo day1

THE RE-CYCLE PROMPT

In our lives, we might have thrown away things, dropped, quit, given up on doing an activity/activities, ended a connection/relationship with a person/persons, and so on. In another stage of life, we might regret what/who we have got rid of from our lives, and really want them back. Imagine, if you have a chance to retrieve one thing/person that you had thrown away, what is the one thing/who you will get back? Please write a poem reflecting this Re-Cycle theme according to the 6-4-4. 

#DragonBonus — Write a poem in ភុជង្គលីលា/Bhuchunga Lilea (Dragon’s Move). There are three sentences. The first sentence has 6 syllables. The second and third sentences have 4 syllables. 

Rhyme scheme: 

The 6th syllable of the first sentence rhymes with the 4th syllable of the 2nd sentence and the 2nd syllable of the third sentence. 

Stanza crossing: The last (4th) syllable rhymes with the 6th syllable of the first sentence of the next stanza. 

Basically, 6-4-4 (Please see the form below).

#seapwm21 #seapwm21day1 #ReCyclePrompt #TeamCambodia

love

To my sweet love

I love you

more than I say 

more than you know

my best friend 

loving father to our lovely kids

my shoulder I lean on, cry on

my favourite person to tease

I look forward to 

staying young with you,

you steady my world 

a gift from God 

a blessing thru and thru 

I love you! 

43 today

lovely birthday celebrations 

started yesterday with a long walk with hubby in town to buy a coffee machine and then dinner at one of my fav restaurants - elemens 

started birthday with a morning cycle with my son and a walk in the park

had an awesome cuppa with my new machine 

then read a story to my kids for 2 hours!

then an hour of poetry discussions

later dinner with my parents ordering from mother fav restaurant- gokul! 

woo hoo!