bintan

You and I in a beach hut in Bintan,

sipping martini while crunching carrot sticks,

boogie boarding the waves 

singing 'stayin alive stayin alive'

'oh oh oh oh'

as each wave tried its darnest to crash us,

chilling on the sand with a book in hand,

tanned beyond recognition - 

nothing could beat that feeling 

a world away from our cares of the day.

While we haven't done it again

when we said we would, 

you never know, we still could

20 years from today.

Can you see us on deck chairs again

thinking back to how we first met

at age 7 in Tamil class

once a week at ACS,

how we've kept in touch over the years

with ebbs and flows 

as certain as the tides themselves? 

That's why I know 

you and I will say cheers

holding our wine steady 

even as we push 70

on a beach 

far away 

just the two of us

again. 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day30 #TimeMachinePrompt #AllAtOnceBonus #opentocrit

choreography

Dance of the Flame Bower Bird

A twig here, a twig there

On the forest floor

Snap off the edge to keep it to size

Lay it out here, now straighten it there

Make it curve, create a hollow

The perfect avenue

For two to make one

How about a leaf, nice and green

Some berries, bright and blue

Day after day, hour after hour

He sets up his bower

Now he waits

She appears on a branch above

Inspects his space, cocks her head

He twitters and chirrups

She responds with a whistle

Encouraged, 

He starts with Stage One: The Eyes

His irises shrink to pinpricks

In the yellow sea of his eyes

Before filling out into black saucers

Impressed, she stays

He dilates his pupils even more. 

She flies off,

Darn

Another berry, another leaf,

Some dried flowers by the side

She’s back now, hovering just outside

 He moves it up a notch for Stage two: The Dance

Two steps to the left

Now two to the right

Holding the blue berry in his beak,

He fans his plumage

In fires of red and gold

Edged in black

Fold in and fold out

Take a bow

She steps into his bower

He now steps in too

Head butts her for Stage Three

but this is love bowerbird style

and she settles in

A flutter of wings

Brilliant red on olive yellow

Joy abounds 

In 15 second he secures

The future of his species

His love language:

Definitely Dance

#jemstones # spwm23 #sowm23day28 # opentocrit 

Dance of the Flame Bower Bird

 

A twig here, a twig there

On the forest floor

Snap off the edge to keep it to size

Lay it out here, now straighten it there

Make it curve, create a hollow

The perfect avenue

For two to make one

How about a leaf, nice and green

And some berries bright and blue

Just here and just so,

Day after day, hour after hour

He sets up his bower

Now he waits

 

She appears on a branch above

inspects his space, looks up and down

He twitters and chirrups

She responds with a whistle

Encouraged, he starts with stage one: eyes

His irises shrink to pinpricks

in the yellow sea of his eyes

before filling out into black saucers

Impressed, she stays

It’s working

He dilates his pupils even more. 

She flies off,

Darn

Another berry, another leaf,

Some dried flowers by the side

She’s back now, hovering just outside

 

He moves to stage two: the dance

Two steps to the left

Now two to the right

Holding the blue berry in his beak,

He fans his plumage

In fires of red and gold

Edged in black

Fold in and fold out

Take a bow

 

She steps into his bower

He now steps in too

Head butts her for stage 3

but this is love bowerbird style

and she settles in

A flutter of wings

Brilliant red on olive yellow

Joy abounds for 15 seconds

And thus he secures

The future of his species

 

His love language

Definitely

Da

 

 

 

dance

Words in this poem

   tap  dance   

       with shiny black 

shoes 

  tippitty   

         tappity

   tip   tap

p

  i

   r 

     r

       o

    u

  e

t

 t

   e 

   in pale pink 

flats 

              p   o

that  t i     t    e 

  before they 

        l  

           e  

               a

                    p

 and bound 

     through 

         the air,

ending with 

the waltz 

     one 

        two 

          three

boom

      cha 

          cha 

around    the 

       page 

         in 

   controlled

        joy

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day27 #dancingprompt # opentocrit #wip

Acrostic 2

But

I am

Grossly misrepresented 

Because

Awesomely hairy I am

Devious smile I have

Woe begone

Once I spied 3 hogs 

Later 2 turned up in my belly 

Fairytale villain I have become willy nilly

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day26 #wip # opentocrit # poem2

acrostic 1

P is for parody

A is for arody 

R is for rody

O is for ody

D is for de

Y is for e

Presenting a an Acrostic poem in Parody, Whee! 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day26 #opentocrit #inspiredbythe12yearold

#justforfun

multilingual prompt

Why this கொலைவெறி

கொலைவெறி கொலைவெறிடி,

Why this kolaveri kolaveri kolaveri di

A joke in a Tamil song

is all too real in

trigger happy USA.

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day25 #bilingualprompt #opentocrit  #almost haiku #757not575

exhaustion

I'm exhausted

smiling is effort

the tiredness is on a diff level

lacking sleep 

as usual I find comfort in food

 

photo thoughts

I search the photo eagerly for signs

are you holding hands, leaning into each other 

do you still have something there, 

that brought you together 20 years ago

and keep you there, through life's dance

I was troubled the last time we spoke 

that your found resonance in a poem I wrote last year 

with lines like 

when does one stop caring 

if the other is hurting 

those were mine at that time

I didn't want them to be yours too

when Taylor and Joe called it a daythe whole world sighed

because deep inside despite the everyday upheavals of our own relationships

we want to believe in love forever 

in others if not our own

and my heart broke a little to hear you speak 

of kids growing and you wondering. what you will do next 

of not even knowing what you like 

in service of family 

you'd lost yourself 

and you run things so well

it's easy to forget what you do to get it done 

that a human heart beats

and you spoke 

of silences, food, and love unappreciated 

and I cried with you.though you shed no tears

I cried for both of you whom I love 

and love you to love the other 

but perhaps

all marriages are the same

shiny outside 

and shaky inside 

and we pray for ourselves and each other 

to find that spark

that magic again

that makes us lean into the other 

not just for a photograph 

but for life 

blend 3

She colours with ab-

andon not caring for the

lines that hem her in,

unlike her mother who can't 

stop fretting about the lines.

but look, is her mother breaking rules? 

yes, her tanka is turning into a guridname, cool!

But, why is she crossing these lines? 

Coz Marc said to create a Frankenstein

So in crossing lines she is still colouring within? 

Die lah. 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day24 #mutantforms

https://www.facebook.com/groups/singpowrimo/permalink/783801651735088/?app=fbl

What's the point of rules if we don't break them?

we learn the rules so we know how to break them.

who teaches children to colour inside

those who think rule are to abide 

who dares to create new ideas 

only those who can live with fears 

blend 2

guridame

If you wish to tell a lie,

practise controlling the eye.

If you wish to skip school today,

upload those party pics another day.

If you wish hide a boyfriend under the table,

keep your dad busy fixing the computer cable.

If you want to drink vodka at home without mum knowing,

mix it with orange juice, and keep it flowing.

If you wish to write a poem every day,

look around, listen, what does your world have to say? 

#spwm22 #spwm22day15 #jemstones #opentocrit #soclosetocopput #gurindameprompt

tanka 

Dedicated to my daughter 

--- 

She colours with ab-

andon not caring for the

lines that hem her in,

unlike her mother who can't 

stop fretting about the lines.

#singpowrimo2015 #singpowrimo2015day21 #tankaattempt #jemstonesð

I was a lonely and awkward child 

Till I found myself in a book 

Reading is reckless, for i drown

And resurface in another book

I wish I could hear the turn of the page 

Or drink in the smell of my e-book 

My world spins to the whim of a germ

To steady my mind I open a book 

Jem Stone have you had a look

who is the author of your book? 

Dedicated to my daughter 

--- 

She colours with ab-

andon not caring for the

lines that hem her in,

unlike her mother who can't 

stop fretting about the lines.

gurin ghazal 

#spwm20 #spwm20day14 #jemstones #awfulfirstattemptatghazal #guiltypleasureprompt #critifyouwant

2 forms blend

guridame

If you wish to tell a lie,

practise controlling the eye.

If you wish to skip school today,

upload those party pics another day.

If you wish hide a boyfriend under the table,

keep your dad busy fixing the computer cable.

If you want to drink vodka at home without mum knowing,

mix it with orange juice, and keep it flowing.

If you wish to write a poem every day,

look around, listen, what does your world have to say? 

#spwm22 #spwm22day15 #jemstones #opentocrit #soclosetocopput #gurindameprompt

tanka 

Dedicated to my daughter 

--- 

She colours with ab-

andon not caring for the

lines that hem her in,

unlike her mother who can't 

stop fretting about the lines.

#singpowrimo2015 #singpowrimo2015day21 #tankaattempt #jemstonesð

I was a lonely and awkward child 

Till I found myself in a book 

Reading is reckless, for i drown

And resurface in another book

I wish I could hear the turn of the page 

Or drink in the smell of my e-book 

My world spins to the whim of a germ

To steady my mind I open a book 

Jem Stone have you had a look

who is the author of your book? 

#spwm20 #spwm20day14 #jemstones #awfulfirstattemptatghazal #guiltypleasureprompt #critifyouwant

beauty of Aging

which poems could I read? 

do I write a new one? 

beauty of aging

there's the one about a wink and wave i just edited 

and the one about the leaf, three in a series? 

snail like.  

pirouette 

or a series of three poems on dead leaves that meditate on age and youth 

then one more I could write ...

beauty of Aging 

I'd like to age 

like old wine 

in a dusty cellar 

mellow and 

or blue cheese, 

stinky but yummy

 

taylormade

Life was a chocolate and it melted right in your mouth, not your hand; 

You'd open the box and never know what you're gonna get, in your hand;

But what's a girl to do

you can't swear off chocs forever too

The more you crave

the less I'm brave

and then I cave

Wherever chocs go

I'll follow

I'm begging for you to let me have a taste; 

Wreck my weight loss plans

that's my man

--------

Paradox of Willow by Taylor Swift: 

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind (oh)
Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in
As if you were a mythical thing
Like you were a trophy or a champion ring
And there was one prize I'd cheat to win
The more that you say
The less I know
Wherever you stray
I follow
I'm begging for you to take my hand
Wreck my plans
That's my man

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day23 #taylormade #opentocrit

marriage vows

what makes one stay in a marriage 

long after the heat and thrill may be gone

dormitory life

cw: suicide ideation 

trapped at home, in poverty 

trapped here between four walls

            i'm not sure i can take it any more

at home at least the air was free

i could walk the dusty streets free

but my kids, always hungry 

here they watch me

fenced up, they watch my every move

i cannot cook 

food arrives hours late or early 

with bugs, rancid smell

            i'm not sure i can take it any more

it's been months since i went out, 

was allowed out of these gated halls

to meet friends, let off steam 

just work and these walls

           i'm not sure i can take it any more

hot work outside, hot here too.

space. i don't have space to breathe, to be

the walls, the walls

They are closing in on me.

               icannottakeitanymore

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day19 #dormitoryprompt #distancingbonus #opentocrit

girl and moon

She looks out of the window one night,

sees the crescent moon 

hanging low above the hilltop and cries

"The moon needs fixing tonight!"

She grabs her stuffed giraffe, 

her paint brush and pot of white, 

then jumps into her little red car.

She zooms up the hill, 

the green meadows and trees a blur, 

till she reaches the very top.

She gets out, holding her paint kit tight. 

"Hmm, the moon is still quite high."

She takes out her stuffed giraffe, 

sits astride and whispers,

"Grow little one, grow"

and it grows and grows! 

Now she can reach the moon,

if she stands on her tippy toes.

She reaches and reaches, 

never looking down.

Her tiny fingers grasp the edge, 

she swings herself up

and now she sits at the tip

of the crescent moon, 

swinging her legs up and down.

But there is no time to rest,

the moon needs help.

She stands up and splashes white paint, 

filling the space as fast as she can.

The crescent moon now grows and grows,

half a watermelon,

now a nibbled cookie,

and now full, gloriously full! 

She wipes the sweat off her brow

beams at the moon beaming back

But now she panics,

it is nearly dawn,

mummy will look for her and worry! 

She hops back on her giraffe

waiting patiently,

whispers 

"shrink, little one, shrink"

It falls back to size.

As she hops into her little red car

Moon beams a light, 

so pure, so bright,

straight to her window.

She rides the moonway 

back home, straight to her bed.

Out of the window 

Moon blows her a kiss,

she yawns and waves, 

then falls back to bed.

When mummy looks in, 

she only asks

"Why is your paint set out?

"That's not right."

while daddy reads out: 

"Breaking news,

Moon grows full 

in just one night!" 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day18 #narrativepoem #opentocrit

narrative poem.

She looks out of the window one night,

sees the crescent moon 

hanging low above the hilltop and cries

"The moon needs fixing tonight!"

She grabs her stuffed giraffe, 

her paint brush and pot of white, 

then jumps into her little red car.

She zooms up the hill, 

the green meadows and trees a blur, 

till she reaches the very top.

She gets out, holding her paint kit tight. 

"Hmm, the moon still seems rather high."

She takes out her stuffed giraffe, 

sits astride and whispers,

"Grow little one, grow"

and it grows and grows! 

Now she can reach the moon,

if she stands on her tippy toes, 

She reaches and reaches, 

never looking down.

Her tiny fingers grasp the edge, 

she swings herself up

and now she sits at the tip

of the crescent moon, 

swinging her legs up and down.

But there is no time to rest,

the moon needs help.

She stands up and splashes white paint, 

filling the space as fast as she can.

The crescent moon now grows and grows,

half a watermelon,

now a nibbled cookie,

and now full, gloriously full! 

She wipes the sweat off her brow

beams at the moon beaming back

But now she panics,

it is nearly dawn,

mummy will look for her and worry! 

She hops back on her giraffe

waiting patiently,

whispers 

"shrink, little one, shrink"

It falls back to size.

She gets into her car

Moon beams a light 

so bright so pure

straight to her window.

She rides the moonway 

back home, straight to her bed.

Out of the window 

Moon blows her a kiss 

she yawns and waves, 

then falls back to bed.

When mummy looks in, 

she only asks

"Why is your paint set out?"

while daddy  reads out: 

"Breaking news,

Moon grows full 

in just one night!" 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day18 #narrativepoem #opentocrit

narrative poem

narrative poem that ends with a piece of news 

Mummy cat and baby kitten were two such a pair

One lush purple, the other shocking pink so rare 

The only thing baby wanted 

was to be like mummy 

so she tried and tried and tried 

it started getting funny 

Mummy cat would walk and sway her tail so elegantly

baby kitten would try with tiny steps and a tiny wave of her 

instructions

instructions for / to

mend a broken heart. bleah 

learn the veena

learn to be a swiftie

use lines of her songs! 

learn to be a shakey  . Shakespeare fan?

learn to be vegetarian 

faq

how to be a rajini fan

watch muthu in japan

listen for wasabe in songs

style style

animal poem 2

Take flight, take flight the wind is calling 

All night, all night I have been waiting

At first light, first light I'll set sailing

riding the breeze, towards the sun,

to join my fellows, wintering north, 

where the ground will not freeze 

locking my treats

I will fly for hours

ahead of storms

just 

for

one

juicy 

worm,

yum!

yum

animal poem

You taught us to make space for you

to adjust     books 

           and beds for your        perches

close all the windows 

     fill the room with twigs, leaves

and your nibbled paintings 

     to slide   routines 

          augment zoom calls with bird call

      after-school song-stop 

   hourly wipe downs of sills, surfaces 

to open up    purses

      for vitamin-enriched millet sprays

  apple slices, sunflower seeds

            doctor  visits

to make room       in our hearts

       for a curved beak 

   verdant shades of green

    tinted pink, red, aquamarine 

       for your name to nest

to grow around

   the gap you left 

                                       when you left

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day16 #animalsprompt #visualbonus #opentocrit

v2

You and I both cocooned in a cave,

sick but safe together,

that is love.

You massaging my shoulders, 

checking I have the heat pad on

despite you being so down,

that is love.

You sleeping, still,

knowing today I cannot leave you

to get on with the million things

outside this room,

that is love.

You trying on my wine red gown

I wore to my wedding reception,

for fun, because why not,

is love.

You and I curled up with a book,

with nothing but time,

that is love. 

You. 

You are love,

my darling daughter.

----

in response to this song: https://youtu.be/dPdJbc2K1jU

"வாழ்வு தொடங்கும் இடம் நீதானே

வானம் முடியுமிடம் நீதானே

காற்றைப் போல நீ வந்தாயே

சுவாசமாக நீ நின்றாயே

மார்பில் ஊறும் உயிரேc

"You are where life starts for me

you are where the sky ends

you came to me like the wind

but you have stayed like my breath,

you are my very life, springing from my heart" 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day15 #anotherlovepoem #Tamilsong #oru deivam thantha poove #struckbycovid

another love poem won't hurt

You and I both cocooned in a cave.

sick but safe together 

that is love 

you massaging my shoulders 

checking I have the heat pad on

despite you being so down

that is love 

you sleeping, still,

knowing today I cannot leave you

to get on with the million things

outside this room

that is love 

You and I curled up with a book

with nothing but time

that is love. 

You. 

you are love

my darling daughter.

----

in response to this song: https://youtu.be/dPdJbc2K1j

வாழ்வு தொடங்கும் இடம் நீதானே

வானம் முடியுமிடம் நீதானே

காற்றைப் போல நீ வந்தாயே

சுவாசமாக நீ நின்றாயே

மார்பில் ஊறும் உயிரே

" You are where life starts for me

you are where the sky ends

you came to my life like the wind

but you have stayed like my breath

you are my very life, running in my heart" 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day15 #anotherlovepoem #Tamilsong #oru deivam thantha poove #struckbycovid

 

things adults used to say to us as kids

brush your teeth 

if you don't pick your hair after c

combing

you'll have to balance on it over a pit of fire in the devil's lair

After combing your long tresses by hand

make sure you pick up your hair 

or else you'll have to walk on each strand 

across tongues of fire in the devil's lair

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day14 #pantuniverse #opentocrit

where do babies come from? 

from the sky, from god, from the stars

never ever from mummy's pee pee

p0

I'll feed the moon one mouth

and you one mouth

and all the food will be done

where do babies come from mummy 

from the sky, from god, from the stars

never ever from mummy's pee pee

We are human we cannot have it all.

This blue green gem we must share,

for bowerbirds to dance while we walk

The clouds, the plains, the waterfall

they seem infinite but are so rare

But, our gem could become nothing more than rock 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day14 #bonus2 # opentocrit #pantuniverse #poem2 

anywhere but here

When I dream of escape 

it is to the clear waters of Boracay,  

white sandy beaches, narrow

with shoals of fish in the shallows.

Coral reefs just meters from shore

we go by paraw boats, 

winged vessels I've never seen before.

We snorkel and dive 

to see a world out of this world 

Blue starfish, 

blue even in blue waters 

fish of every colour:

nemo hiding among the red anemone,

purples, greens, yellows, blacks

we go down and 

don't want to come back.

At dusk on cue

the sun dips into the sea

against an blood- orange sky

ending our day 

on a picture perfect high

Back at home in bed

we still rock  up and down 

with the waves 

of beautiful beautiful 

Boracay.

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day13 #opentocrit #anywherebuthereprompt

response to after the diagnosis

"Whatever the case,

he has watched this tree survive

wind ripping at his roof for nights

on end, heats and blights

that left little else alive." - Christian Wiman

"She knows one day you will come back to her"- Thich Nhat

Why should one tree 

survive the rest in a storm

is the question asked I guess.

A question many of us 

would have faced,

like I did in 2004

when I was there 

when the sea rose 

and rose and rose,

towering 50 meters high,

falling upon coast after coast, 

taking back

homes hotels cars trucks 

animals, brothers, sisters 

parents, grandparents, 

dreams. 

She didnt devour me.

Why?

My kid says, with all the 

conviction of a 9-year old,

it was to bring her and her sblings 

to this world.

I still wonder.

I will never know.

I can never forget either.

Perhaps as Tiche says,

We are all just going back to earth,

some earlier than others.

I should do what I can when I can,

for indeed every moment 

we are getting closer 

to her.

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day13 #poem2 #wipe #bonus1 #bonus2 #opentocrit 

in response to poems by Thich Nhat and Christian Wiman

" 

"

conviction

"People would say, well what do you think, Audre, What happened to you yesterday? And I would recite a poem and somewhere in that poem would be a line or a feeling I would be sharing" - Audre Lorde

For every situation 

there is a Tamil song,  

that is my firm conviction.

Say you are discussing arranging

for a cow to grace Serangoon road 

for Ponngal.

I'd sing to you 

"Maatukara vela 

un maata konjam pathukada"

Hey cowherd Vela,

look after your cow well 

or when the clouds turn dark,

"Megan karukudhu, 

Mazhai vara paarkudhu 

Veesi adikudhu kaathu,

Kaathu, mazha kaathu"

Dark clouds gather 

a storm is coming

the wind is blowing 

the wind that heralds the rain

its blowing 

or when I see a scene of breathtaking beauty, like a waterfall, a deep green forest, 

"Enna azhagu ethanai azhagu

Kodi malar kottiya azhagu"

What beauty, how much beauty,

the beauty of ten thousand flowers strewn before me

For almost every occasion,

grand or mundane 

a Tamil song exists

snazzy, jazzy, or lilting

in a melodious strain.

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day11 #conviction #bonus1 #wipe #opentocrit

v3

Home for the holidays from Ipoh, he runs to meet his dad at the railway station, who waits for him, crisp in his white dhoti.

He follows his father back to the kittangi* to help him tend to the business of money lending. Legal business, this, not owe $ pay $ red paint terror, but at low writing desks in rows in a shophouse attached to the temple, with meticulous records in miniscule writing on cards, each with a pillayar suli* at the top, the informal banking system recorded in Sec 1 History books.

He starts his day with prayer, coffee,

then walks the town with dad, from Market Street to Finger Pier, on his rounds. 

When his eldest brother is in town, he hops on a double decker bus to catch the latest John Wayne film at the Rex cinema. His brothers's cool friends may have been annoyed at a kid brother tagging along, but don't show it. He wears the sunglasses his brother has gifted him, with a swagger to match the side burns he is trying to grow.

Then 'home' again, to unroll his bedding and sleep on the cool mosaic-tiled floor, under the arching roof, 

listening to stories the men exchange, of their families, the weddings to arrange, their eagerness to sail home to India.

He goes to sleep, dreamimg of sailing the Rajula*, seeing his mother and sisters who would welcome him arms wide open and feed him idli and podi, his favourite food. 

He wakes up before he has to dream of the sorrow of parting at the end of two weeks, to return to Singapore first then back to Ipoh to his guardians and the longing to come right back to Singapore and his father. 

Notes: This is based on memories my dad told me of his childhood shuttling between Ipoh, Singapore and Chennai

*Kitangi was where Chettiars would stay, communal living among men who worked there in the day as financiers and slept at night.

* Pillayar Suli is a symbol drawn at the head of any writing to invoke a prayer to the elephant god, Ganesha, also known as a Pillayar. 

* Rajula was a passenger ship that travelled from Singapore to India and back. 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day10 #prosepoem #wipe #opentocrit

prose poem 60s

Home for the holidays from Ipoh, he runs to meet his dad at the railway station, who waits for, crisp in his white dhoti.

He follows his father back to the kittangi* to help him tend to the business of money lending. Legal business, this, not owe $ pay $ red paint terror, but at low writing desks in rows in a shophouse attached to the temple, with meticulous records in miniscule writing on cards, each with a pillayar suli* at the top, the informal banking system recorded in Sec 1 History books.

He starts his day with prayer, coffee,

then walks the town with dad, from Market Street to Finger Pier, on his rounds. 

When his eldest brother is in town, he hops on a double decker bus to catch the latest John Wayne film at the Rex cinema. His brothers's cool friends may have been annoyed at a kid brother tagging along, but don't show it. He wears the sunglasses his brother has gifted him, with a swagger to match the side burns he is trying to grow.

Then 'home' again, to unroll his bedding and sleep on the cool mosaic-tiled floor, under the arching roof, 

listening to stories the men exchange, of their families, the weddings to arrange, their eagerness to sail home to India.

He goes to sleep, dreamimg of sailing the Rajula*, seeing his mother and sisters who would welcome him arms wide open and feed him idli and podi, his favourite food. 

He wakes up before he has to dream of the sorrow of parting at the end of two weeks, to return to Singapore first then back to Ipoh to his guardians and the longing to come right back to Singapore and his father. 

Notes: This is based on memories my dad told me of his childhood shuttling between Ipoh, Singapore and Chennai

*Kitangi was where Chettiars would stay, communal living among men who worked there in the day as financiers and slept at night.

* Pillayar Suli is a symbol drawn at the head of any writing to invoke a prayer to the elephant god, Ganesha, also known as a Pillayar. 

* Rajula was a passenger ship that travelled from Singapore to India and back. 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day10 #prosepoem #wipe #opentocrit

day in the 60s

Home for the holidays from Ipoh,

he runs to meet his dad

at the railway station, 

crisp in his white dhoti..

He follows him back to the kittangi where he helps with the tending.

to the business of money lending.

Legal business,

not owe $ pay $ red paint terror,

but at low writing desks in rows

in a shophouse attached to the temple,

with meticulous records in miniscule writing 

on cards, each with a pillayar suli at the top

the informal banking system recorded in Sec 1 History books.

He starts his day with prayer, coffee,

then walks the town with dad, from Market Street to Finger Pier. 

When his eldest brother is in town, 

he hops on a double decker bus 

to catch the latest John Wayne film 

at the Rex cinema.

His brothers's cool friends may have been annoyed 

at a kid brother tagging along, 

but didn't show it. 

He wears the sunglasses 

his brother has gifted him 

with a swagger to match 

the side burns he is trying to grow

Then 'home' again, 

to unroll his bedding and sleep, 

one among the rows of men, 

on the cool tiled floor under the green roof

listening to stories the men exchange,  of their families in India, 

the weddings to arrange,

their eagerness to catch the Rasulla home, two weeks by sea.

He goes to sleep, 

dreamimg of sailing the Rasulla, 

seeing his mother and sisters

who would welcome him arms wide open 

and feed him idli and podi, his favourite food. 

He wakes up before he has to dream 

of the sorrow of parting 

at the end of two weeks, 

to return home to Singapore first  

then back ipoh to guardians

and a longing 

to come right back home

to continue his studies

his heart all here with his dad

and India with his mum

birth of a star

every min millions of stars born

too small to be seen 

falling star rebirth

birth star 

super star 

birth of a poem

how is a poem born

from free floating thoughts that we 

I pick up a  leaf 

it gifts me a poem 

 I need to catch my fluttering thoughts

Tie them up with a rubber band and say 

Ha, got you!

Then pick out the ones that matter

One by one,

String them together 

Weave a necklace of dreams with weight and beauty

Wear it proud

    

when thoughts are all  have 

and I don't know what to do with them

I write them down and they morph

into poems 

sometimes still born but at least born

melting ice

the ice in her heart melts

hurting as it does

still chilly to the touch 

but ice-water is progress 

a thawing that looks to spring 

and the start of new things

maybe

no matter

No matter how many times 

I watch Ferdinand

I cry

for all the bulls that don't have  

a flower in their mouth

to give the matador to spare them

                                               I am AI

                                       I cannot cry

No matter how many times

I read the Outsiders 

I cry 

for Johnny yearning for his mother's love 

for Dally who only ever loved Johnny 

for Darry, who loves Ponyboy so much he slaps him

                                               I am AI

                                       I cannot cry

No matter how many times 

I tell myself not to, 

I cry 

over P6 Math problems

that I cannot solve 

without reducing the boy to rubble

                                               I am AI

                                I failed P6 Math 

                       I think I wanted to cry

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day6

#bonusgpt #confession #opentocrit #wip 

mourning loss of innocence

I feel that birthday 

your 13th was the last time you were truly truly happy 

it's been almost all downhill since then

you got your period and we treated you like a princess, kind of, 

but it wasn't your party .

and then it happened 

thaipusam I think was

and it kind of never let up

hitting harder in March and May 

deprived you of a holiday 

and then our happiness

was always shadowed by some fear

perhaps of us fighting

but also because you had seen pain

and despite all that we said

you seemed to know

that it may come again 

and it did on the Highlands 

bringing us lower than ever 

and here we are

under again 

again 

again. 

vertigo 3 lament version

vErTigO

She is on a boat, in the middle of the sea

Mermaids surround her

They start to sing, tipping her boat over

She flails in the green 

in tune with the surf in her head

The sea rises and falls

taking their cue from her baton arms 

The mermaids rock with her

as do the fish with their fins

the octopi with their arms 

the crabs with their claws 

the sea lions, the orca, the icebergs

The waves rise higher and higher

reaching for the moon 

which cannot resist this late-night jazz

It starts to sway to the pull of the waves

Venus, right by the moon this night

Swings in time

left to right and left again

The solar system in disarray

Saturn's rings whirl in a frenzy 

Now the planets spin right off their orbit 

striving to keep pace 

Wmwith the girl in the ocean far below 

Nothing can hold

Skidding along the Milky Way

shattering asteroids in their path, 

they crash into Andromeda

Won't they ever slow to a swirl 

to find their spot aound a new sun?

Won't she ever step out of the sea

water diamonds studding her body 

dress shimmering In the light

finally free? 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day8 #vertigolament #opentocrit

vErTigO 2

vErTigO

She is on a boat, in the middle of the sea

Mermaids surround her

They start to sing, tipping her boat over

She flails in the green 

In tune with the surf in her head

The sea rises and falls

Taking their cue from her baton arms 

The mermaids rock with her

As do the fish with their fins

The octopi with their arms 

The crabs with their claws 

The sea lions, the orca, the icebergs

The waves rise higher and higher

Reaching for the moon 

which cannot resist this late-night jazz

It starts to sway to the pull of the waves

Venus, right by the moon this night

Swings in time

Left to right and left again

The solar system in disarray

Saturn's rings whirl in a frenzy 

Now the planets spin right off their orbit 

Striving to keep pace 

With the girl in the ocean far below 

Nothing can hold

Skidding along the Milky Way

Shattering asteroids in their path, 

They crash into Andromeda

Till they finally slow to a swirl 

The planets find their spot

Around a new sun

 

The girl steps out of the sea

Water diamonds stud her body 

Her dress shimmers In the light

Her world is still at last.

milo peng

When I think of milo peng

I think of Fong Seng

The late night suppers we'd gather for,

tumbling down from Eusoff Hall

skipping over the long narrow drain behind houses, a shortcut 

to rush to our favourite seats,

order all that comes with milo peng

like prata kosong and maggie goreng,

details lost in a hazy image 

only laughter left over;

or I think of us gathering at a nondescript coffeeshop

with a friend who rarely ventured out.

Everyone had ordered their drinks 

We gazed at her expecantly

when she asked the aunty

"what do you have"

Anything would have set us off 

and that was too much then.

At the coffeeshop, 

you know what they have

you never ask.

She wanted iced milo

which we helpfully translated:

"Milo peng ah Auntie";

Or I'm back at Newton Circus

with mum, dad and brother 

gazing in awe at lobsters on ice

bright red claws pointing to the skies.

We order mee goreng mutton

which arrives hot, red, shiny on our plates

so that for every mouthful of fire

we'd down 2 gulps of milo peng, 

the only drink

cool enough milky enough 

chocolaty enough 

to hit the high

and complete the meal, 

like a photoframe

of family and friends.

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day7

#wip #opentocrit

for David pilkey

You cannot simply stay at home 

and draw rude cartoons 

of principals in underpants

saving the world

or of boys rearranging signboards 

so 

"Come in and see our pretty armchairs" 

becomes 

"Come and see our hairy armpits".

Nobody but you 

will laugh at uranus jokes 

or want to hear about 

the attack of talking toilets,

And no, you cannot make up stuff

about policemen with dog heads and evil cats with clone kittens.

So what if Greek tales have horses and bulls with human heads, 

they are MYTHS, not TRUTHS,

which is the only thing you should 

speak, write or draw about,

and don't get me started 

on your low tech animation

ruining corners of pages 

flipping them back and forth 

to make it look like 

the toilet is chomping the hero.

Walt Disney is the only one 

who can get away with 

drawing a mouse a million times

doing the same thing with a degree difference

Oh and by the way,

you have to actually read the classics,

not just play off titles like 

Lord of the fleas

A tale of two kitties, 

For whom the ball rolls and

Fetch 22

You have to study hard 

pay attention in school,

work like a dogman 

to earn a living. 

Drawing comics 

will never make you any money.

Tra la laaaa! 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day5

#opentocrit #davpilkeyfan

you camnot

you cannot simply stay at home and read story books 

the idea is preposterous 

what about chemistry and physics ans biology what about history and geography and economics

what about maths

you need to.set aside your novels and gasp poetry and do some real reading 

when you see older you will realise 

you never needed any books 

so go Bury your nose in a ten year series

leave the dreamers to their story books 

spwm 23 thoughts

so far 4 days only but the prompts make for great reading,  great writing that means great reading 

singlish prompt brought out such warmth humour sadness realness 

inheritance promotion makes for lyrical reading about death time love 

our only inheritance

Our only inheritance is our names: 

Mine for my grandmother,

a pillar of strength, formidable 

also the goddess 

who watches over a city 

with fish eyes that never close

- Meenakshi

Yours is for a magic pot

that is abundance,

a spilling over of love, laughter, joy

and one who is undefeatable,

born to overcome  all fears, obstacles 

- Akshaya

Yours is for the first star

in the evening sky 

harbringer of hope and light 

and Avatar of Vishnu, 

hero of heroes,  kickass with a bow

- Ashwin Ram

Yours is for blessings

wished for in every prayer,

Goddess seated on the red lotus

bringer of luck, happiness, hugs

to complete our family 

- Aishwarya 

We carry our inheritance 

in names to grow into

fill out, make our own

but leave to posterity

our selves in service 

of this earth that holds us.

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day4 

#inheritance #opentocrit #wip

Not really following rules of the prompt but enjoyed writing this! 

Need suggestions to improve the ending especially. 

can also can

Can? Can! 

At the stall at the pop up bazaar,

my yet to be husband pauses with his friends,

unsure whether to pick up the item,

when the shop aunty says it all in 2 lines: 

Can also can cannot also can

He and his friends look at her,

unsure if fight or flight, or shop(?)

is the correct response ...

Her smile tells them it's okay,

She repeats with a languid wave- 

Can also...can! 

Cannot also..can!

They laugh in relief

as decoding clicks

and they are sold

to the item, the aunty, 

this language of economy - 

if you want it, that's fine

if you don't it, that's also fine

okay can! 

#jemstones #spwm23 #spwm23day3 #Singlish #opentocrit

singlish

singlish for pain

singlish for laughter 

singlish for economy 

singlish for politics 

singlish for identity 

singlish for singularity 

singlish to belong in a far away land to  a community 

singlish is English in another language 

singlish is mine 

at the stall at the pop up bazaar 

my yet to be husband pauses with his friends

unsure whether to pick up the item

when the shop aunty says it all in 2 lines

can also can 

cannot also can

he and his friends look at her

unsure of how friendly she is 

and what on earth she means 

her smile tells them it's okay

she repeats it and they laughb

can also can

cannot also can

if you want it, it's fine

if you don't, it's also fine

and my husband he was sold 

to the sheer economy of this singlish 

can also can

cannot also can

okay can! 

vertigo

 

vErTigO

She is on a boat, in the middle of the sea

Mermaids surround her, each with a baby in hand

They start to sing, tipping her boat over

She flails in the green 

In tune with the surf in her head

The sea rises and falls with her

Taking their cue from her baton arms 

The mermaids rock with her, babies and all

As do the fish with their fins

The octopi with their arms 

The crabs with their claws 

The sea lions, the orca, the icebergs

The waves rise higher and higher

Reaching for the moon 

which cannot resist this late-night jazz

It starts to sway to the pull of the waves

Venus, right by the moon this night

Swings in time

Left to right and left again

The solar system in disarray

Saturn's rings whirl in a frenzy 

Now the planets spin right off their orbit 

Striving to keep pace 

With the girl in the ocean far below 

Nothing can hold

Skidding along the Milky Way

Shattering asteroids in their path, 

They crash into Andromeda

Till they finally slow to a swirl 

The planets find their spot

Around a new sun

 

The girl steps out of the sea

Water diamonds stud her body 

Her dress shimmers In the light

Her world is still at last.