You left a book at my window,
a book quite fresh smelling, minty,
Smooth pearly white pages,
And a lovely story to read.
I doubted what the book would hold
but nevertheless, I opened it
and immediately, I was spun
Into a tale of smiles, joy, laughter
of a boy whose eyes twinkled and charmed
And he was smooth in his talking, jocular in manner,
and never failed to make me admire.

Hey my little
sweetheart, delightful kinda thang
With eyes like mine, I'm glad we share
those twinkles in 'em
I just wanna say that I kinda
Miss having you around and so
I wish upon the stars I see all
the time so I may see you
once more and we'll talk
and have fun and
have the best day ever!

When I'm 15,
I want to be happy and free.
I want to do what I want to do
and not give a ******* **** what others say

because it's been too long
I've been pleasing others while desperately wanting to be truly who I am,
trying to tie my lips and not say what I have in mind,
afraid of what others might think,
and afraid that I won't be able to rebut their hurtful, insensitive remarks

I want to free,
because that's all that really matters
what I think is kept in here
and doing what I please
is what pleases me.

I want to be amazing,
a change of new skin,
a new beginning,
a new me,
with a smarter brain and more wit,
to challenge the foes and
give no ****,

this is who I'd like to be
and starting from being fifteen,

I will be a new person.

Flashbacks at the back of my mind,
I sit there for hours on end,
grinning like an idiot, laughing to myself,
and still I haven't caught a shadow of you.
Between the times I am breathing,
I only wish to catch even a silhouette, slipping by,
darting among the crowds, even if it's
away from me, away.

It is dark and everything is quiet.
Like a step taken would be so soft
the sound would elude ears
and the traveller would smoothly transit
from one point to another.

The cold granite pavement is
the only thing telling me this place
exists.

My eyes are open, or are they closed?
I blink.
There is no difference.
But it is so dark I feel the black
is poring into my eyes
and covering me like
an invisible, untouchable, distinct
sort of
a thick, giant parcel of air
or space, even
that transcends my field of vision.

I am lost, but I don't feel like it.
There is some sort of freedom and peace
while walking along path I set myself.
It is just walking, simply walking
no plans made, no trails followed
simply walking.

All along the way I've walked,
I've only heard the sound of my feet in this quietness.
The faint rush of breath out my nostrils
sounds so light, almost nonexistent,
as if I've been holding my breath
or I never breathed this whole way or
even breathed at all.

Time. I've forgotten the meaning of time.
What is time?
I don't know when I started walking
but from then till now,
I don't know how much time has passed.
10 minutes? 2 hours? 1 day? 3 weeks? 1 year?
A century?
How do you know?

No matter the length I've walked,
my feet do not hurt at all.
In fact, with every contact
with the ground,
the muscles get soothed and they
sigh with pleasure
despite not knowing
when they'll ever stop
walking.

Alas! I see Eigengrau!
and slowly, the faint outline of
toys, books, mats, a telescope
come into view.
But very, very faint.
Only the very top parts
are a little bit lighter than the rest.
Enough to make out what they are, though.

My feet sense something different.
Before, they walked on
cool, hard and sure granite.
Now, they feel a soft carpet,
little furry things tingling the toes
that go easy on the soles.

Oops!

I almost tripped!
I see a plush toy of a planet, the Earth.
And starry things are sprawled all over
where my field of vision can reach.

Walking closer and closer,
a window comes into view.
shutters are white in colour, but
tucked neatly at the top.
Now light spills in
and there's a tiny figure
whose breathing I hear.
A slow, peaceful rhythm,
devoid of fatigue, stress and dread.
A being not aware of my presence.
It is-sorry-he is
a little boy, wearing blue Power Ranger pajamas,
clutching tightly to a bolster, covered slightly
by a recently-ironed blanket.

Curiosity takes over
I walk to the little boy,
slowly turns his face over...
brushes his hair off his face....
and he's-he's-

Oh  my  god

That face.

I used to see

in the mirror...



Sixty years ago.

I am tired. It is night.

My father tucks me away for bed. He says he doesn't feel like telling me stories today.
He pulls up the blanket to my chest and blows me a kiss and closes the door.

It's a cool night and it is dark. It may be almost midnight.

The sky is clear. I see lots of stars, appearing one by one. It's so beautiful. I feel at peace.

I think tonight, I'm not going to have nightmares anymore. I think I can finally dream.

But I can't fall asleep yet. So I close my eyes and wait.
And Dad didn't tell me stories. He says I can try to make up my own stories.

I open my eyes and look at them. They're really pretty. There's so many.
I don't think I can count all of them. I can only count till ten.

I always wonder about the sky, especially at night.
Dad says there are planets out there, but I can't see them.

I really want to see them. Perhaps I can be an astronaut.
They go to the moon and into space. That sounds really cool.

If they go to space, I wonder if they get scared or lonely
because it's dark. I'm only a bit scared of the dark.
Dad said, "That's great."

I wish I was a spaceship, so that I can travel to all the planets.
I can plant some grass on them so that they'll look pretty.
I want to leave some messages there for aliens. My classmates think aliens are scary, but that's not true.
I like them.

If I could give them a message, it would say:
Dear friendly aliens,

I like you because you are like a friend. I don't know you but I think because you are nice,
you are my friend. I want to see how you look like. Maybe you can take a picture for me.
My friends are scared of you and think you are ugly. They are wrong. You must be pretty.
You are from the universe.

Come and visit me sometime. I feel a bit bored at night. Tell me stories so I can sleep well.

Thank you very much.

Love,
Htet Hyin Aei Dary

I am still looking at the stars, imagining. What if an alien came to my bedroom? We would talk a lot.
I'd ask him a lot of questions and give him a drawing I did of the moon.

I wish I was an astronaut. I want to explore other planets so much. I am just so curious.

My eyelids are getting a little bit droopy. I wonder how being a star would feel like. They are so far away.

Dad says that some of them are dead but I can still see them because their light takes a long time to reach us.

I hope it isn't long until I become an astronaut.

I fall asleep.

No the bed bugs don't bite,
but the things I see in my dreams might.

Do you ever wonder
What to do when you're awake
When the sun hasn't seeped through
And brought the light of day?

Sit in front of the computer
and stare blankly
waiting for the Sun to rise
and the world to shine?

I am very bored
Waiting over here
And there's nothing I can do
but bear with the silence.

The striking contrast of the branches against the blue
so blue it's so bright  
just like how
people are the branches
and I am the blue.

I'd love to spread out over the vastness of space
be bright, bright
but the branches
scratch against the blue
so people are forced to close
their eyes and they cannot
see me, afterall,
in the end.

he loves that amazing person
                                      in his life
but all that he would ever wish:
may I express my longing,
my desire
to love more than I can ever give?

can he secretly share a kiss?
a sizzling but sweet spark
that none can intrude in;
beauty in the dark.

he only wishes to
able to walk around town,
arms around his lover,
        or just holding hands, giving coded glances
because to each other, they are bound.

But Alas! society
considers their actions to be depravity
minds of millions so ignorant and selfish!
I am very disappointed by humanity.

the sanctity of the [insert religious book]
all the rules they must follow
or so they claim
why are their heads so hollow?

Love is love, no matter felt by whom,
why does gender have to matter
I dare ask?
You better get your senses back together.

if you don't,
he cannot freely love his dearest him,
she cannot kiss her lover's lips under the stars,
and only desperately wish for a whim.

because of restrictions thrown about
set by whom?
who dares decides what they can
                        and cannot do?

So smooth and beautiful in their curve
Of iridescent wings that let them take flight
Softly resting their tangy feet on bright petals
How beautiful and intricate are they, a divine creation of nature
I have a confession to make, however, that oddly,
My heart breaks whenever I see a butterfly.
Oh butterfly, you are such a beautiful thing,
So innocent and beautiful a creature may be,
Minding your own business and floating around the air,
But yet, your beautiful presence or a sight of the lovely you,
Is a ***** to my heart I cannot remove.
Just like how he has so accurately stated
The everything that seems perfect is not true.
All that is beautiful, all that is fair,
Like you butterfly, and yet
My heart still hangs in despair.

Still lingering around my mind [8]
The scent of my memories [7]
Wisps float around. [4]

Still want to catch a hold of you [8]
Flower, and breathe the fragrance [7]
You're redolent of __

Still the thought of you makes me mad, [8]
Heart burns like fire, cheeks hot red. [7]
A hopeless strive to grasp. [6]

Bring me across
Far away, somewhere new
To see and feel
A thousand news
And imagine
ten thousand impossible things
including walking on saturn's rings
walk me down
some abandoned path
lead me to the fountain of youth
and stay young forever
so that we can explore the world
and never get old or too tired

Made from cocoa beans
And highly sweet.
So delightfully delicious.

I hear that you are leaving for India tomorrow.

A long flight on which you will take your slumber
travelling among the blue skies,
sleeping on cloud 9.
May you have the sweetest dream ever
and when you finally step on ground,
I wish you an adventure so vivid and satisfying,
that you'll come back and retell stories
and we'll have fun together, too.

This summer may be just beginning,
for you at least,
while the sun is going down for me.

May it be filled with mirth and
I bless you with every
single happiness you can ever
feel in every possible
moment.

Be safe, my dear friend,
for I love you so.

Stop being such a gentleman,
If you can help it,
and tell me explicitly,
that you want me to go
the f*ck away.

Is it so hard,
To just let go of you?

Light-headed, dreamy, fantasies...

Ready to explode in your mind, a million places we could go but never set foot on;

Ten thousand things I could do but could never have done; I wished they'd come true.

Makes me feel like with just some simple tunes and a relaxed mind,

Blanketed and snug from the cold of reality that sits surrounding me, never ceasing to go away,

but for a moment as I keep on listening,

I am happy and I learn to love things rather than hate and be bitter.

A rhythm, a beat
the rustle of the leaves
a hush, the bus
better run fast to catch up
the trees, the songs
you hear as they play on your ipod
forgot 'bout the world
reality kills
and only you can find solace
in the tub-tub-tub
of your footsteps as you walk home
and feel comfortable
a book in your hands,
never really feeling alone.

after a tiring day,
I am here, typing away
on my TPC.
recalling the past events that happened
earlier today;
she looked at me
dead looked eyes,
not a happy smile was
formed on her face,
in fact, the little details
the slight curve downwards,
the distrust I saw in her eyes,
as she, I'm sure, wasn't pleased to see
and probably dislike boiled in her,
as her words shot through me
like a million metal particles
agonizingly deep
difficult and perhaps, impossible to remove.
And as I go around begging
to please just join a group of humans
all none of superior or inferior rank,
but all of them rejected me
and I felt like a dog.
not even human, and so humiliated
I wondered
what did I ever do
To  deserve  this?

What have I become?
A sad, pathetic loner
going around begging?
Is there no pride or dignity left inside
of this mind,
which only wants to
complete a school task?

Time and again,
I feel like a
dog
living under a bridge
tasting the bitter rain that trickles
down
and I feel so very
sick.

I'm gonna hide behind the ******* stakes
and watch the fires ignite.
The slow and guaranteed burn of the wood
To turn it into blackened charcoal.

Be patient, the fires won't disappoint me.
They are truly loyal. Only they are the ones
I can count on
To get things done.

I always fix the broken windows of our house
3 years old and still working well
Aged with memories and beautiful pieces
The walls a deep, rich colour, which represents the strong bond
That we used to have.

I'm so tired, so tired to be the working man
To keep oiling the hinges of the door,
to keep throwing out the trash
And admitting that I soiled the floor when I did not.
Because I didn't want you to take the blame.

The wind wails loudly at night and a storm brewed, far away
I didn't want you to be scared, so I huddled up near you
And kept you warm.
I'm glad you did the same and wrapped a thicker blanket around me
And we slept, snug and happy.

I was thinking, what would I do?
If I didn't have a good friend like you.
But someone else came and took my place,
or rather, took away
Or actually, mess up the fabric of our blanket I took so long mending over and over again.

I remember that night when it rained real bad and the rain poured in,
wetting your side of the bed. I gently lifted you to my side and slept on the cold wet side, because I wanted you to have a warm, toasty sleep.
I totally thought you and I could sleep well together and that even though,
sometimes, you liked the neighbour's cookies next door, you would still be there.
You would still hug me tight and wrap me around in those thick blankets.
And we'd fall asleep together, like always.

Finally, I can't take it anymore. I'm tired, really tired.
I've been fixing the leaks and rusty door hinges all around the house for too long.
Maybe it's time to take a break.
Maybe it's time to finally leave and I don't even want to care anymore.
Maybe it's time you sleep alone and for me to say goodbye, to this house and to you
forever.

I don't
Conform to rules
And
Expectations.

Don't make me.

Come, sweet sleep,
Lay me down on a bed of fresh sheets.
Pour over me a cloud of tranquility
and dose me in your heavenly bliss.
Let the blankets close me snug
and the breeze be cool enough.
Gently shut my eyelids soft,
Carry me away to my dreams aloft.

I hurt every time.
A little part of me is so fragile,
just like glass.
Whenever that glass breaks inside of me,
it pierces the tissues in me
and some are so long and sharp
they stick out of my skin
and I walk around like
A sad little person
but everyone sees me
and yet nobody cares.

Dull and bland
But it leads me
Thinking,
Something New.

He caught me by surprise
I never expected to blush
when an abrasive, goth dude
said my *** was cute

His clothes are all black,
as black as his hair,
and his heels are as high
as the moon in the sky

He is a criminal
and I am terrified
but more so of how hot
he looks when he talks

He has a beautiful face
so perfect in all proportions
and I am sure that I may
be turning very gay

He looks hot as a woman too
and my cheeks flush when he
dances with that sass
I have a ***** thanks to his ***

He is so funny
not in the usual way
but it's funny how things got
when I feel in love with the guy from the donut shop.

i pull my dainty finger
out of the endless sea
and upon it I see my reflection
tears of longing, my face is streaked.

the water which you rowed over,
the water which brought you far away,
the water which will decide your fate
at the water, for you, I await.

Crazy, Mad, Lunatic, Daft,
I just like me like that.

I kind of like you,
do you like me too?

Why is it taking
So ****** long
To find you?

You grow and grow onto me
Spreading of the different planes of your existence,
Creating a slow, deepening hole
In which I keep falling deeper into.

And I see you, smiling,
Having fun
While I sit here and wait
For a day to come
But you, you will never think
Of me while I endlessly
miss you, as much as my eyes can
blink
And the tears start of fall
Because you are as important to me
As much as it feels wrong
To like someone who doesn't even
Care at all.

I was a child once
And it was truly, truly fun
I had dinosaurs for company
And when I was free, I was a Power Ranger
With the rest of the elite team in blue, green, pink and yellow
And I was the special red.
I swam through great seas and turquoise water
With mermaids
And talked to princesses while I skipped away on an adventure
If I had magic in me, I could live as a child again.
And I wake up, this fine day
The sky is blue, strewn with wispy white clouds
Floating away, above my head
Far, far away.
I wish, Please, just once
Take me away
From this boring world I despise to live
In because
It’s not the way it used to be
And everything’s so much harder
When you know you have to be so alone
And no one’s going to help you along the way, because, just because, you reach a certain age
And people expect of you to behave in a most ‘mature way’, and that you couldn’t believe in what you
Used to believe in
Those magical stories, those boundless wild imaginations of how the world’s going to be
like
And of how I could achieve anything I wanted, and most of all
I was free.
I want to live again, be free
So that I didn’t have to listen to all those expectations of society and experience
changes, horrible changes that I go through during puberty
Those changes really ****.
And people expect me to know about ‘reality’ and that you can’t achieve your dreams even if you tried really hard
But I know that they’re only saying that because they want to reach out their hands towards the night sky,
Enclose those stars which are the burning flames, my wildest, craziest ideas and dreams
And extinguish the fire, because once, their stars died too, in the same
Cruel
Way.
I try to forget about all this, and imagine a most beautiful place
I breathe in the air; it’s fresh and so clean
I try to think of this:
A cozy little mountain, topped with white, cool snug blankets
Of crystalline snow, a gathering of piney, tall giants
And then also, another mountain, but cows graze
Over warm, soft, so soft
Of grass, like milk slowly running down the mountainside and making everything it touches feel smooth
A cool breeze comes this way, carrying scents of far away
Valleys of mountains stretch for miles and miles, into the distance, the sign of a slowly rising sun
A tiny spill of a light pink inkbottle on a parchment of lavender and sunrise orange
I slowly see pixies hiding in their hollows and a dash of green flashes by!
Could it be, a Power Ranger? Saving the world from evil monsters and dictators
And clad in Stylish Spandex.
Slowly, like a small somersault in the air
I rise and the breeze lifts me off the soft green carpet
I can fly.
My first destination-the mountains and I sing as I go:
Here I come, my precious cones
Of snow and trees and mountains trolls
Wherever you’re hiding I’ll find you there
Better get hiding, trolls, and beware!
I’ll slide down your ice caps and into the sea
Where I’ll swim with the fishes and mermaids who’ll greet me!
With their angelic voices, harmonious in tune and melody
And their dances under the sea, with such elegant beauty!
Here, a shark has corals for dinner
fishes waves at me as I swim by!
I become a dolphin, with lengths I swim
Up, down, Up, down
In synchronizing rhythm of the bobbing waves
With a great, big, final leap
My first ascend towards the light blue, sprout wings, fairy wings, ones with glitter and pink and more shiny things
Am I finally free?
I can go where none as gone before-
Into dangerous caves and rivers and seas
carrying only a bottle of water with me.
My yearning for adventure and the sweet thrill it brings
when you step outside and await great things
It’s amazing. You feel like you could conquer the world. You can do anything.
Nobody’s going to scoff or ridicule
Or push down that spark you have inside
Your glowing heart, beating with the soft rhythm of gentle, falling rain
and yet so passionate and fierce, ready to lose, waiting to gain.
My costumes! How bright and wonderful!
You could just take off your clothes
run around the park,
and yet No one will mind.
You didn’t have to worry, not a single thing
About a single hair or girls’ monthly gifts
You were carefree and free, that you could
Possibly. Ever. Be.
Oh, but that’s so sad, because nothing
Ever lasts, even if the sweetest of my youth
And the loveliest of my days
Must end.
I realise, oh, the pain!
I wish I could just bring back one more day!
Of blissful moments and wishes
Blown away by the wind.
All those memories, I shall bottle up
in a small treasure box.
I’ll never forget them. I can only cherish and savour
the wonderful memories, but never quite escaping
the reality of growing up, and always ponder
what if…
I could be a child again.

They loved each other
They showed it passionately.

In front of billions of eyes,
they could've kissed,
they could've loved even more,
romance stronger than before.

Feelings were, however, locked in ice
And the two are helpless to just watch
as what could've bloomed, what could've soared
stayed still and couldn't move at all.

Drink a drop
Or maybe not.

Of lemonade juice
And wipe your mouth dry.

Feel refreshed
When your thirst is quenched,

And take a bite
Out of triangle shaped sandwiches.

Inhale some clean new air
Close your eyes and rock in your chair.

Take a book out
Lying on your lap,

Open it up and start to read,
Enter a world of infinite possibilities.

As you read, let the lemonade tingle your tongue,
And the blueberry sandwiches warm up your mind.

The puffs of fluffy   little
        condensed   water   droplets

lift me up, higher   ...   higher

              till I am free

of  tumultuous,       raging   thoughts
        
            where I lie down and look up at the sky

            and            what       it        has        to
                                                  offer              me.

Hopefully not. I wonder how if you know. You probably do.

Do you... enjoy the little 'secret'?

Jovial laughter and those creases, sharing lines with the wrinkles
On your soft, sweet face,
of leather-like, but creamy skin,
The edges of your mouth go up
And they form benevolent crinkles
I always picture you having.
When you chuckle or give a laugh
And make me smile at the same time too.
Glinting spectacles
and a big ***** to hug me tight
Safe from harm, hidden from sight.
You smell fresh and you smell like you. The scent
I will always remember
Even when you're not here.
Your arms go round lovingly behind my back and tucks me
Like I'm a little child, like I always am in your kind eyes.
You love me so much and I can only return
So much but it's not enough
Because I'd like to give you more than the universe itself,
to wish you a happy, peaceful slumber,
when you march towards a better karmic reincarnation,
when I finally have to let go of you,
I dread the day I kiss you last
And tell you how much,
even though I say it all the time,
I really do,
I really do,
I really do,
love you from the bottom of my heart.

Love - it does not necessarily mean romance, or
silly, promised-filled, tragedies like Romeo and Juliet's,
or shallow, innocent love of teenagers, who are just starting to experience
what it's like and want to know more;

Love can mean the kind you feel for people
you care about, like your parents,
your siblings, your friends...
People whom you'd love unconditionally.
And those people probably love you back
despite your flaws and endless mistakes,
they'd forgive you
and sometimes,
they try to help you get on the right path
and correct those flaws so that
You become a better person.

But what does loving a stranger mean?
Isn't that how we all came to be?
Your mother loved a stranger, and got you.
Her mother loved a stranger and loved your grandfather,
and his father loved a stranger, your great-grandmother...

This beautiful cycle of loving strangers begins our time on Earth.

How do you know that you love a stranger?
Firstly, you might think that their fingers are rather bony
and maybe they way they stand are a little odd,
and the way they walk make you cringe inside 'coz it's awkward?
And their hair is a little too long, when they say a joke,
their lips curl up at the top and their eyes flit upwards
and you feel so uncomforable looking at them.
                     Slowly, you realise though...
after talking to them a little more,
becoming better acquaintances,
and then friends,
you don't notice those 'flaws' anymore (they were never things I should criticise in the first place)
In fact, you start to love them, and like it when they do that.
It's a unique part of them that you want to keep seeing.
You feel guilty and sorry for even hating them in the first place,
because afterall, they are beautiful!

            Lastly, when you depart,
you know you really love them because
           you'll miss those tiny details even more
since you're never going to see those lovely beauties again.
*(Oh, how I regret not fully appreciating them!)

Stuck in a ditch
and crying for help
would be so embarrassing
because it is obvious
that all the eyes looking down
hold no interest
in lending a hand
so crying for help
would only show
how much of a lowlife
they make me
out to be.

Her hair is straight and long,
black as ebony, lips are pink
but she isn’t quite Snow White.
Her skin is tanned and her face has spots,
she isn’t that tall and she doesn’t have any curves
At all.
However, much like Snow White, they both share
A common taste in clothes,
shoes,
favourite things,
and a difficult, struggling life.
Like Snow White, she wears this
Tattered and Torn
And ugly and mismatched
outfit that said,
“HEY! I’m the biggest dork in the world!”
because she can’t afford nicer clothes. But they are warm and comfortable,
just perfect.
Just like Snow White, she is kind and sweet
She is full of respect and care for others
And never wished bad luck upon those
Who are more fortunate than her.
Maybe a little difference between them was that
Snow White was a princess; she’s just a peasant
Born to a family of nine.
Snow White knew manners, but she does not.
How could she? She is just a humble, simple woman from the poor villages
Homes under leafy roofs in Southern Myanmar.
She tries to learn, oh yes she does,
And I even taught her not to dig
her nose when I spoke to her,
or raise her voice but rather
be just gentle and soft, like the breeze blowing over
the grass in a sunlit meadow, soft and sweet, soft and sweet.
One night, when I was just casually talking to her
It led to me and my little brother
We went to take a look
At how she lived, in a three storey block
Just across from mine
But what a surprise, I couldn’t believe what I saw!
My legs were curled in, hands over my knees I sit
On the bed with its hard wood, just a thin mat
Simply lying over it.
When you sleep, wouldn’t you knock against it?
How painful and uncomfortable it must be, sleeping on
A board and nothing more.
I wonder if she ever had a decent sleep,
A blanket to curl in when the rain beats down,
A form of warmth and comfort to shield from the striking hand
Of life that torments us every second?
She also had some friends
But small ones, they were, and grey and small
With whiskers on the faces and cheekily as they were,
They hide among the trash her roommate dumped at the door,
Just like on the ceiling, webs fluttering when a breeze rolls in,
Because tiny spiders have made it their home.
Squeaks from those hidden corners,
Mysterious movements we can’t see
I ask her if she’s okay with all these pests, but she just shrugs and says,
“Meh. I don’t mind them.”
I wouldn’t be able to sleep.
The room is small,
So low and narrow,
Barely with space to breathe.
Or move about, or change!
Just stuck in the sullen room,
No space, no space, no space.
It’s just a place where you sleep (uncomfortably, with no sheets)
And suffer through the night when the wind bites you with their icy teeth.
I ask her, “What’s your name?”
She tells me it’s May Thu and I nod.
May Thu doesn’t have much.
All her possessions could easily slide into
The smallest of all the backpacks
And yet you’d have space to squeeze me in, too.
Toothbrushes, soap. A broken mirror and a hairbrush.
Some clothes and that’s all she has.
And yet, she’s happy and I realise
There’s no end to people’s greed. It’s something you have to
Put ******* in to widen it, so that you can dump a whole lot of
Material desires, and maybe two elephants,
Just so you could satisfy its perennial hunger.
It’d be hungry by the next hour.
When May Thu starts telling me stories about her brothers
And sisters
And goes through each of their names,
Her eyes glisten and a tinge of red, just slightly washes over
Her white eyeballs and her nose twitches,
With the smallest sign of reminiscence.
Her parents are pretty old, and they’ve got nine children to support.
But they’ve got older kids who can take care of themselves, but
With a gaping hole in their wallets, who’d mend it and fill it with money?
Only the kids, but it’s hard, May Thu says, and I can feel her throat tense,
she feels that lump you get when you want to cry,
but your throat hurts and it’s simply too dry.
May Thu wishes and yearns of a day
Just once, if she could, just once
Be rich for once and know the feeling-
being free of all duties.
May Thu is sad, a storm cloud has settled onto
Her troubled mind.
An idea swims up to me and whispers as May Thu says,
“I like checkered shirts.”
The idea winks and whispers that,
Maybe it’s time I give a little gift.
I grab my green flannel shirt, so big and so warm
Fashionable and comfy. Just right.
“There you go!” I tell May Thu
She looks at me with grateful eyes,
And seems to sing inside her mind,
May you be well, happy and at ease.
Thank you for making me life a little more complete!
When it’s time to leave,
I can’t bear to go. But the last I saw of May Thu was a happy smile
And I can feel it in my heart, the warm and the sweet.
I’m ever so grateful of whatever I have, and don’t spend my money
On nonsense I don’t need.
I’ve learnt that I didn’t need anything anymore.
I already have them, in front of my eyes, and they were all free!
All these things I’ve learnt, are from someone special.
You taught me that I didn’t need a swimming pool
when I have the River  Right  In  Front  Of  Me.

My body melts into wax
Wax filling a coffin strangely shaped like me
A candle starts to burn at the tip
and yet again, I start to melt like a wax.

Missiles
launched
At me
I crouch but

I still get hit.

I blow you out of my way,
From those crevices in my messy mind,
but you are still easily found,
Like a light in the midst of the dark.
Despite the cluttered mess, you are still
Clearly there. An easy open path to take
Just to find you again in this space.
So if I see a picture of you again,
please don't mind if I like you more than just a friend?

I'm laying on my bed
A Nokia in my hands
it's dark and all is quiet
but sleep hasn't come to me yet.

I'm sleepy but my eyelids won't close
I want to fall asleep in the cold
warmth of blanket and soft pillow
still, I stare into this bright screen
hoping sleep will come to me, somehow.

Evening light is gentle, slow
Caressing leaves, metal roofs, soil
Plants, flowers, pavements and gates
Clouds are the mothers - they shield us
Lest the sun shines too much.

Take a breath and look around;
The sweet and tranquil garden will take it away.
All colour blend in synchronised harmony;
Blues and browns, pinks and whites
Crossing into and over each other like
oil paints,
Warm, welcoming, beautiful.

It is soothing - the sound of nothing
That disrupts; razes; hates
Disturbs; curbs quiet insight;
One's imagination is the lone
source of maximum sound
That vibrates through the garden.

My grandfather, my grandmother's brother,
Smiles as though the sun shines through his teeth
Dresses in a pale blue shirt
Black shorts
Both well-worn
Ready to play
some basketball.

Oh, the joy, the fun
The refreshment arising from this game in a courtyard
In grandfather's garden
Among young trees, leaves and other green growth.
There stands a home by hand made
Basketball stand,
A concrete base with metal support hands
Floppy strings of hoop
To shoot the ball into.

The garden has been bathed, it is fresh
It is refreshed.
Grandfather demonstrates, I listen and follow,
To throw the ball into the hoop
With precision and care; throw some force
Into the air.
The ball dances around the circle
then drops to the concrete floor.

We take turns
As I throw and grandfather returns
9/10 of the time my aim's bad
but the ball grandfather throws, I actually catch!
(Or it will tumble on wet soil)

Exciting, the thumping
of rubber ball against ground;
Keen eyes and agile hands and feet
To catch the stray ball;
With swift movements the ball flies!
From sideways, afar and near,
Into the hoop successfully, finally.

Back into the house we go,
As the sun leaves for home.
The garden prepares for night;
So do grandfather and I;
Grandfather washes up; I talk to
Grandmother in the garden;
waiting for night, to
fall
fall
fall,
into infinite darkness -
poignant memories

You are divine, so absolutely perfect,
On those rosy lips I'd like to place my kiss,
those warm arms of embrace I'd like to be held in,
and whose eyes that twinkle like the charm of the night I want to look upon.
You are my greatest wish.