On small boats
Beneath high swells

Seeking cash from fish.

Smashing through
Wild white horses,
Spray splashing
The face.

Headway or sinking,
Journey in stasis

Undertow

Overtone.

Feet on terra firma
Shaking from
Quake

And unseen particles
Shooting throughout.

Body tone
Muscle song

And the dissolution
Of being.

Where do you live?
you mean where I reside?

On this beautiful forsaken earth
I have seen many sins in fellow citizen's inside
I have my pride
but I wanna confess
and it is 150% a yes
that in my inside's hearth
I have many more sins,
much more than your rational would believe
although I am an evangelist
not certain a bliss
but that was my beloved's Mum wish
I dared not to refuse her
since I am an obedient girl
of course at school a rebel
never for my dearest Mum
after having graduated
exactly three years after date.

I must confess
that I possess much more inner spirit now
more patience than before
more love and care than I ever owe

Ahok was blamed for blasphemy
that Islamic group lied constantly
till they got him in prison

such saddest tidings
am still humming my love songs
even though pained in one WhatsApp ago
am looking for peace while conversing to
my genius bro before he would close his golden window.

my heart leap up with the strongest sense
his caring soul did never offend
i feel home in our parental house
nine days closest to his loving heart
i am truly blessed as his grateful part.

© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN

Jakarta-Home, West-Java Time 21.00 hrs PM.
AD the 3rd June 2017, Saturday

On to my Queendom, he comes
he thinks he could reign me
that was his greatest mistake

he thought he could read
I too thought that he could read
but I was mistaken

mine loved friend said he loves to read
I too thought that he loves to read
it seemed so, it looked so
but I was mistaken

after having walked amongst this poverty
I must conclude in tears and tragedy
this is the worst and most tragic comedy
I ever knew after my literal study
(contin.on Part 3)


© Sylvia Frances Chan
Copyright Protected

I am the embodiment of your life
the shoulders of your deep sadness
the wrapped arms of your burden
the warmth of your coldness
the breath of your sighs

the atmosphere
when you are near
to be living again
then

I'll sing my song for you
just for you with that refrain
in the midst of the night
will you not be so sad again

the rivers are overflowing
it's still monsoon-time, baby
where will we go with all these liquid
no scrupules, I'll fix it

I'll read you a poetry sublime
about the poet who writes about food
who never be hungry again
never have a grind
man unkind
to break or crush the notes

please do never forget
I am the bottom of your bed
the handle of your doors
the candle of your fires
I am the embodiment
of your desires....



© SYLVIA FRANCES CHAN
Copyright Protected

and a bell in its place
to some, no doubt,
a disgrace

it was to me, i must admit
but new light shines
in place of it

our front page is new,
brighter than ever
and now made by you

trending was all the rage
but (we all knew it) the algorithm
couldn't hold the stage

so now he'll do his part
to get your poem out in front
but that's just the start

next it's up to the community,
a repost, a heart or a plucky thumb
dare I say, it's up to you and me

into magic like
when I was a kid
her song sings
calling me forward
soft choruses
sweet pipers
tangerine suns
mystic glows
spriteful harmonies
strings  and bows
a party there
between
two eyes two arms
two souls
magnificence