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"if people were flowers i'd pick you"                                                             ­                                       
                         ­                  no, i wouldn't pick you
because if you were a flower            
you would be too fragile and beautiful
                              for me to pluck you from the ground
take you out of the soil that you're living in              
                                                ­because flowers, after a couple of days
                                                   wilt and slowly die
                                                             ­             while their colours fade

                            instead i would grasp the hardy weeds around you
making it a safer place for you to grow          
give water to you every day                                                        
send love to you every day                                                        

    ­                                       then if i was feeling really selfish
i would dig you up                
roots, dirt and all      
not leaving any of you behind              
and place you gently in a ***
before placing you on my window sill

letting you grow                                                             ­                                       
giving you water                                                            ­                                          
and loving you                                                              ­                                          
no, i wouldn't pick you

...
Another night without you,
morning come and you're gone.
Where are you,
in a world filled with hatred and war.
I hope you're somewhere safe,
somewhere much more inviting.

Children with their fathers,
hand in hand,
laughing until they can laugh no more.
And I sit alone,
quietly watching them with the fear
that I will never see my daddy again.

I've cried all my tears,
I haven't laughed for the whole year.
There's not a day I don't think about you,
or a day I don't miss you.

Maybe, someday,
we will meet again.
In an afterlife
with so much more joy than this one.

But I hope you'll recognize the broken girl I've become,
with scarred wrists and teared eyes.
I'm not the happy child I was when you left,
I'm something much darker.

It's not a happy Father's Day for the fatherless.
-k.k.
Lying beside one another in bed,
Filling up voids in our half-empty heads,
After the monster in our fragile hearts had said,
“You will thrive,
While the king lays down dead.”

Throwing stones into a polluted lake,
One of us smiles, while the other one fakes,
After we’ve beaten ourselves up for our petty mistakes,
Our tears are numb,
While our heads ache.

Falling asleep in one another’s arms,
I will lie restless, awake and alarmed,
But I will be shaking and breathing unharmed,
And you will be safe here,
Sleeping and charmed.

Talking about roses and their withering death,
I’ve realized how much my words lack in depth.
I get lost in your words and my idle regrets,
And you go on speaking,
Wasting your breath.

~Cassius Lee.
Moonlight, sheathing the earth,
lost its heart to a shining smart satellite,
"moving speck of light, inching forwards infinity,
alas! our love lasts, not even a cosmic minute"
Three-legged spider on a ***** tile
Eyeball rolls, clean in hand
Massive metal door opens, up top a hill
Graveyard of ever-ringing cells.

What's real creepy to you?

Enclose the city, lock us out ..for good
Condemned as doomed, living dead
Big guns survive in metallic domes
See the crass ******* shoot us down!

Wanna talk about what's creepy, huh?

Plunderers now lay down new laws
Can't fight the sick, red sway
Random acts of violence bay
Armoured eyes see all from lofty towers.

Creepy autocrats hide the truth, right?

No soaring when blood runs rivers
Tripping over rotting corpses
Decaying stench of hope dying
Help will come, we must believe!

Do you believe lies to your face?

Infrastructure's down, no services
Power's out, no more flushing
Car carcasses aflame on every corner, yet
How come big brother's eyes still move?

Are the gullible ones really stupid and feeble?

Sun shines, but nothing grows
Rain seeps red away into sewers
Crops of twisted metal, hoards of guns
Skeletal trees adorn our landscape.

Why hold askance your glance skyward?

The gates will open to let us in
Surely, they witness our hardship!
There must exist a life beyond this strife
Uproar, bombard, gas, artillery....then no more....

Can you ever cease to have temerity?

In face of adversity, calamity and injustice
We should NEVER cease to be exasperated!
Hope must prevail; faith must live;
Thoughts expressed; love and respect must survive.

Can you afford your spirit just to let go....?

Think about it. Creepy autocrats eternally rank ...

Chronically..........Insidious
Repressively........Deleterious
Egotistically.........Inadequate
Eruptively............Odious
Pretentiously.......Tedious
Yucky...................****!


S T, 31 May 2013
Down with those who think they can control people; fed up with ...systems!
Written in Jan 2013.

Inspired (partly) by movie "Doomsday".



sub-entry:

'fool'

don'tcha go tryna control me, sucker
I'm-a kick yer *** fer you, fool!


(need I say more? lol)
how he loved his sweetheart queen
she always wore the silver bracelet
he gave when she turned sixteen
now their kids are growing; how time has flit



10 a.m.

Eyes opening, sun comes streaming through the windows. It's so late!

I rise, feel so groggy....what's this weighty load on me...?
I've been sleeping, yet feel profoundly *weary
.
Where is everyone?
"Muriel...?"
I get to the bathroom to wash and shave.

My wife appears at the door, "Honey, where have you been? Oh, we haven't seen you in so long... Welcome back! Come down for tea, dahling."
She pours a glittering smile and reaches up to touch my cheek with the back of her left hand, fingernails painted deep red...her nuptial rings still a dazzle after so many years...but she....
"Alright, dahling?"
"Y-yes, dear."

She had never called me darling...or even dahling....before...!
Huh?
And off she goes, to the kitchen.
Welcome back?? did she say?? And her eyes were shining so bright...
Wait a minute....just  hold on ....what....??
I shake my head, unable to toss some heavy feeling....a dense cloud in my head.



10:30 a.m.

Now I'm dressed and freshened up, I head down.

Feeling better, I see my warmhearted and humorous son at the pine dinette table.
I smile warmly as he turns to look up...I remember the promise that we'd go fishing this weekend.
"Hey, budd....."
I reach over to touch his hair, but he flinches away..!

"Who's this, Mom?" Kyle demands hotly.
My wife gives a bright smile which doesn't quite reach her eyes and says: "Now, Kyle....behave. It's Daddy.."
"Oh, he's just .....tired, ok."

She waltzes over and politely hands me a steaming mug.
What in the name of....???
Over the cloud of coffee, I watch them all.
Little Jenny, but my jolly toddler...now on her mother's hip...watches with wary eyes and reaches out to scratch me, her pacifier hanging from a blue ribbon, like a noose from her 'happy-smiles' bib.

"But Mom, he's been away so long...for years and..."
I hear him whispering sullen and lizard-like, to his mother....but he's hissed into silence.

What in the heck....?
"Now, children," Muriel says patiently, "go play out in the yard..."

Oh, I'm feeling so frazzled!



11:00 a.m.

I decide I've had enough.

My wife is at the sink, thickly busy rinsing cups and plates; she smiles sweetly, humming.
She never did like doing dishes....
Now there she stands, looking all coiffed and made-up, hopelessly incongruous...

I shake my head; thoughts roll and collide, like mysterious marbles across my mind-floor...
Kyle watches me hostile, from the garden...arms folded defiantly across his chest.
Jenny's on her tricycle, red as a fire-engine.....eyes blankly staring, bent on crisscrossing her scalene triangle trip.

I turn to ask: "Muriel, where's your bracelet, dear? You always have it on."
"Oh, dahling...don't you worry. It's upstairs on the dresser."

And yet.....I was there earlier whilst dressing, and I didn't see it!

Baffled, I step out to the kids.
I prune the bougainvillea and then rake some leaves. Hairs stand up on the back of my neck....
It feels as if I'm being watched...when I look up to see, they are all quickly resume their activities.
Muriel just keeps on that shiny smile for me.


11:30 a.m.

This is it.

As I rake, some leaves make way for a clearing in the yard.
Bending down to scoop some up, a shiny reflection catches my eye...there's the silver bracelet with that beautiful twist of blue as gemstones.
What was it doing here...?

Still pondering, I see my wife's head **** up from the kitchen window...lips curling back...oh, no smile this time...body looking too *****...eyes like saucers, way, way too interested.....

I look down again...move some more leaves.....a curled hand....But it looks like ......

I recognise my Muriel's hand, her clear and pushed-backed-cuticle fingernails....her arm..her face....but.....
she's here.....!!

What the.....??

I turn round slowly to look.....only..... too slowly.....







how I loved my sweetheart Muriel
who always wore her silver bracelet
with that beautiful
twist of blue




S T, 11 June 2013
Partly inspired by movie 'Haunting in Salem'...just some ****** film I couldn't finish....lol
Dozed off and wrote this thing, instead :)


sub-entry: none
I am naked.
Not of clothes-
But of clout.
I am a tangled mess-
Of imperfection and doubt.
I am naked.
Not of creativity-
But of a constant.
I have thoughts,
Of mystery and enchantment.
I am naked.
Not of promiscuity.
But of courage.
I have fears,
Of passion and image.
I am naked.
Not of faith.
But of reason.
I have questions,
Of love and religion.
I am naked.

And I may or may not have been joking about the cloths part.
They asked me,
When I was only a child,
About the castle.
I told them
How I love to watch
The smoke
That blended with
the gray English sky
Rise from the turrets;
To watch the lady there,
Wistful,
Ride her mare.
I told them
That the castle was very beautiful,
But I
Did not want to live there.

They asked again,
When the flowers were but blooming,
About the castle.
Again I said
How the garden was
So beautifully kept,
And that the roses were
Fairer than any others;
But that the daughter,
Whose hair shone like
A raven's back,
Was too forlorn.
I told them
That the garden was lovely,
But I
Did not want to live there.

They asked again,
At the end of my learning age,
But then my opinion mattered not.
They packed my bags,
And moved my prizes
To that castle
Whose cold stone walls were
Not nearly so beautiful from the inside;
Where the firelight shone
On saddened faces,
On broken souls,
And the door closed me in darkness.
I told them
That the castle was cold,
But still
They locked me there.
I was writing a short story about a girl forced into an arranged marriage at age eighteen to a man she knew and liked well enough, but didn't 'love' per se. She appreciated the women around her (notably her sisters) who found contentedness in their marriages, but didn't feel it was right for her. This poem came to me in class one day, when that raven haired girl picking the flowers in the castle garden just wouldn't leave me alone. And so The Castle was born.
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