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ChinHooi Ng Nov 24
So many doors
tightly closed
the need for more clothing and food
can't be kept out
it's a small hamlet
by the river
when a man stamps his foot
the whole village wobbles
a slap from a woman
and the whole village is flooded with tears
a cough in the dark
reveals bricks of secrets
two old stone mills
like an old couple who
have worn out their lives
wind leaks through four walls
a candle light dim and faint
not a synonym for romance and cozy
but luxury
when they can't afford kerosene
they eat, wash, get in the blankets
before the candlelight goes out
remainder of the light is only
for the maternal needlework
a curve creek
clear and lucid
when catching fish and mud-skippers
they become as happy as the water
joyful shrieks waft
in the smoke from the cooking stove
these scenes which can only be
returned to if time regressed are
very much alive in memory
they just didn't grow with me
many years later the warren
became a rustic retreat
days of the dirt and soil
became a wandering cloud
the stubborn local sounds
suddenly emerge from baseless thoughts
the mushed corn
the yam gruel
carrots and cabbage
feeding the dream
the mountains, the water, the people
the kindly kampung
the birthmark
of that era.
it seems
the blue lights
drift ghostly
past the windows
more often
these days
each occasion
bringing with it
a momentary
fleeting interest
in where
the drama is
currently residing
at who's pillow
might be
through the night
at who's door
fear and anxiety
are being permitted
to step inside
at who's house
has become
a closed film set
waiting to be
stripped of content
until only
walls doors windows
and memories
as commercials end
attention returns
once more
to a stronger
more constant
source of
blue light
and all present
are thankful that
at least
the banshees
that wailing of sirens
has been silenced
in time
Being human
Can take you further
Than most people
What scares me through this dark forest?

It is not the dark,
Nor the wet socks,
Nor the treacherous rocks in the way
Nor the rustling of grass unpaved
Nor the occasional shriek of an owl
Nor the cold, nor the starvation
Nor the bats and insects and crawling creatures
Nor the unknown beyond horrid imagination
Nor the screams of sorrow's victims
Nor the silence, or the sheer loneliness

The only fear is existing
Painfully drifting
Having nowhere to go
No journey to bleed for,
Having to watch the forest burn
As hollers of delight emerge from monstrous look-alikes,
Siblings turned beasts of false pretenses and heavy machinery

And the more it burns, the more colorful it gets,
The more join in, the louder it grows, they're having a blast!
Till the smoke touches every molecule in the air,
Till we all suffocate in a carbon monoxide high
Forever frozen in a grin of painful ecstasy,
And the forest turns to ashes, awaiting a kinder generation,
A kinder species, perhaps.
october 17, 2022
3:21 p.m.
Humanity is in us all,
We care but we sometimes fall,
We must be there for others and stand tall,
Can we be the ones that set up that stall,
Live and breathe humanity,
For we can teach the young,
The song we know can bring happiness when sung,
Believing we can sustain,
Remembering we can refrain,
Humanity's call is amongst us all,
Lets us see it through and repeat the call.
I have never seen the God
But the people, I see

They are
Genre: Vibe Talks
Xallan Jul 30
at the end of the day, all we have
is the night and
the solemn promise of a tomorrow
pledged in the wisps
of smoke
of a candle.

I hope to never see another wind-tumbled gravestone on a sea of astroturf.
I hope to never hear another child beg for their life from the impartial visor of a computer screen.
I hope to never feel the secondhand shame of a mind lived without thinking.

A second generation of human rolls in its infancy,
eyes of service,
blood of lightning,
skin of steel.

You have lived to see man-made horrors.
I will live to see horror-made men.
The children are our future, they say, because the future they've built is terrifying
Ave Maria Jun 16
To speak scientific truth and the ways of nature is now to hate one another, so it seems
Why is this? How possibly could spreading the good seed of knowledge be the equivalent to inciting violence or a hate crime? Humans are far too fragile, as they have been since the beginning of time. All these unnecessary wars, and for what reason? They begin by spreading facts or opinions that evidently cannot be handled. There is nothing more self destructive than humanity. The censoring has begun, and I reckon much worse is to soon unfold. Why must they defend so dearly, what does not exist? We are asked not to label, yet these people label themselves and us within the span of a second for not believing in fantasies. We stand subject to ridiculous trends, power trips, and the dangerous fragility of the human mind. Will there ever be an end?
Jack Jun 15
Same wind, but in a different solitude
The petals of flame still withers
the previous battle wound still burn,
as soul of ****** seeks divine conviction,
Remain unforgiven,
Judgement for the judge,
May the last words remain to the end as a remedy for lost symphonies.
calm ocean with raging wave remain hidden,
remind me the beauty of sunset,
as I'm still alive and breathe,
for the past drift to the faraway island,
show me humanity can be save,
without mask and hidden daggers,
maybe one day,
we able to enjoy morning breeze,
without worry what's waiting in the mist.
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