Liquor bottles and rapt promises
All sometimes mean the same thing for me
At first glance, they seem a little bit too much
To be handled by a mere, innocent minor like me

They say I'm too young to take or drink them
They say only adults can get a taste of them
But of course, I let my curiosity get the best of me
And here I am, sneaking some from the shelf.

Bitter. I unconsciously rejected it
For it was too bitter for me to handle
Manifesto too new, flavour too foul
Sensation incomprehensible, what's yet to come?

I finished half. Half of the bottle.
Internalized half of the emotions thrown
Embedded in between those highfalutin speeches
And I'm only waiting for what's next.

Warmth. It's warm, it's creeping in
Am I letting myself be thawed by their voice?
Or maybe it's just the liquid speaking
As it glides down from my mouth to my throat?

Euphoria. I feel nice. For the first time.
Taking more gulps doesn't feel a bit wrong.
Being succumbed to their words doesn't feel wrong.
It only feels all the more alright.

Tepid. Loaded. Giddy. Fine.
All these are happening all at once
I've been searching for this feeling all my life
WHY HAVE I NOT KNOWN BEFOREHAND!?

I only bought a bottle to try
Only sought a promise to swallow
Is one not enough for my troubled soul?
Is this how much I craved to feel fine?

No matter how many bottles we gulp
No matter how wholeheartedly we trust
When the ethereal high runs out in a bittersweet haze
It's time to clean them all up.

For the empty liquor bottles and empty rapt promises
Will only leave you reeking with its pungent smell
Along with trailing tears on your cheeks
And another throbbing head the next day.

The curve of your spine is etched

into the fabric of my memory

the arteries of my heart

the wrinkles of my fingerprints

and the words that catch in my throat

when I try to say

“I love you”

The Internet arrived; they are confused
"Do not trust everything you read online!"
They warn us sternly, and even threatened
To take away and ban us from the computers
.
The technology advances, oh so, so very fast
Gone is the concept, of a single shared home PC
The smartphones, the laptops, the tablets etc.
Took the world by storm, and we are all amazed.
.
And then... Remember what those boomers told us?
About being skeptical and fearful of online information?
Guess what those hypocritical ******* are doing now!?
Fake news fake news fake news fake news fake news!
FAKE! NEWS!!!
.
You nonetheless heed their advice, and learnt fact-checking
Yet, gods forbid you try to "show off" with your evidence!
"Aiyah, I only forward what was shared to me. I'm just caring"
"It seems harmless, so what's the problem??"
My absolute favourite must be...
"Don't talk back to me! Don't you disrespect me! Be silent!
Don't try to show off how smart you are!
I ate more salt than you have eaten rice!
If you don't believe this, just shut up!"
.
Gods bless Asian parents
.
What to do... What to do...
#napowrimo #napowrimo2020 #fakenews #asianparents #poets #writers #poems #poetrycommunity #NationalPoetryMonth #false #asianpoets #poetry #factchecking #iamboey

Where am I?

For those who ask:
I am in the home I grew up in
Between the intersection and the train tracks
(Did you know, when I was little and up too late
I heard the whistle of the train
And I thought it was the trumpeting of angels
Come to take me in the night.)

And where am I, Lord?
Where will this be
In history’s books?
Just down the street from a post office
Built during the civil war for shipping shoes
Still open—an essential service
In a time of worry, as it was in the time of war
(There have been sixteen cases in my town
And it has not yet touched me.)

And oh, where am I, my love?
I am with my family
Keeping my hands busy
So my mind stays still
I am in bed, or on the floor,
Or in the living room, or on the porch,
Or putting grooves in the driveway
As I stop to smell the flowers
that have bloomed the same this year
as they have on every other
except this year I have someone to compare them to and
not a blossom measures up to you, my love.

Where am I?
Home
Safe—as safe as one can be
In a familiar place
All of these are true
(But the first answer that comes to my mind
Is always “still miles away from you”)

It's two o'clock - Post Meridian
Time to raise a glass
Of wine or flask of gin
To the Good 'Ol Gov
And Marvelous Dr. Acton

Take action, Homebound Heroes
By extensive handwashing
And endless binge-watching,
Baby Yoda and the Tiger King

One day eventually
There will be
Cause to celebrate,
Gather outside
And roam

But until then,
For Grandma's sake, people
STAY THE **** HOME!!

I don’t know how
To make my mistakes
Into something beautiful.
I only see them
As ugly scars
That mark my skin,
Like a roadmap
Of all my failures.
I’m all or nothing
And it’s dangerous.
If something’s wrong
I want to change it all
Not just the one thing.
I want to light a match
Burn the world to the ground
And start again.
A new canvas,
With freshly poured paint.
I destroy works of art
With a simple press of a key
Then I lose all hope
And abandon the idea all together.
Leaving it to shrivel
And die.
This is what I’m good at.

We are all tiny pebbles
dropped into a river
making ripples that
will eventually reach
the ocean