i hate you
for not knowing
how i feel

i hate you
for seeing
you everyday

i hate you
for feeling'
this way

i hate you
for believing
that you feel
the same

i give and give
while you take with no end

i would not for an hour nor a minute
but for a second

would appreciate a thank you
for me to know my self worth

new possibilities
with old dreams

a brand new start
on a journeys end

a new life
that has lived

we are blessed
to see other opportunities

I do not  mind struggling
to get a bite each day

Nor the torture of getting
up on a beautiful day just
to spent it laboring

what I do really hate though..
is another human hating on another.
it never makes sense...

I can not get over
your shy smile

way you look over
knowingly

I am head over
heels

falling for you

I will never grow weary, with you it has been a adventure
night  and day

we both understand that being in love
is a constant battle
we argued, insulted each other and break our own hearts
it is the burden of being born in the world we do not choose

I accepted your scars like you did mine
and it is enough for us to watch our children
grow

if I hold your hand and it is old and grey,
then I am satisfied we have come this far

locked so tight
keys thrown away

keeps you awake
afraid to talk in your sleep

bearing my whole soul
to every person met
causes my soul to slowly fades

there nothing exciting and mysterious
left to offer but lies

your eyes are sending messages my heart cannot decode

if by chance my skin feels yours time may stood still

as i may want it to last forever

there is darkness and numbness
voids of nothingness and meaningless
purposes and hopes

if you are nothing but invisible

if dreams are real
i will be able to built
a fortress for you, my children.

a place where freedom is vast
where our thoughts can roam
freely into colors

a  haven to make our own choices.

My vessel is old
yet my souls yearns
for childhood comforts
tangled in the past

I am tired and a step
further is just painful
memories a more fonder
then the future ahead

when the head is holding the pen,
it is one road to all destination.

when the heart steps in, it is
many roads to one destination.

dear MUM,

it takes me being a MOM to truly understand
and I love you

kan gura kuum bere pule raka
sa shea via pa soloso pia???
hita va lengu tinoni hua
tintogha san hua Gngana

raka chinoko
kani shea taku raka
pa soloso pia
chinoko kani noro

crossroads, tunnels, mazes
I found, myself lost
in myself...

a little girl looking out
in a woman's eye

trying so hard but
too weak for this world..

I am lost, lost inside
myself

her face stings
not for the slapping
mostly for the hurt
in her  heart

tears are welling up
and she is controlling
herself not to cry
because the kids are
watching

he looked confident
just because he had muscles
yet he's just another coward
soo afraid, afraid of words
that defines him

celebrating my youngest son's birthday
with no money but  with my thoughts
another birthday will come and things
may change

i am a child during family gatherings, i am the cup of tea. whispers are spoken but unheard only by me. nobody really really liked me cause i am too light skinned to belong. i grew up being a people pleaser, trying so hard to prove to the world that my birth meant something. that i matter, solving everyones problem but mine. in the end nobody cares, i have been manupilated, used and taken for granted. i just want to belong to anything and realized that an outkast will always be an outkast

there is a familiarity I feel towards that old house.
With broken windows, cracked walls, dusty hallways and
loose boards.I sense it sighing when the wind blows, almost like
it will crumble.

Seeing the old house makes me feel this tag in my heart. so strong that my heart sunk and a deep ache rushes all over. a tear would drop at first and a next. And I always end up crying.

there is familiarity I feel towards that old house by road. and I  must take the short cut today.

table has definitely changed
i become more of you which i hated
no quilt , no mercy
living  just for lust AND money

Hapi Isles was what my country once called before the civil unrest.
Referred to as the most friendliest people in the south pacific.

we so are so friendly in fact that we told our western allies, never mind cleaning up your World II mess. Just leave the bombs, guns, machines and junks as a way of thank you for saving our lives. Right?

like our normal phrase "Set, Set,  Tagio Tumas"(all Good and Thank very Much)

80 year later here you are at my  shore remembering your loved ones who were lost 80 years ago. and i will continue to bury my people as times goes.

as we are living on a ticking Bomb, an uncertainty of when the Bombs will explode.

I am introducing myself
I am a Solomon Islander(Pacific Islands region)
and yes your right never
heard of it.
we are used to people not
knowing where our country is,
making it more isolated
English is my third language,
yap, I write fluent then speaking
it.
my wish is to visit Switzerland just to
see chocolates and chocolates..
I am sorry hello poetry for not contributing, I wish I could
but in my country its hard getting a visa card.

while asleep I kissed you goodnight
then saw your little hands and hold it
within my own. it was so small my hand
covered all.

I then know, this hands will grow and so are the giggles and crying. Mummy this and mummy that.
so i lay a while beside you to remember you
as you are now

Kind of funny
I never really
Really thought anything of you
But you grow on me
Your smell, look and touch lingers wherever I go

if you are eighteen
it will wiser to wait
then fall in love

love will drag you
till you become bitter
a forgotten fruit
that has crumbled
and had to fall

live your life first
so regrets wont be
regrets

its getting dark
you  can feel the soft
evening wind bracing your
face
street lights turning on
and
your pace quickens
because you know
you are almost home

the constant struggle of
seeking warmth for  your cold
and empty heart just for a second
hoping for someone to hear your wonderful ideas
just for a second
waiting for the hand  to wipe the tears
just for a second
And it all hurts , struggling to be noticed

if I speak I always fail
to truly express what
I actually think

I wish you could read my
mind or there exists a place
to establish a link

sometimes I'm frustrated
because what I say did not
hit the brink

so I apology in writing
because its hard to speak

if you are here, you will not believe it
but the world is slowly crumbling
and pretty soon chaos and disaster
will explode everywhere
you probably were here during the SARS
period, now there is another more cruel and
hungry.

     now I am afraid to read the papers, watch TV and hearing the news on the radio like I used to enjoy with you because all you hear and see now is death, sorrow, sickness and pain

     Dad even though I miss you when your gone, I am glad you do not live in this era. I just wish you would know though, I am scared not for me but for my children.

love, your Daughter

glancing into nothingness
my mind wandering off somewhere
I sometimes see my little self
playing and laughing joyously

anger has aged me
I need a new skin
so I am peeling off
these dry skins
caused by pain and
hate

"mucha bela chacha
kare uhlo uhlo
moko mae meka
vaka tepe mae suragha ni hoi"

"sleep my child
do not cry
or else the
white man ship
will come and take you"

hush...

can you hear the laughter's
can hear the waves greeting the shorelines
can hear children playing
can you hear the birds chirping
can you hear the wind whistling
can you hear me calling

hush and let go .....

ever wondered upon thy neighbors
pains, struggles  and dreams

their constant troubles and insight about
life

ever wondered before given your opinions
which are short sighted and self bias

or are we comfortable walking in shoes
that are not rightly fit

I believe in people
weak and strong
lost and found
broken and mend

I believe in seasons
cold and hot
tough and cool
bitter and sweet

I believe there is
a Maker
who knows that I believe
bad, sad or pandemic times
do not last forever

hello pain
its me again

I know you tired
now they taken
you legs
you looked tired
as you lay facing
the window
I know you just want
rest and to finally
hold grandma's hands
and tell her you have
lived to see four generations
and misses her
I know grandpa, I know

waking up with the same
monotonous life
walking to work on the
same pathway

hearing the same tippy tap rhythm
of the keyboards over and over
the whirring and whooshing of the
printer which never stops

And talking civil all day while hoping for when
will the building will be on fire

closing my eyes
means seeing you
waking up means
you are not mine

life intended that I
cannot have you

the spirit world is
beckoning and there
will I go knowing
you are waiting

I am shallow and cruel
the burden of being alive

I am a saint and an angel
the gift of being alive

I hate and ****
the downside for being alive

I love and give
the reasons for being alive

I am alive because I am alive

there is a tree outside the window
where I work
when I looked out I see it  everyday
I often wonder what its past life
had been like the past years

if I speak to it will it tell me secrets
it heard along the years
will it tell me stories about life
when I do not even exist
will it tell me that once lovers
meet under its shades

I often wonder a lot because
now when you see the tree
it is bare as bare can be
it  no longer have beautiful leaves
as all its branches are dead

but yet you will see it standing
tall and proud above all
other young trees around it

one day I know if I look out
I will not see this tree but I hope
this tree knows that I love seeing it
everyday

I dreamt of you last night
my forbidden fruit

it was so perfect that
I woke up smiling