trouble-d

i feel troubled. and i usually can't pin-point the cause. perhaps i am tired and nerved by my inherent need to be compulsively clean in spite of the time which led to my quarter-of-an-hour long shower. i could be troubled by other less important things like my deadlines encircling 10 page reports or my nagging conscience at my decision to skip class tomorrow morning. anyhow, i am troubled.

and when i am troubled, i shut the world out; kind of like punishing trouble himself, locking him in so he won't go infecting others by making a scapegoat out of busy and therefore less attentive boyfriends or concerned therefore naggy mothers. trouble is sneaky like that.

but somehow it does work on him, this lock-in. disseminates him, vaporises him and perhaps, then absorbs him. and when accumulated to a fairly sizeable volume, i could become trouble himself, humanised.

i dream of shanghai

she's my muse. her tender fair
skin wrapped under her cheong sam,
tight. swaying her hips like
they were playing the song.

she's my muse. her contoured, round
form draped under her night wear,
loose. swaying her hips like
they were yelling my wrong.

she's my muse. her gentle, sweet
kiss on my cheeks like moonlight,
warm. bouncing around like
they were tracing my soul.

she's my muse. her intense, strong
tug on my waist like deep roots,
firm. holding me still like
they were keeping me home.

shame

he entered like a stranger
no sense that he knew her
and crept around
till he was found,
she held him close to her bosom.

he knew he'd find
her ties won't bind;
those chains were loose
so he could choose
to shame her with him inside her.

he shamed her with him inside her.

maternal strength

we climbed till we were 70 storeys above sea level. the ocean below, still as concrete, like the sky upturned beneath. the metal barrier stood thin and unsure, served only to draw a line between us and the infinite vacuum that would not extend its assistance should the barrier fail to hold us. peering down till the stretch in our necks bridged the blood-flow to our heads, she said, i am going for a swim. my objections drowned in the silence of space while she crossed the barrier-line, suspended from her arms till she was an arch, and released.

i watched as her form was first head, body and legs. and like a series of still pictures, she shrank in size and blurred in detail. until she was merely the colour of her dress, white. yet she was still shrinking and was the only fragmented movement in the oblivious vacuum.

finally she punched a tiny dent in the ocean, her body spread out within it. her white camouflaged into the ocean's white, separated from the jet black her hair left as the only evidence that she was there. stuck, not floating. almost deathly unmoving.

but like my palm, she flipped. grinned and waved a fidgeting speck of life.

osmose

it was cold and they were two, motionless more than stranded on an island.at arms length, they were alone. it didn't matter that they were friends, or strangers in the crowd, for their eyes would not meet nor their soul nod in silent understanding. and the rain would crash like waves on rocks, on the foundation beneath their feet. and soak and suck their way through leather, skin and bones, drenching and drying till their toes fold into flaccid creases.and it would be that water could penetrate their skin with far greater ease than the words spoken between them, bouncing off like rubber on glass, shot into infinite space,plunging to the ground. never heard. never understood.if only my words would fall like rain, she thought, silently.

birthdays,birthnames,names

happy belated birthday babe! u are most special... ok, i know this wasnt taken on your birthday but we will take a proper birthday pic when i meet you for dinner k?!

speaking of birthdays, i was reminded of my birth name over a name brainstorming session with huiwen this afternoon. she has name troubles especially when she meets kan-tang (potato), non-bilingual singaporeans who have so much difficulty pronouncing hway-when. so she has to christen herself with an easy to pronounce english name that isnt too girly cuz that's not her. so...the most creative me came up with HUIWORM! surely that's alot easier, considering there's a mental picture they can relate to.

anyhooves, this song is dedicated to the one-year-old me, for being michelle for a year.

Michelle, ma belle
These are words that go together well
My Michelle

Michelle, ma belle
Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble
très bien ensemble

I love you, I love you, I love you
that's all I want to say
Until I find a way
I will say the only words I know that you'll understand

- Michelle, The Beatles

observations of a religious artist

The morning booms with gospel songs
or a lady shouting ‘Amen!’.
He sits at the dining table, softly chanting
verses that may make perfect sense

in a different language, another life
of which he may enjoy,
his religion, yes, his God-sent talent;
the love, peace and joy.

His dark blue bible, good as new
in English and Mandarin,
has, slipped between thin-crisp pages,
painting print-outs by Klimt.

It seems
as he hangs his head in silent obedience
as he lifts his hands in praise,
the words and thoughts are neck deep
“I will love You all my days”.