Tuesday, September 01, 2015


I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
Charred wood of faces drift away then return,
Memories of smoke unfurl on a twig...

I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
The arid air chokes out both the giver and the given,
Can't think clearly without a--

I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
Light-headed, faint-hearted, what just happened?
Why can't I brea---

I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
Grasping at unspoken ash from a past left dry, forgotten,
The dust is everywhere.

I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
There is no end.

I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
Charcoal stings spear eyes too dusted to turn,
Then a tear...

I'm swimming in the smoke of bridges I have burned,
So don't apologise,
I'm losing what I don't deserve.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

True mediocrity

Is achieving balance mediocre? Should balance be something to be achieved or is balance the final pit-stop for those who simply cannot continue to strive? Is excellence only found in the journey of those who speed on as crazed adrenaline junkies or can achievements be realised in the quiet, still moments of contentment?

Even now, success is an accident; neither by sheer force of will nor by talent nor imagination and it seems that where there is a will, there is but disappointment and faded dreams and falling short of expectations, even if they be self-inflicted.

In fleeing mediocrity, has something far more precious been left behind? In seeking contentment, has the one thing that can provide peace been overlooked? In pursuing grandeur, have eternal riches been abandoned, covered in dust?

Have I set my gaze too rigidly that I have forgotten that when I lose my first love, nothing else matters, even if I strive to shape perfection through flawed lenses?

Monday, February 23, 2015


The silent lie exposed, 
Her cloak is in tatters,
Her crowning glory, shorn,
Her open arms broken,
Her familiar embrace, cold,
Her joy humiliated,
Her power stripped away,
Her majesty diminished,
Her wonder, now decay.

Monday, January 26, 2015

Are we lost?

It is quite unbelievable how fast Time flies. 
The way she glides across the ripples of life,
Offering a glimpse that speaks into eternity.
The way she hurries not yet waits not. 

Life seems cumbersome in light of Time.
Slow, deliberate, wishful, thankful,
Harbouring, relieving, 
Hopeful, doleful.

Yet they are two of the same;
Creatures untamed.
Both substance and might;
Both phantom and flight.

Before we realise
Both will be gone
Before we surmise,
Both be reborn.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Putting the pieces together

Accept that no one person holds all the pieces. 
Enjoy looking for missing links.
Invest in the journey.
Open up to other possibilities. 
Understand that the picture will be complete eventually.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Journey vs Destination

If the journey is all that mattered, I would be queen but as life would have it, merit is not what it seems and winning is only objective to those who are not vested in the journey.

Tuesday, October 21, 2014

Going for gold

Why do anything at all;
If you don't go all out
And all the way.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014

Class act

Thinking out loud

Class; the elite
Class for the weak
Class on the board
Class from the road.

Class in the hat
Class on the mat
Class in the Bar
Class in the bar.

Class which is earned
Class which is learnt
Class that is fed
Class that is dead.

Class is the wine
Class is refined
Class is the beer
Class is the cheer.

Class in the word
Class in the hurt
Class when in reach
Class when we teach.

Class in the fun
Class in the mum
Class when it pains
Class in disdain.

Class is the worth
Class is the mirth
Class is the heart
Til we depart.

Saturday, August 09, 2014

Monday, July 14, 2014


Only you know the price of choice  
Listening to and heeding your voice.

Only you can tell the hurt that's carved
Into flesh too weak and starved.

Only you foresaw the faint glimmer
As clouds were lined softly silver.

Only you were in the fray
When emotions choked on every prayer.

Only you are worth the cost
Of being told my mind is lost.

Only you can make me move
You are all I'll ever choose.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Perspective counts

Size does matter and it matters where you look

Monday, July 07, 2014

Grass guzzler

Will happily eat longkang veggies for the rest of my life if only I get to spend time with a stocky grass guzzler all day, every day, forever and ever and ever and ever..... that's saying a lot since I don't have a penchant for kangkung.

Sarawak is so big and yet no 4-legged knight with soft muzzle and fiery spirit to be found.

 Sunrise on Mount Prabu

 Swimming in Tanjung Aan

This is my happy face.

Friday, April 25, 2014









Thursday, April 10, 2014

Linking with Ink

It happened slowly, gradually, over time. Without even being aware of it, unwittingly; knowing and yet unable, unwilling to take steps to rectify the situation.

The above description could fit a myriad of possibilities. In this instance, I write about the little piece of me that lives in every punctuation and verb and noun. Every pause and breath, every hurried phrase and pitched nuance. Prolific as I am, restless as I have been, waiting as I always will be, writing is not a mere account of my life to be advertised with good luck horse shoes or deep wisdom. Writing is invitation for neither ridicule nor praise, nor scorn, applause, appreciation nor judgment yet if they offer nothing and remove nothing, by the same token they are condemned as useless.

I took time out of writing to live in the "real world" instead of the wonderland of my imagination. In the "real world" I found the repetitiveness of the everyday both comforting and tiresome. I found that the anticipation to "do" was tampered by the arrogance of "can." I found that years can pass without communication and months can fly without taking stock. Without a creative outlet to channel my frustrations, to vent my hurt and reflect sense into a beautiful, tortured world, anxiousness took over, OCD spiked, possessiveness and control became paramount, nothing else mattered but self-preservation and self-reliance. I was riding the wave that God had created, surfing on a board of impossible grace, not wanting the momentum to stop, not wanting the wind to die down as fiercely as they howled, not wanting to catch the whisper to obey.

I could keep these thoughts all to myself. I could spend hours with stained fingers and bruised sheets, penning thoughts to paper, moving limbo towards a fixed course, all in the privacy of my own world.

No solidarity do I seek,
Nor understanding or comment,
Not even a squeak.

No kind word or harsh reply,
No long time friend,
No passer-by.

No talk of hope or encouragement,
Don't speak of worth or accomplishments.

Each to his own,
Each to his strife,
Each has his woe,
Each has his life.

Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Creating or Finding

Two trains move
Are they side-by-side
Or is there too great a divide?

One starts with I
One ends with me
But is it fate or destiny?

Is therefore right?
Or is it because?
Maybe it's down to a coin tossed?

Mutually exclusive
Do we have to choose?
Must it be only win and lose?

Perhaps the answer as always, lies somewhere in between for the more I live out my little creations, the more I find little impressions of my soul in the expression of my doing.