I might be a fool
Fools are not people who are stupid; they are those who think they are clever when they aren't.if only
a dandelion
pledges healing and serving
any who weeds it
losing it could have
been its mandate that breaks hearts
oh so it’s a pick
hail the bloom that speaks
so much through simplicity
if only we can
Fourteen Minutes
It was 2.42 p.m. At Tamarind station, several passengers boarded the empty last carriage and settled down. Less than a minute later, the train moved off the station and headed east.
Sitting by the window, Selena stared at the passing images as the train moved along the track. She was not sure if life could go on well then. James was a jerk, but her feelings for him were strong. She remembered the first day she met him. She recalled how he had swept her off her feet with the flowers and the cards. And then, there was the first kiss – simple, yet sensational. Everything was beautiful…until she saw him moments earlier. There he was, standing at the platform and hugging another girl. He saw her. She glared at him, looking for his answer. All he gave her was a smirk on his face. Tears rolled down her cheeks and stained her school uniform. Could suicide be a solution? Her eyes still fixed on the images outside.
The future seemed bright. At least that was what the financial report was indicating in the Business Times. Teck Meng was sure that boom time in the market had arrived. He knew he could start flexing his muscles with his stocks and bonds in hand. He picked up his N95 and checked the latest status of his portfolios. Then, he made the call to his agent. Before coming on board the train, he had just clinched yet another deal for his insurance business. Everything was looking up for him. He smiled before turning his head to the right. Then, he saw a schoolgirl and her tears.
Azmi held Rosnah’s hand tightly as both of them were still grappling with the cold hard truth they had received. The doctor’s diagnosis confirmed their fear – she had breast cancer. Azmi’s sense of guilt had just deepened since. He should have spent more time with his wife the last couple of years. He should have been there for her. Linda’s voice was ringing in Rosnah’s ears, “It’s never too early to go for mammography screening, Rosnah.” She wanted to cry out loud, but strangely, she had no tears.
“I’m afraid we might have to remove your breast,” Dr Chan had said. Then, she heard the young man sitting next to her on the left saying, “Yes, Dixon! Sell them for me…all of them. Thanks!”
Lee Hoon’s hands cupped her huge tummy. She could feel him move from within. She had been smiling for a while now, and she didn’t think she could stop. Dennis had told her on the phone that he was returning home earlier than expected from Dubai. He said he missed her much and was really looking forward to seeing her. She wanted to rush home and cooked up a feast for him. She lowered her chin and looked at the bulge on her tummy, “Baby, Daddy’s coming home today. Mummy’s so happy. I’m sure you will be happy when you hear his voice later.” She felt so blessed by God as she pondered over her future. As she looked out of the train window to check her whereabouts, she couldn’t help noticing the glum look on the faces of the middle-aged Malay couple sitting on the opposite side.
Little Raj was playing with his classmate, Jean. They had just completed their remedial lessons with their P3 class, so they thought it was their right to play as much as possible to unwind and to forget about their work stress. Jean was trying to tag Raj and they were running in circles in the scarcely-populated carriage. They were screaming away, oblivious to their surroundings. Then Raj tripped and fell in front of a pregnant lady who promptly helped him up. Without thanking her, he quickly returned to his seat, blaming Jean at the same time for his fall.
Then, someone spoke over the public address system. It was the train operator.
“Time checked, 2.44 p.m. Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen! This is your train captain, Fred, who has the absolute pleasure of ferrying all you dearest passengers from stations to stations.”
Selena was jolted out of her sorrow. Teck Meng stopped reading his papers and was bemused by this short introduction. Azmi broke away from his daze and listened intently, while Rosnah was still deep in thoughts. Lee Hoon stopped talking to her baby and looked up. Raj and Jean looked curiously at each other. And the other passengers in the other carriages were all stunned at varying degrees.
“I know you are wondering why this sudden introduction. I mean, it was never done before, so I can understand how you feel now, perhaps. Anyway, I’ve got a surprise for all of you,” Fred said and paused.
Selena and Teck Meng looked at each other, silently asking each other what was going on. Rosnah turned and asked her husband what the train operator had said. Lee Hoon began to get flustered. Raj thought aloud, “A surprise? Are they going to give us a cake each?” Jean laughed with him.
“You see, I’ve always been wondering what I would do with my life if I know the exact time when I’m going to die,” Fred said and paused again.
Selena, Teck Meng and Azmi began standing up, all looking tensed suddenly. They peered into the front carriages. Many other passengers were also standing and looking ahead. Rosnah was still asking questions, while Lee Hoon started to take deep breaths. The two children stopped laughing as they observed what the adults were doing.
“And I also wonder what others will plan to do with their lives if they know the exact time of their demises,” Fred said calmly and paused.
Teck Meng began dialling ‘999’ like many others on the train. Selena noticed Lee Hoon and went up to offer her help. Azmi sat beside Rosnah and assured her with his touch. The children were still wondering what was going on. They could hear some passengers shouting from the other carriages. The train then passed Sinai station without stopping.
“Guess what? I know what I would do with my life, now that I know when I’m going to die. And I think I’m going to help you find your answers too. The moment I finish my last word, each of you on board will have fourteen minutes left to live. Let me explain. I’m going to drive the train all the way to the terminal station, and I will not stop. I will push the train all the way to the end of the track and…you should know what happens after that. So with fourteen minutes left in your life, what will each of you do? The time is now 2.46 p.m. and your fourteen minutes starts…now!” Fred ended off loudly and went off air.
Pandemonium began to rise within the whole train. Some people scrambled for the doors and tried to force them open. Others yelled away hopelessly. A couple of big men rushed to the front carriage and banged hard on the pilot cabin door. There were others who tried breaking the window glass with different hard objects. Phone calls were made again to the police and then to the other stations, notably Tangerine and Pretoria. Someone shouted into the phone, “Press the emergency stop button!”
“Are you going to spend your last moments on earth doing all these? Surely you are all in a better position than your dearest captain here that life is more precious than knocking on the doors and windows, or screaming at the top of your lungs, or calling for help! Do something more meaningful with your life now!” Fred boomed over the airwaves.
Lee Hoon’s anxiety had heightened. Selena was attempting to calm her down albeit she was on the verge of a breakdown herself. Azmi pulled Rosnah close. Teck Meng sat down too, looking calmer. Raj and Jean, who had just begun to know what was going on, were crying uncontrollably.
Strangely, these passengers in the last carriage had somehow resigned to the fate that they were going to die, unlike the others in the rest of the train. Selena chose to help Lee Hoon in her last moments of life. Though she felt bitter towards James and the thought of suicide still lingered, she felt that Lee Hoon probably needed her now. She just sat by her and encouraged her to continue breathing slowly.
Lee Hoon, on the other hand, had her mind clouded with negative thoughts. She thought of how her husband would react to the tragic news that his family was gone. She could not believe that the young soul within her womb would not have the opportunity to live life, to see his parents, to know the beautiful world or now the ugly world. She could not stay composed. She appreciated the help from this STC schoolgirl, but remained confused to know what to do next.
Despite feeling gutted about not having the chance to build on the success of his own business and the booming economy, Teck Meng knew that his time was probably up. He uttered a prayer under his breath, thanking God for the blessings he had received, and how he should be joyful that he was going to meet him soon. He pulled out the Bible from his briefcase and began reading it.
Azmi looked into Rosnah’s eyes and said that he was sorry to have neglected her. He said he loved her and asked her to forgive him. A tearful Rosnah responded by saying that she had never blamed him for anything he had done or failed to do. She said her love for him was unconditional and that there was no need for him to apologise. Both of them remained in each other’s embrace.
Raj and Jean walked over to Teck Meng as the train sped past Tangerine station.
“Uncle, may we borrow your phone? We want to call our parents. We want to tell them we love them…” Raj could not complete his sentence as his emotions overwhelmed him. Jean stuck out her hand. Her face completely washed out with tears. Teck Meng looked at the children and felt this inner sense of warmth glowing from them. He placed his phone on Jean’s palm and said, “You can keep it.” The two children sat beside him and started taking turns to call their parents. They were talking and crying at the same time.
It was 2.55 p.m. The train seemed to have difficulty maintaining speed, thus the ride was pretty rough for the passengers, some of whom were still desperately trying to find their way out, while others had seemingly given up hope as they settled back into their seats. With so little time left, there was very little they could do to save themselves.
Lee Hoon had finally regained her composure and began talking to Selena.
“I’m Lee Hoon. Thanks for your help…”
“It’s Selena,” the young girl replied.
“Thank you, Selena! I’m really glad that you are here with me. I was from STC as well.”
“Oh, which year did you graduate?” and so they went on chatting away.
Azmi picked up his phone and called his children one by one. He still spoke in his headmaster tone and instructed them what to do after his death. Rosnah took over the phone and told them to take care of themselves, working hard not to cry out.
“I really don’t want to die. I want my mummy!” Jean was crying out loud.
“Me too. I want to go home! Uncle, please help us get out from here! Please!” Raj wailed after that. Teck Meng was clueless. He had never really known how to talk to children, let alone two crying ones.
“Hey! Try this! Close your eyes and say, ‘I trust God to save me!’ Try it,” Teck Meng said. Even he was sure this was a pretty lame effort. But surprisingly, the two children obliged. They closed their eyes and mumbled, “I trust God to save me!”
Suddenly, people in the front were screaming again. The train was approaching Pretoria station – the terminal station. The end of the track was in sight. Almost everyone on the train was bracing themselves for the huge collision ahead. Teck Meng stood and shouted at all of them to pull their bodies close to the metal bars. At least, that was the best they could do now, he thought. Lee Hoon and Selena, Azmi and Rosnah, Teck Meng and the children, all of them cuddled at different spots of the last carriage.
“So this is it, my dearest folks! Have you spent your last fourteen minutes wisely? I bet you have, because I, a lunatic, have done so. Let’s end it here, shall we?” Fred’s haunting voice was loud and clear throughout the unusually quiet train.
Almost abruptly, the train slowed down. But hardly anyone noticed that as all of them were on the floor in various crouching or squatting positions. Then to everyone’s astonishment, the train dragged to a stop gently. All the passengers on board stood slowly, and looked through the windows. Many people had already gathered at the platform, all of them were law enforcers, rescuers and station staff. They could not believe that they had reached Pretoria and still survived. Someone must have stopped that mad guy at the pilot control.
Moments later, the train doors opened. The obviously relieved passengers began to alight from the train one after another. Selena helped Lee Hoon get up and they both walked slowly out of the train. Azmi held onto Rosnah and stepped out soon after. Teck Meng carried both Raj and Jean in his arms. Both children still looked visibly shaken. All the passengers were evacuated from the station quickly. Three men rushed towards the pilot cabin angrily. Their intent was clear. They wanted to beat the hell out of Fred. But they were stopped by several policemen who had them shipped out too.
As Teck Meng walked away from the train, he saw a posse of armed policemen standing outside the pilot cabin. One of them used a loudhailer to order Fred to surrender. There was no response. Before he could see more, he was already out of the train station.
Everyone was escorted to a temporary assembly area some hundred metres away from the station. Paramedics were already there to receive and attend to them. Selena, Lee Hoon, Teck Meng, Azmi, Rosnah, Raj and Jean were all resting together with different people trying to calm them down with reassurances.
Teck Meng found it funny that these paramedics and counsellors looked more nervous than all these people who had gone through the ordeal with him. It was definitely the most harrowing fourteen minutes of their lives, but somehow all of them managed to force a faint smile when they looked at each other, except the two children.
“I guess we can really count ourselves extremely lucky!” Teck Meng finally spoke. The rest kept quiet, but nodded gently. He knew God had protected him well. Through this, he reaffirmed his faith in Him, and he was glad he had not failed him the last fourteen minutes on the train.
Selena was happy that she had chosen to help another person moments before her supposed death. Through it all, she found new meaning in life. She realised how immature and silly she was when she was contemplating suicide after James had failed her. Life is so much more than that jerk.
Azmi’s and Rosnah’s love for each other had grown stronger throughout this potential disaster. Azmi knew he had to spend more time with his wife, while the latter had decided to follow the doctor’s order.
Raj told Jean that he would love his parents more then. He also said that he would cherish his Playstation 3 even more too. Jean said her parents would be the most important things in her life and she would study well for them.
“Fred Ong Kim Loong, 36, who had threatened to derail an MRT train in fourteen minutes, was found dead in the pilot cabin, moments after stopping the train himself at Pretoria train station. He had apparently stabbed himself in the heart after telling the passengers on board that he ‘had spent his last fourteen minutes wisely’. He had also left a written note behind that read:
I believe I have taught the world a lesson in this one precious episode – live every second of your life in the most meaningful way you are capable of. My secondary school teacher taught me that. And I would like to think that I have done it. I have made every one of you on the train reflect on how you can possibly maximise the remaining time of your life. Fourteen minutes was just a random number. It could have been an hour. It could have been two days. It could have been three minutes. It would not have mattered anyway. Because most of you would still waste your life away until you know your time is up. I’m glad that some people managed to live life meaningfully in those fourteen minutes. To these people, I say I’m proud of you. To the rest of you who have failed, I believe my message is clear to you. You know what to do. There could be another Fred in future. So be prepared.
Fred Ong had been working as a train operator for five years. He’s survived by a wife and two children……” CNA News
No options
A failed poet
once said,
“If I can’t
write poetry,
then indubitably,
I could only turn to
masticating veal,
swigging rum,
championing debauchery
with Junoesque lasses of Soho
and wagers on table,
all allied facets
of pleasant pleasurables,
liken to painting poetry –
judicious words
from an unfailed poet
in Sir Wormwood.”
To that,
perhaps amen.
Holly’s Wood
The seed came into her hands and went straight into the mud. Mum said it would grow into a fine tree, and Holly believed her.
So day after day, she would religiously shower a great abundance of water and everlasting love, knowing the seed would grow into the fine tree Mum told her. Water from the canister and love from her lips.
Days turned to weeks; weeks turned to months; and months turned to years. And the seed never grew. Even before Mum passed on in bed that day, she told Holly not to give it up, and that the seed would grow into a fine tree. So she never once relented and kept on in faith what she had been doing over the years. Water from the canister and love from her lips. Years turned to decades; and decades turned to…well…not quite centuries yet. And the seed never grew.
One fine day, Holly came up to me and asked, “Do you believe what Mum had said?” In all honesty, I never once believed, not just because Mum was a great liar, but also, she was a greater mother who would give anything to ensure that my down syndrome sister feel important and useful in this world. “Your purpose in life is to keep that seed growing,” she told Holly.
I looked at her and saw Mum’s image on her wrinkled skin. Seventy years. She had showered the seed with water from the canister and love from her lips for seventy years. Could I just squash her hope with the cold hard truth?
“Yes,” I struggled in uttering that word. She smiled and held my hand, saying, “Me too.”
It was morning when I said, “Take me there.” Holly pushed me to the very spot where she had spent seven decades kneeling and watering. I told her I had a surprise for her and that she had to close her eyes. She giggled and closed her eyes behind those thick glasses. I prayed silently, “God, help me.” I told her to open her eyes which she did almost immediately.
“Look at the tree in front of us. Mum’s right. The seed has grown into a fine tree,” I said, as we both stared at God’s wonderful creation in awe, admiring the beauty in all its glory. I held my sister’s hand tight and breathed my last breath……and Holly lived with her wood happily ever after.
this pain
look
this pain
you have engraved
in my heart
telling me earlier
would not have
lessened it
it cuts across
like nails on a blackboard
and it pierces deep
like a pencil thrust into an ear
teeth into skin
hands into boiling oil
a chopper into fingers
a dagger into throat
blood
would have soothed this pain
for it could mask it
but
how you have punished me
with this silent killer
i could only wish
that someone would end
this pain
i could only hope
that someone would end
this you
look again
Not Me
Am I dreaming? I think so. Or, I should like to think so? Perhaps, I’m no longer sure now. In fact, I don’t think I’m sure now. Is this actually the kind of world I long for? Maybe, just maybe there is another better place out there?
What was it that I truly coveted? Would I have made a wiser choice? Was it a mistake? Turning back time would be an abysmal justification. I might possibly pick the identical course. Yes, I could do it.
Nairobi? Canterbury? Lima? Osaka? Geylang?
If only. If only I could envisage the apocalyptic day of reckoning. Making up my paltry mind would have been a cinch. Or would it?
How much time did I take? 14? 23?
Come to think of it, it didn’t matter where, when, why and how. It was who – you.
It could have been worse, I know.
the wall
there it is
another wall
nothing’s amiss
just standing tall
been through this
at the last fall
east coast’s bliss
with the maiden’s ball
love paralysis
enhanced desperate call
to find the basis
for a brand new mall
candies with kiss
displayed in the hall
emotions that hiss
moved the heart of gall
probe, test the oasis
bite, taste the softest of all
drip
crack
drop
gone
wish
buried
buried underneath a pile of sliced bark and words, i’m attempting to stay upbeat, looking up, like john waiting patiently by his daddy, quietly hoping that his wish of getting that prized archie comics would be granted. 23 has probably become an enigma that even a solomon can’t make out, leaving only a trail of ice-cream that inveigles none but the ants into a stampede. yet, somehow, i know that all is fine if i could just wriggle out a squiggle on the map. call that punctured navigation.
Staying Afloat
A gunshot echoed the last scream in the chilly daybreak. The fighting had finally ceased. Daisuke ambled about from the house, spitting betel and pulling up his pants.
“Bitch!” He turned, raised his rifle and pulled the trigger again. “Bitch!”
I should have become numb since D-Day. I shut my eyes, attempting desperately to dispel all the grisly images.
Blood. Decapitation. Blown-up bodies. Dead naked women. Gore.
I honestly believed God had called me into the army to serve the emperor and his nation so that I could bear His witness and advance His kingdom.
But it had gone atrociously wrong since we walked into Shōnantō. Daisuke had started body-counting, and was pompous in proclaiming his twentieth victim. The rest of them were the same – bloodthirsty creatures who wouldn’t stop. They taunted me to follow suit as I struggled hanging on to my piety.
“Fumitake!” I could hardly hear my platoon commander as I laboured staying afloat in my tears not shed.
“Fumitake!” I feebly stood to attention.
“Yes, Sir!” The rest came close, smirking.
“Take this!” There was a baby of barely a month old in his hands. I was shivering.
“Kill it! This is an order!” I saw this coming, but I wasn’t ready. With trembling fingers, I fixed the bayonet to my rifle.
“May I?” Daisuke sneered, took the baby and tossed it high up into the sky. As I was taking aim with my bayonet, He appeared from the backdrop of dull red-tinted clouds.
Heist
Warmth skinned from within
As heaved through the feminine lodge
Solace and darkness so yearned
At fresh flesh genesis fleeced
Frowned upon palpable silence
Under barrages of soul bellow
Innocence’s divine origin
Now ever deflowered ’cross ages
Visions oh so chaste
By minutes gates of foul exposed
Tongues of cherubic nature shunned
To wag the wag’s the pun
Socks worked for agape
Unto self could sure be done
Wise fools’ calculated acumen
In lust trust then shall build
Fruits from trinity raided
With weapon o’ mess destruction dubbed time
Mahjong
You know how it feels when people all round you doubt your words, especially your loved ones. Gutted. That’s what I’m feeling right now.
I was just sitting there alone, staring out into the darkness, while everybody else was busy catching up with relatives and old pals from work or school. It was supposed to be a time of mourning, but at the superficial level, people here seemed to be having a whale of their time. From smiles to laughter; from tears of sorrow to tears of joy; from condolences to jokes. This funeral wake was slowly but surely turning into a farce.
Granny whom I so dearly loved was called home to be with the Lord just days before that. Perhaps, it was really the right time for Him to summon her after watching her, for quite a while, succumbing to the worst disease anyone could ever suffer on earth – dementia.
Just the other day, she looked into my eyes and said I really resembled Elmo. Then she woke up one morning and called Pa Ma, both of whom were rather bemused. She went on singing “…she’ll be coming round the mountain when she comes…” throughout that day. Of course, nothing beats that time when she hugged our neighbour, Mr Ong, and said, “I love you!” Apparently, she saw my late Grandpa in our flabbergasted mister handsome.
So, the day must come. She called all of us into the room and insisted that we sat down together with her to have a round of mahjong. We were baffled. She had never played the game before. The closest she had come to the game was those times she spent sitting by my Grandpa’s side while he played. Anyway, we obliged and Pa sat on my right while Ma sat on my left. Granny, who sat at the opposite end, rolled the dice. What happened the next half an hour or so was rather amusing. Granny did not know the rules of mahjong, but she went on telling us how to play the game, her own way. The three of us who could be considered mahjong veterans just tagged along. It was rather fun, except that we never got to win the game. Granny did all the winning, based on her own rules, of course.
Just when we were cheering for Granny for winning the fourteenth consecutive time, she let out a chortle and collapsed onto the floor, hands clutching her chest. We scrambled to our feet and rushed towards her. She never woke up after that.
I could hear the distinct sound of the mahjong tiles on the table not far from me. I looked up and saw Pa with a stick in his mouth talking loudly. He said he was going to win the next game boastfully. His three friends at the table laughed with him as they arranged the tiles neatly before themselves. Pa rolled the dice and another game began. Surprisingly, Ma was not there to watch or play along. She was sitting at the far end with her group of tai-tais. They were speaking very softly to each other, obviously building up their gossip prowess again. I could have joined Pa or Ma, but I had no mood. It wasn’t that I felt terribly sad to lose Granny. Yes, I loved her and I missed her, but I didn’t really feel devastated seeing her gone forever. Not when she kept calling me Nemo in her last days. I just felt that I should give her my utmost respect as a grandson. I might not be crying, but my heart wept bitterly on behalf of Granny. She must be crestfallen to see her son and daughter-in-law enjoying themselves with their companions at the wake.
I stood and ambled towards Granny’s coffin. Through the glass panel, I looked at her sullen face, much aged with wrinkles and faint red spots. She looked calm, and that soothed my heart somewhat. As I was about to walk away, I saw Granny smiling. I was stunned for a moment. My heart skipped a beat. I placed my face nearer to the glass panel and observed. No, there was no smile. Ha, I must be dreaming. I straightened up to get ready to go back home to rest a bit.
Just as I was about to leave the wake, I could hear another set of mahjong tiles being shuffled on the table behind the wall next to Granny’s coffin. Ma must have initiated another round of mahjong with her tai-tais, but why would she want to play the game so close to the coffin?
As I walked towards Ma on the other side of the wall, I could feel a little chill. This weather was getting on my nerves. Hot for five minutes, cold for fifty minutes; and this cycle went on and on. Then, the mahjong table and the group of players came into sight. But what I saw next got me standing there, rooted to the ground. Granny was sitting right there at the far side of the table with three other players. They were all rearranging the mahjong tiles, almost ready to start the game. Granny looked up and our eyes met. There was this strange sense of homeliness and alienation going round in me. I simply did not know what to do next. The moment of silence was interrupted abruptly when Granny opened her mouth and said, “Nemo, come and join us!” Well, she might have died, and her spirit might be haunting me now, but surely her state of dementia remained. I would never ever forget what I was about to see next. As soon as Granny finished talking with the smile I had seen earlier at her coffin, her three mahjong ‘pals’ at the table turned to face me, and none of them had a face.
That totally freaked me out, so I yelled as loud as I could and took off. Pa and Ma might have seen their son running in countless sprint races in school, winning each and every one of them. But I bet they had never seen me run that fast, as I disappeared from the funeral vicinity in under five seconds. They found me some twenty minutes later behind a trash bin on the floor just outside a 7-eleven store, arms over legs, the whole body shaking violently with a trail of white foam from the mouth. I swear that wasn’t vomit.
Guess what? I told Pa and Ma, in the presence of many concerned relatives, about what I had seen earlier when I was finally resting comfortably in my bed. And guess what again? They all laughed out heartily and said I needed a rest. I could not believe them, especially my folks. After watching how I had broken into a canter just an hour earlier and finding me next to a bin in a contorted state, they could actually trivialise my story!
“You sleep tight here, Sumo Lee! I’m going back down there to carry on my winning streak,” Pa said. Every one of them started streaming out of the room one by one, all appeared indifferent. I could hear Ma say, “I don’t think Sumo is taking Mum’s death too well.”
I close my eyes and feel a tinge of disgust. How can they doubt me? But I am too tired and too kind to hold any resentment now. My drooping eyelids are about to shut when I hear someone say, “Nemo, come join us in the living room here. We are short of one player.”
cold coffee
the coffee you made me tonight was cold, really cold
the bleak weather that commenced the twilight of celebration
the unrequited calls that heralded the destiny by dinnertime
the sporadic ripostes that pervaded the tête-à-tête
the desolate gaze that was revealed in the eyes of intimacy
the vociferous hush that sustained itself athwart the table
the callous intention that turned out well expectedly
the sorrowful torrents that matched the storm stride for stride
the desultory oaths that was crafted in the vacuity of love
the deceitful psyche that could veil all transgressions
the nefarious benevolence that metamorphosed wrath into exoneration
the fecund blade that propagated the kernels of condemnation
the final embrace that was cherished in the wee hours of life
the coffee you made me tonight was cold, really cold
only blue
just the other day, i was exhaling wholeheartedly everything that was up in the mind. never thought i could do it so well, and could never have imagined that i was actually swimming with you in the pool of possibilities. bet you didn’t think that your actions could mean so much the other way round. the expressions and waves of emotions could have fooled anybody, but me. the bliss that enshrouded the deepest and darkest wishes was beyond any form of depiction. fat or slim, i could never tell. i just wanted to stay afloat and touch the warmth ensued from the smallest squared prime hours spent together.
the day after was stranger, ‘cos the heart fondled no more than it was supposed to be. blue ought to be the colour, but no, it did not turn up.
and the day after was perhaps the strangest, ‘cos the inkling and the tinkling wooed me a wee bit, and i could feel the presence of the positive and the negative blue. perplexed i may sound now, but the fault is not mine. blame only blue.
The Paroxysm of Rage and Laughter
Troubles indeed
Self-control has lost its navigation
Sensibility has been thoroughly
Vanquished and undone
By a certain Mr Circumstances
Whose circumcision has rendered him
Resume the tyranny of time and space
Poor, poor old master
Resigning to have his fate
Condemned to eternity
Not knowing which outburst to abide by
Anger, amusement, fury, hilarity
Laughter, mirth, rage, wrath
If only mortal could innovate
If only divine could intervene
This paroxysm might cease, perchance
Alice and Dodo
Alice: Are you sure you want to do this?
Dodo: Hmm…I think so. Hey, am I the king?
Alice: Yes.
Dodo: So I can do whatever I want?
Alice: You can do whatever you want.
Dodo: Right! I will do it.
Alice: Are you really sure about it?
Dodo: I think so. I’m the king, right?
Alice: You are the king, yes.
Dodo: So I can do whatever I want.
Alice: Yes, you can.
Dodo: Then I will do it.
Alice: I’m not doubting you. But you really want to do it, don’t you?
Dodo: On second thought……I…think so. Since I am the king, I can do whatever I want to.
Alice: Absolutely.
Dodo: I will do it.
Alice: OK! You do it.
Dodo: You mean you agree that I should do it?
Alice: Yes. Why?
Dodo: Aren’t you going to ask me if I am sure about this?
Alice: I have.
Dodo: Really?
Alice: Yes. Come on, do it!
Dodo: Wait a minute. Is there something fishy here?
Alice: No. Why?
Dodo: Are you hiding something from me?
Alice: No!
Dodo: Hey, I’m not stupid you know!
Alice: I know.
Dodo: Then, tell me.
Alice: Tell you what?
Dodo: I am the king! Tell me the truth!
Alice: What truth?
Dodo: Don’t give me this straight face!
Alice: I’m not.
Dodo: Then, tell me what I want to hear!
Alice: What do you want to hear?
Dodo: The truth!
Alice: I really don’t know what you are talking about!
Dodo: Come on, Alice. You know you can’t hide it from me.
Alice: I really have nothing to hide.
Dodo: Please, Alice. I beg you. Tell me about it.
Alice: Are you going to do it?
Dodo: What? Do what?
Alice: Never mind.
Dodo: What did you say again?
Alice: Now I know.
Dodo: I beg your pardon. What do you know?
Alice: I know what to do next.
Dodo: Oh, really? What is it?
Alice (pointing): Look over there! I think something is coming in from the waters!
Dodo (turning his head): What is it?
With one swing of the machete, Alice removed Dodo’s head from his body.
Alice: Oops! I’m sorry. Aren’t you the king, Your Majesty? Thought you really wanted to do it. But guess it was too much for you. Just have to bear the burden for you.
And that was the last Dodo to have existed on Earth. Bless his soul.
To Hell And Back
Watch the old cock pecking the motherly fowl
Live in trepidation of the shadows that loom
Stomach the agony of the nakedness’ prowl
Blight at vicars who offspring in the room
Devastating corollary of the peril taken too far
Heartbreaking moments on the day the lovebirds sing
Mesmerizing close shave with angels of the tsar
Exasperating fruits of labour that are not but a fling
Drill through the brute vigor of the regiment
Healing wounds fixed with an exorbitant popsicle
Take umbrage at the swing of glee and resentment
Finalising episodes of yet another hellish chronicle
Now is the time of respite and tranquillity
But the promise of tribulation sets the path of greater hostility
Miss James
I have nothing much to say, Peter. I mean, how wonderful could my life be when I was named after a comic character?
You see, my man of old back in Webster was a big fan of this superheroine that has the ability to fly and create auras of different colours with power. I mean, come on, what kind of a weird character is that? And just because I was born a female, he gave me that stupid name, Halo.
Halo? I mean, “HELLO?” How many people had actually heard of this comic character? Nine and a half out of ten people associated my name with this bright circle round the heads of some holy bastards. What did I get?
“Hey! Look at that chick with prick, HALO JESSE JAMES!”
Now I can laugh with you, Peter. But I wasn’t laughing then. I mean, look at my name! A freakish superheroine and a fucking male outlaw combined. Can you blame me for having this little gender identity crisis?
Yes, I was wrong to check her boobs. I mean, I myself had none even when I reached 21, so I asked her if I could see what I had been missing. It was my first time for Pete’s sake (not you). Should he be so mean to me? Was it necessary for him to drag me into the woods and shoot me?
Enough! Don’t wanna cry. Can you open the gates now, Peter? I’d like to see how God looks like.
Dying Again
Feline grace undeserved
Almost a definite doubt
Physical passing on only but once
Yet manna comes in the other realm
Opportunities to die living or live dying again and again……
In hope that self-reacontrolisation will surface
Leading to a kicking glorious destiny
Wretchedly the feeble mind falls short incessantly
Losing grasp of the wilful flesoulh
Merrily singing the poignant tune of the robins
Whilst aching through the benign vicious cycles
The ladder up the Tower of Babel
Might justify the conundrum of living happily
Falling down the bottomless pit
No longer an idiosyncrasy
What’s there to live
When dying again bounces to rise?
Call it a day and lie still
Before the false pretence cuts deeper
This one may look a bit cheesy, but nonetheless, hope you’ll enjoy some entertainment value.
never better
cold coffee has just logged in on the msn chat
shining star says:
tiring day?
cold coffee says:
yeah, a little. you?
shining star says:
never better.
cold coffee says:
i thought we had a great chat the other night.
shining star says:
i agree.
cold coffee says:
we talked so much about football, about our dreams to play for spurs.
shining star says:
yeah.
cold coffee says:
i really think defoe should go since barbatov is staying and bent is coming.
shining star says:
we’d talked about this.
cold coffee says:
yes, sorry. just that my perspective on this is rather strong.
shining star says:
no apologies, please.
cold coffee says:
what are you doing now?
shining star says:
chatting with you.
cold coffee says:
ok…before that?
shining star says:
waiting for you.
cold coffee says:
oh…why?
shining star says:
no idea myself….but on second thoughts, i do know why
cold coffee says:
i thought we agreed not to wait for each other online here. i thought we’ll just meet whenever we happen to meet?
shining star says:
yeah…think we said that, didn’t we?
cold coffee says:
never mind.
cold coffee says:
hey, remember we talked about wishes the other night?
cold coffee says:
hey, are you there?
cold coffee says:
hello?
shining star says:
yeah.
cold coffee says:
are you alright?
shining star says:
yeah.
cold coffee says:
you don’t seem to be yourself today.
shining star says:
you were saying…?
cold coffee says:
wishes…i was saying we talked about wishes…are you sure you are alright?
shining star says:
never better.
cold coffee says:
ok. you know what? sounds like you had a rough day. perhaps we should all turn in early.
shining star says:
i said, “never better.”
cold coffee says:
but you do sound disengaged here. you were different the other night. in fact, you did most of the talking here.
shining star says:
never better, please.
cold coffee says:
ok.
shining star says:
you were saying about wishes.
cold coffee says:
yes……i actually have a confession to make.
cold coffee says:
you know when you were talking about the way to make a wish come true……..it’s funny you mentioned using a mirror. you know i actually listened to you. i broke a mirror, looked into one shattered piece and made a wish that middle of the night,
shining star says:
and?
cold coffee says:
sorry, i know i was mean. hahaha! i actually wished that you could just shut up and let me talk! hahaha! you see, you were talking so much that i wanted you to stop.
shining star says:
what did you really say?
cold coffee says:
can’t quite remember. but i think as i looked into that shattered piece, i said something like, “i wish shining star would stop talking forever at whatever cost.” silly, i know. i was just joking. no hard feelings ok?
shining star says:
sure.
cold coffee says:
hey i notice you’ve changed your display pic by the sidebar. that’s a nice pic of yourself!
shining star says:
yeah.
cold coffee says:
you know what. suddenly i think of doing something we’ve never done before.
shining star says:
yeah?
cold coffee says:
let’s start a video call. i’ve always wanted to see how you look in person. and i’m sure you are dying to see how i look in person too. shall we?
shining star says:
are you sure?
cold coffee says:
absolutely.
Making a Video Call to shining star
Hang up (Alt+Q)
shining star has accepted your call
cold coffee says:
hey! i can’t see you. where are you?
cold coffee says:
oh my god! What’s that?
shining star says:
it’s me.
cold coffee says:
stop kidding! tell me what’s that? you are freaking me out!
shining star says:
it’s me.
cold coffee says:
yeah sure! come on! what’s that? show me your face!
shining star says:
IT’S ME!!!!!!!!! DIDN’T YOU MAKE THAT WISH!!!!!?????
cold coffee says:
what wish???? please don’t joke with me. it’s late at night now.
shining star says:
YOU WISH THAT I WOULD STOP TALKING FOREVER AT WHATEVER COST! REMEMBER!!!???
cold coffee says:
you mean!!!!!!!! i thought this was all a joke!!!!
shining star says:
STOP LYING TO ME!!!!!!! YOU WISHED MORE THAN THAT!!!!!!! LOOK AT MY FACE!!!!!
cold coffee says:
oh no oh no impossible this cant be cant be im sorry im sorry im so sorry i mean i no i yes i wished that you remain faceless forever imsorrysorry thats because i i was so comfortable with you that sometimes i wish we could never see each other in person i like this level of anonymous identity i never expected such a wish to come true im sorry i thought this was all a joke im sorry imsorry im osrry
shining star says:
AND YOU WOULD EXPECT ME TO FORGIVE YOU!!!!!!!!
cold coffee says:
imsorryimsorrypleasesorrypleasesorrytellmewhat to dopleasesorry
shining star says:
I
cold coffee says:
pleasedontpickupthe mirror pleasenonom
shining star says:
WISH
cold coffee says:
pleasenomirror please dont make a wish please
shining star says:
YOU
cold coffee says:
please forgive me please no no mirror
shining star says:
DEAD!
cold coffee says:
e;wlffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff
Making Sense
skimming ulysses
plagiarising shakespeare
weeping through clockwork orange
governing edgarallanpoe’s temper
falling for big brother in 1984
guffawing with emily dickinson
celebrating valentine’s day
they all don’t make sense
Door Left Open
Aubrey puffed the cigarette. She refused to cry. The emotions from within could still be contained. She knew she had done the right thing. As much as she cherished her girl, she had to do it.
Alan put his hand on her shoulder. His touch reaffirmed their faith in each other. He knew he was right. There could not be another way out. As much as he cherished his girl, they had to do it.
The screen had been telling a promising story. Images of her eclipsed the dark side of the house. The playground, the barn, the pony ride, the swimming pool, the birthday cake… Her life could have gone on to a fireworks display.
“……happy birthday to Adele! happy birthday to you!” the cheers and applause preceded the end of the movie clip.
“It’s time now,” Alan kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll wait for you.” He disappeared through the door.
Aubrey finished her last bit and put the stub away. Then, it came. The sorrow from deep down surfaced tremendously and took over her entire being. She wept, her hands on her face. She went on for about five minutes, absolutely losing control.
Then, all of a sudden, the tears stopped completely. She removed her hands from the face that was scarred with trails of her mascara.
She stood and moved towards the long flight of stairs. She scaled it slowly, and came to her door. It was left open. She pushed it away and walked to the bed. Alan was there, head hung low. He was sobbing. Aubrey put her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself close.
“I’m sorry, Adele! I’m really sorry!” he couldn’t help but utter, visibly shaken. She was the composed one now. Perhaps, she had dried up all her grief. She took her husband’s hand and placed it on the girl’s face with hers. It was already cold by then. Obviously the drug had worked. She was gone.
They stayed there for quite awhile.
They took one last look at their motionless girl. No more goodbyes, no more pain. They left and came to their lounge. Aubrey sat on the bar stool. Alan went behind the counter and uncovered it from a locked box.
“I love you!” he said, looking at her.
“I love you too!” she answered, eyes closed.
He put it on her head. He pulled the trigger, and she was gone.
He placed it on his and pulled. He was gone too.
The sunlit rays filtered through the curtains and woke her up. She just had a long, wonderful dream. The little girl stretched her tiny body. Then, she was up. She saw the door that was left open. She yelled in excitement and ran through it, the pacifier still in her mouth.
“Mummy! Daddy!” she shouted as she searched. Then, she saw it… through the balcony. The morning sky was bathed in a golden hue. She just stood there, admiring God’s gorgeous backdrop. She smiled.
In the next few days, I’m going to post some of my earlier writings at DLO, not that I’m running out of writing ideas (I’ve tons of them, but ill-discipline is impeding their progress). I just want to shamelessly re-assess some personal favourites. So here goes #1.
who are we?
holy innocents
cocooned in angelic skins
innocuous
screwtape’s charges
peeling in layers
damnable
hideous ageds
melt to core
wasted
soul
beautiful
To each his own seems
A curse that pukes indulgence.
Rise of the decay.
Please, no more plea, or
Reason for my love’s treason.
Just let me shoot you.
don’t know why i’m in such a mood for haiku.
Another birthday,
Another celebration.
Regress in progress?
Raindrops slash my skin,
Leaving behind blood traffic.
Red, amber, green, go.
There are no secrets
In this book of wholesome tales.
Only sheer clean lies.
He swigged the liquor. It was his last. It was the first time he became sober.
As he hit the notes on the piano, his fingers danced. Like the many sessions before, his wife and daughter were captivated. They could name Mozart and Chopin as the greats. But in this musician family, he was THE GOD.
His tears began to synchronise with his music. His mind searched his recent past…
From the day he laid his eyes on her, he felt the need to be human. He struggled with it. He did it. It was not easy. The sophistication tagged with human relationships was beyond his imagination. They faced objections from her family and friends. They were pushed to poverty. They almost gave up their lives for what humans called love. They overcame the odds and kept together. He realised it was worth it…
That instance he carried his baby, he felt the need to remain rooted. Those little eyes, fingers and toes created that admission that maybe the master was right; that he had been so wrong. The kisses, hugs and words made him savour every stage of his child’s growth…
Thirty years was puny against his existence. He knew his humanity had broken down every ounce of hatred within his nature.
Yet, he must leave and the truth must be told.
He finished the last sustained note and looked at them.
He whispered, “I love you!”
The music consumed Lucifer in flames.
He was gone, forever.
I recently took part in another Jason Evans contest with this short story.
Unearthed
Untouched
Yet, unclean
Rest assured,
This will take quite a while.
I walk the streets of Geylang, seeking some redemption. The stinging noises of the frying wok; the war cry of the kopi boy; threads of conversation about football, Toto, politics, the latest Vietnamese chicks – all seem music to my ears. I thought I hungered for food, but the beef noodle on the table makes me puke. Maybe it is the lard smell. Maybe it is the Lucky Strike aftertaste. Maybe it is the suppressed guilt of arriving here. Yes, I believe so. I might be attempting too seriously to delay my gratification. However, the fact is simple and undeniable – I am hooked to the hooker I met the other day. The D-cup and the fair skin; the pretty eyes and the slender legs; the sweet voice and the tender touch – all seem too much for me to deserve. Yet, I can’t let go. Not when I’ve been alone all these sixty-five years of my life. I’d better give myself a nice reward for working my socks off as a civil servant typing papers for decades. Hell, do I even owe anyone an explanation of what I am about to do? Little Red is here. I pull my wallet out and take a peek – two fifty-dollar notes. They should be enough. I stand up and march towards her. This time I am going to ask for the special.
Ugly duckling cried because it felt ugly. It walked to Tom and pleaded the latter to eat it up. It put itself on Tom’s plate, poured some salt on itself, and waited for death. Tom looked at the duckling in glee and hurriedly placed it in his mouth using a fork. Of course, Jerry came to the duckling’s rescue.
I watched this episode of Tom & Jerry recently. I have always thought that the show has excessive violence. But to include a suicide attempt in a supposedly kids’ show? Personally, this is out of the line. My girl has been watching this show for quite some time now. I think I’d better put an end to this.
I see the plain jane
In that gorgeous, sexy babe.
Keep it together!
Grace Kelly you’re not,
Yet more lovely and sensual.
Hopelessly smitten!
I am attempting to write something new. This is just the beginning of another journey. I want to give myself time and freedom to develop this. Let’s see:
“How did we end up this way?”
He raised the sword as he looked into her eyes. She kept silent and her heart of stone was fossilised. He wanted to get drowned by his torrents of sorrow, but any sign of weakness could spell his doom. He paced forward, ready to draw the first blood. She hadn’t move an inch. Her quiet confidence spoke volumes. The twelve-month solitude up the mountains gave her much time to recuperate and to master the strokes. He knew she was more than capable of striking a deadly blow……
The carp has spoken
Peel the bones of fishermen.
Mercy, not killing.
Is that
A pair of scissors in the sky
That perforates my shin,
A drop of mercury
That slithers through my veins,
A tail of Sherlock Holmes
That scalds my two trim thighs,
A sense of compunction
That halts my throbbing heart,
A load of balderdash
That sullies my great mouth
A bale of cottonballs
That blares my listening ears,
A shelf of moccasins
That blinds my eyes with science,
A pot of brewing lavender
That reeks my clouded mind?
The clock struck 7
He spat at heaven
The clock struck 8
He poisoned her fate
The clock struck 9
He fucked her fine
The clock struck 10
He carved with a pen
The clock struck 11
He lacerated her even
The clock struck 12
He ripped himself
The clock struck 1
He cursed the sun
The clock struck 2
He devoured the loo
The clock struck 3
He acquiesced in Thee
The clock struck 4
He bled on the floor
The clock struck 5
He sucked from the hive
The clock struck 6
He scaled the crucifix
And when the clock struck 7 again
Blaze of Lucifer needled in rein
