Poetry and Poetic Thoughts


red bath water.
hindsight cease to exist…

forgot it was that time of the month


The frost comes softly in the morning light.
I see my breath. It lingers in the air.
The sun will come again, the seasons swear.
And I will be waiting for you.

The flowers all have died. The trees, reposed.
The workers walk on water every day.
The earth will turn. The grass will find its way.
And I will be waiting for you.


It’s enough to know more exists without knowing what, when, or how.


Mother keeps going job job jobs



While I don’t want it

To join the office hordes



In their cookie cutter white shirt and blue shirt and grey shirt and black pants

(Ok the ladies get a free pass on this one)

Marching in line to the MRT* step in step

See the teeming mass of humanity in lockstep toward their 9 hour incubator

Where they suspend their creativity, their joy and their life

And only emerge at 6.30, ready to put on their true selves

(Only the young ones! The older ones, well -



Household Chores



Doctor Medicine CPF**)

Oh what a good unlife this is

Neither dead nor alive

Like a grey drizzle that goes on and on

On and on

On and on

Until the day you retire

And then you find out you have forgotten your true self

And that your true self has become the self that was left behind at the office

And so, you go back at 62***, thinking that you’ll finally leave at 92.

Random footnotes:
*MRT = the train, subway
**CPF = mandated gov savings account, 401k equivalent
***62 = official retirement age
Local references.


The one with the dark brown hair lifted a rock to find a message.


Falling apart
Crashing down
The end
Is coming now

Can’t stop
What I’ve started
The falls begun
Nowhere to run

Ohh my ohh my
What have I done?
Put down the gun!!

Dreamers ain’t get no space
No time nor place
This world’s just a race

‘No one gives a fuck about your feelings man’
You’ve gotta ‘work’

‘Bro, you don’t need it!’
This world’s all about the hustle
You only need six hours a night

What are you doing with your time off?
Enjoy being poor

I’m working
Building a business
Creating a context
For the success of myself and others

This is the American dream in action
You’re just sitting there
Watching the world drift by

Ohh poor boy

Business beckons
Don’t delay
The world doesn’t wait

But I do
Empires rise and fall
Tides come and go

What use is your ‘business’?
It shalln’t stand the test of time
It’s already crumbling

You just can’t see
Blinded by greed
You miss your empire tumbling

The systems always falling
Moving closer to its demise
From the moment of inception

All it wants
Is the END

Then it will begin again
But is it an eternal loop?
Is it real?

I don’t know….

What’s real is the anger I feel
Tired of putting on a smile
Being nice


“Insanity has such beauty”, she told me.
She was right.
I was drowning in her.
Gasping for air but craving for her depth to take my lungs.

“I’ve been waiting a lifetime to tell you exactly what you want to hear.
You will hear it first, then you will feel it. My words will cleanse you into a new truth.
And when you finally touch what you thought was Heaven, it will turn to ash.
I will turn to ash and you will have a thirst you can never quench.
You will die with a dry mouth and wet lungs.
You will carry a guilt heavier than Hell himself.

I will bring you to suffocation. Permitting enough air for death wishes only.
I am your death, love. I am what you’ve always wanted.
Touch my pussy and breathe in the French perfume.
Lick my navel and cup my breasts in your palms.
Kiss my neck while you fuck my ass.
This is the moment which is your last.
After this, comes sweet death. After death, I cum sweetly."





May you share with me the lyrics? I couldn’t find them online. Hard to hear all of them. I enjoyed this. And I like the Ankh!!


I’m in the same boat. :slight_smile:


Thanks for the video, Ignas. I appreciate it.


It’s a freeing yet unsettling feeling when you realize you’ve labeled yourself as something for so long because of the situation you were in and then that situation disappears. Once the situation vanishes, so do most labels. You are left with almost a compete blank slate. You can be anything you want to be. Start fresh. But who are you? Who do you choose to be? Does this person appear? Do you make her? Or has she always been there?


Deserted, deserted
I feel deserted
Let’s walk the alleys teeming with danger
I walk in the light and you take the shadows
Let’s see if I feel chased
Let’s see if I can feel the thrill of eyes watching without doing an about face

You and I, we chase and chase
Cat and mouse, we pace and pace
The Moon is lighting up this place
Dimly I can see, you and me
Dimly we can just be, you-and-me

We’re laughing into the night
This is my favorite kind of fight
We’re laughing into the night
I bare my teeth, can I bite?
I bore my teeth, I wouldn’t bite.

What is this ambiguity?
I want to jump and stand still
I want to speak and be silent
I want to stay and go
What is this ambiguity?

Oh no, the Sun is rising
Darling, come from the shadows
Let’s leave this alley together
Let’s fly to a different place
Let’s go, Let’s go, Let’s go

My shadow’s stretching down,
My shadow’s stretching down to find you
I know, I can feel it
You ain’t here, pretty baby
You ain’t here


I really enjoyed this, JaMisa.


Thank you Tiny! I hope you’ve been well :grinning:.


Well enough to put one foot in front of the other. And poetry always helps.


On a night, years ago, a shadow frightened me.
It seemed to come from nowhere. No physical being near to create this image.

It frightened me deeply. A chill and a tremble I could not shake.

It was before bed, before I closed my eyes for the day when I saw this shadow. And as I tried to calm my nerves and rest my mind, I thought of the evil that just frightened me. Yes, it had to be evil. Only because it frightened me. That’s what made sense. Yes, evil things frighten people.

And then I rembered something that had never been directly learned.

The good frightens. The holy frightens. It warns with fear and consequence. Ah ha, I thought! That was no demon, it was an angel.

So now, if darkness presents itself, I know it as a warning to heed from a trusting being.
And a friendly smile is costly.


Snow on the Scarecrow

A bound and tattered sentry
guards the empty garden plot;
frigid winds tease chaff
from beneath his jacket
and chime of fallen things.

Dissolute crows
pick omens from harvest rows,
or they might be comparing
merits of frost pecked pumpkins
to the gush of entrails
from a road kill deer.

Sunset glares
in black, unblinking eyes
of the blind watchman,
but night is kind and silent.
Her silken gyrations leave
the fettered king of morning
in sparkling snow.


I had tonight the same as time before,
But a sliver from my past and nothing more
Filled me with the shadow of regret,
And also joy, and something nameless, yet—

I walked across the room, sat in my chair
And lost all that I had so long prepared.
Entranced by the promise of two-bit joy,
I could not resist that dazzling toy.

Another morning comes. Backwards I tread.
Repeating habits I thought I’d put to bed.
The world outside my laptop fades away.
The person that I was is here to stay.

The trees are silent, waiting for my stroll.
But I’m drawn to that which takes its toll.
The ink dries fast, the pen no longer writes,
Mesmerized by softly flickering lights.