ANTHOLOGY
deathsticks
burning bridges on the meadow
disillusionment
the absent figure
lento con gran espressione
the digital dolt
you | you’re | your
dempsey hill
typing: clicks and
the hipster’s guide to café hopping
memory lane
our last embrace
deathsticks
hand outreached,
eyes open,
whisper in ear,
“inhale”
started with one–
…puff
her lips on mine
…kissing back,
too much…
smoke
cannot
|
|
…think.
chest strained,
lust pervades.
exhale…
...
tomorrow,
fingers stained,
eyes closed,
silence in ear,
… one last puff,
ended with none
burning bridges on the meadow
my mind started spiralling out of control
since i saw your rosy red lips mid-day.
on saturday, i really wanted you to go.
but wait! before you leave, i need you to know
about the fact that we danced the night away;
my dazed mind was spiralling out of control.
why did you hold my hand? what did you want to show?
your lack of reasoning left me at bay.
i knew, then, that i wanted you to go.
“yes,” you yawned. you stood still in the meadows.
you gazed at me; your tired lips drooped in dismay.
my mind already spiralled out of control.
you stopped then. you hit me. from the afterglow
of your body. you weren’t going to stay.
i knew right then and there that you had to go.
your great blow left me sore from head to toe
and soon i figured out that you weren’t my bae;
my mind and body spiralling out of control.
since saturday, i found out you were a no-go.
disillusionment
the feeling of deletion from another’s life
the feeling of longing for the past
the feeling of despair from loss
the loss of feeling
when i watched you suffer in agony
without knowing of your suffering
i find myself lost for words, thoughts
and emotions–but sadness and regret
the first time i met you
i knew we would be best friends–
your charm, charisma, and character
made those around you love you
the time i told you we were assigned the same suite
over facebook, we celebrated–
you asked if i played poker
i lied and said, “yes, i do”
the time you invited me to play poker
i had no idea what was going on
but you taught me the ins and outs of the game–
i was more than happy to learn from you
the time you joked about dropping out
we both laughed. little did i know
you were serious–
we never talked about it again
the time you didn’t want to have roasted barbeque
i agreed to eat at the food court–
you ordered my suggestion, shrimp fried rice–
i won
the time you told me about your girl issues
i shared with you my very own. who
knew you would take what i said to heart–
the instant i revealed my thoughts, i lost
the time you challenged me one on one
on court. i laughed, thinking you couldn’t play for shit
you beat me eleven to seven–
i lost once again
…
the suite felt empty one day–
you disappeared off the face of this planet
you found happiness
you left me in the dark
i saw you last weekend–
you refused my eye contact
you rejoiced with others
you left the system
you
said
nothing
as you left
you
left
with
no warning
you
left
with
no apologies
you left when i suffered most
you left when i had no direction in life
you left when i was most vulnerable–
you were my big brother
…
now, i question what i’m doing here
if my ex-role model (22 years young)
refuses to live twenty-five minutes
away from home
what am i doing an ocean away
from the people i love most
what am i doing in a country
that represses my personality
can you imagine, just for one second
what it’s like for a nineteen year old
to spend time in what you now call ‘hell’
because i do
the absent figure
i cried; yet
you never listened
what kind of person do you want me to be?
no
certainly not like you
whose presence in my life was simply a mirage–
disappearing as i chased, nearly
impossible to attain–
giving up
after your shadow
left
me
pale
bleak
desolate
…and benumbed
…
i prayed
you never heard
i lost
you never cherished
…
forget to live life
retreat to room
look in the mirror
see a monster
cry, pass out, wake up,
rinse… repeat
…
refuse to move and
cannot see the point of life
be right back,
must drown to breathe
lento con gran espressione
-tonight,
i play chopin.
the heat from my fingers
radiate onto cold ivory keys. hammers
slam down onto strings
producing chaos, competing
with heavy raindrops. chords
discordant. scales
rambunctious. ornaments
bludgeoned. cadence
destroyed. clearly,
music i do not do, as chopin sluggishly
rolls
over in his grave-
the digital dolt
always the first
to include her
in my facebook posts,
became the second
to follow
her on instagram
maintained third comment
on her daily
tumblr re-blogs
fourth to share
her posts
with my friends
last to care in real life
never said “hello”
always a cold shoulder
you | you’re | your
sun-kissed skin, glossy
from the past three thousand
thirty-three seconds
telling me your
“loins are
on fire,” ambitiously
nudging me onto
your parents’
freshly-made bed
requests
innocent,
at first
whispering
“please pet
me”
commands
forceful
next
begging
“take me
or die”
…
fumes fornicate in
the air before forcing
entry into nostrils
eyes heavy, your
ear on my chest, our
fingers intertwined
mouth slightly ajar, your
lips numb, your
tongue sore
continue 'til
numbness subsides. maybe
pain will take over
demspey hill
take cab
be there soon
pick spot, you don’t know
see where conversations go
shaking, in my bones
don’t go out anymore
you seem damn composed
see where conversations go
weather’s pretty nice
twenty questions, tonight
playful little fights
whisky in stomach, just right
guess he wasn’t good to you
sorry, he played you for a fool
something i’d never do
did i mention you’re looking pretty cute
bar’s closing, don’t want to leave
had great time, surprisingly
oh, you feel the same i hope
see where conversations go
weather’s nice
walk along riverside
hold hand in mine
unison, step in time
moon said goodbye
eyes feeling heavy
before we go, missed one thing
end with a perfect kiss
weather’s pretty nice
moment couldn’t feel more right
wish i had one more night
just like that, fade away
half way around the world.
flying back to what i call home
just got back, here we go
in another place, all alone
bartender make me whiskey
this girl, make her something sweet
says let’s go, sit still
thinking about dempsey hill
typing: clicks and
clacking of fingers–
a distinct melody that lingers
children and adults alike
take part in this music-making unlike
that of any other
each keystroke becomes smoother
as fingers swiftly run across keyboards
making distinct chords
and creating music
becomes therapeutic
drift into the deepest abyss
of bliss
the hipster’s guide to café hopping
destination:
bukit timah
date & time:
saturday before nineteenth birthday; arrive when the sun is at 45° from the horizon
outfit:
white dress shirt, suspenders, skinny khakis, red leather belt, funny socks, loafers, pseudo-glasses, and messenger bag
things to bring:
iphone 6s+, film camera, leather-case notebook, feather-pen, broken t-bone, and ernest hemingway’s the sun also rises
directions:
1) take 196 to buona vista
2) ride train to beauty world
3) wander aimlessly until sufficiently lost
4) talk to strangers
5) enter respective coffee shop
objectives:
§ talk to baristas and get their numbers (on receipt paper)
§ act cultured by adding unnecessary french and italian phrases
§ look intelligent by faking eureka moments
§ drink a cappuccino in the morning
§ drink a flat white or long black in the afternoon
§ drink a decaf café latte in the evening
…
this is how we met,
in the midst of your desperate cries–
your shifty glances indicated
vetted interest
later that afternoon,
i became your stallion
by carrying you
through the
humid plains of
bukit timah
memory lane
were i to dream
i would of you
your eyes gleam
as mine do too, but
no longer mine is you
today, i watch from afar
reliving our best
tomorrow, we will meet
after mistakes are forgiven
and joys remain
our last embrace
my eyes are your eyes
where my gaze is caught
by your heavy eyelashes
wheeling me in closer
my nose is your nose
where my apex
fits snugly into your nadir, an
unspoilt yin to my yang
my mouth is your mouth
where my lips and tongue
waltz in your grand ballroom
roping me in deeper
…
good to know
this is the end