Tragedy

There is no tragedy
without an audience.

Harken, a leaf awake
its stem an unripe green,
promptly whisked away
by a capricious skyward wind.
Curving an arc
of great escape

touched by rays
of a tender sun
it will never
embrace,
and in faltering capacity
taste radiance
it'd rather not witness --
as forces
govern
the upward euphoria
a sinking nostalgia,
spiraling

a
premature
finish.

The first is freedom;
Second despair.
Beyond the nurturing
branches of what was
once kin,
there will be no end
to abandonment
indiscriminate to youth and
order. An ultimate expulsion
to a world of wander
where no dock can or will hold
this cruise with no anchor.

Yet the sun hears.
It stays, no more than
a shining precursor
to luring darkness,
whispering
words soft with tension
against
all weight
of a tireless fate.

There is no tragedy
with no listener.

So if I lose all fight and fall
into a hell
you wish me not to suffer,
do not rally me
to rise again,
but be certain
that it'll be silent
as a tree felled clean
in forests of standing scars.

For there is no tragedy
if I will it not to be.

====================
Dedicated to the person who said that "every kid deserves a cuddle". Both Macca and Mrs Tan are fleeting rays of sunshine I wish I'd more time to spend with, but I know to be content simply having met them. It remains a life of faltering and running away.

Through the looking glass

Upon a canvass gold,
rinse strokes of dappled rose,
pour into a tidal coast
to end with a radiant bow.

But then the looking glass
tips over, and cracks
into a splintering splendor
a kaleidoscopic dazzle

dashing a prickly glow
which spots the sidewalk's grey
but fails to stretch beyond,
where heavy clouds like white-out
away a brooding night...

And flanking mounds of
rock and flora
cradle a town awake,
as party music thinly zaps
the air alive --
already warmed by booze and fights
and briefly joined
by circling sirens
severing darkness.

For it lets loose
that which none would conquer;
and with each truce
the battle is further
tinged with
a sunset-futility
of resent and despair
softly put away
in a busy sand-box
of children and spades
oblivious
to a live tape replay.

And through that glass again,
(a simple shard forsaken)
an arm outstretched in vain
seems trivial in reflection.

For when dawn threatens,
fraught with change and brilliance--
it is dyed a luxurious green
through this fragment of dreams,
of a beer disposed
to frantic smithereens;
Where a town tranquil
With boisterous rancor
Struggles again from its stupor
(Only to await the next slumber)

Forgetting to look at the drapes overhead
Carelessly splashed
Where few remembered to live
beyond the consolidated hue
of reprieve
from glass and pain, past and stains

But if sight is finally lost
on souls tired and worn;
then please,
paint a sober defeat

Hunger

A flicker bursts and light fills the

A cupboard opens, he withdraws a

And sets a pot under the

Where it fills quickly with

Clatter clatter, the pot on the

He twists a knob and a burst of

Proceeds to whine and heat the

As he noisily opens the

The drawer slides open to reveal

And he prepares to set the

As bubbles begin to rise in the

He rustles plastic and pours out

Noodles sit hard and golden in his

He absentmindedly stirs them with

And soon he has a piping hot

Sliding effortlessly into his

He absentmindedly eats

There is no rush

This hunger was easily allayed

But

Please

“Shut up, my dear,” I gently disapprove 

the record of squabbles of my fighting
champions. That I never would say, aloof
as I am. Yet a referee siding

the wronged parent of the day, musical
fist-fight displays; I deftly sand off those
abrasive words. An almost farcical
restraint, I discreetly strive to compose

exacting essays in a library
Of expectations. I hear that quarrel
on loop. Dash quick; go forth in liberty!
Raucous retch, my spirit like a feral

child in the basin. Convulsive quivers.
For all to end, I quietly whisper:
(“Please.”)

Sweetest Smoke II

I like the word –
Cigarette.
It draws out sweet and hushed
The slow burn
Of smoke within, without;
Rolling forth between tongue and tooth
Sip, un-sip
I daren’t draw that sound
From out the depths of your bitters –
That glow a damnation –
Lest they wink out sweet and high
Irretrievably into the nigh-tte.

Sweetest Smoke

I remember when
We collided
How you bruised me then
Beautiful flower
Indelibly indigo
Upon my white-throated youth
A plea snatched from my mouth
To feel the slow burn
Twisting into my skin

Branding the pillow of my thighs
In acrid smoke
Sweet and bitterhigh
Ash into the sky
Gasping and watery
Cigarette burns behind my eyes.

Discourse II (Aftermath)

I remember your hands upon my neck
The only time it felt real
As we splintered the final pieces
Everything in pieces
At our bare feet
Again and again
Until the sweat was finally salt enough
For the wounds
And finally we swallowed that ocean
Finding the salt that christened it
Still nothing extending beyond the wall
Of lungs and skinBut courage enough
To rail against that penultimate concrete
Not in anger
Not in hope
Only a tribute offered up

To a futility finally acknowledged
The last of what remained
Left in that empty stairwell
Something intoxicatingly sweet
In that nihilistic abandon
And a final freedom to realize
That sad poems do not rhyme.

By Extension

This gust of wind all too familiar.
A derisive cold brush
Sieved through open fingers,
With the outstretched arm
Almost wavering
In its resolute endeavour.

Need there be a reason
For self-endorsed altruism
Or the crippling guilt entrenched
In every concern extended.

To be helpless or helpless
In the delivery of assistance,
Which sports greater irony,
Which sports greater agony.

Perhaps it is the inflation of which
What more good we may accomplish
If we'd find some, more, and even all
Luck and cooperation...
Thereby making sense of this shortfall.

But with this, logic too, will crumble;
Just as the hand retreats and nestles
Back in snug jacket pockets,
Silently beating at one's incompetence.

Then extension, intension, intention --
Could possibly matter
no
more.

Turning away, embrace
The more that is out there;
Gently file away,
All reproach and despair.
For somewhere else,
A firm grasp will seek
That extended hand.
Of mutual aid and reliance
This bond shall stand --
Silently making amends.

Walmart Whale

Mom, there are whales
Amongst the parking lots
Majestic blimps they be!
D'you reckon they sail
Down the aisles of shops
On the tides of Kool-aid seas?
And seas they have fared
Of Dew, Pepper, sludge -
These surreal submarines.
Perhaps if I dared
And gave one a nudge
It would belly-up with ease.

Dye

A butterfly flaps its' wings
Hurricane in China

Consider a still pool
Unmoving, crystal clear
A drop of water
And the ripples spread
That drop integrates itself into the pool
And suddenly it's like it never existed
Except that the ripples it caused
Gallop across the surface far and wide
Slowly weaken
Then fade

Consider this moment
A thin slice of time
This is a part of your life
An integral one
Every part of you is made up of moments
Of memories
Paper-thin sheets of time
Stacked all upon each other
And when you are gone and all that's left of you
Are moments, memories
They reach out and touch the faces of those you loved
Nestle in the minds of those you helped
And glow in the hearts of those who
Loved you back

Like a drop of dyed water in the pool
Even after the ripples fade
It'll be like we never died at all

Television

It was a noisy flat,
Full of the bustle of busy lives.
But that was just noise;
To her, it was silent inside.

She rattled shut the gate.
Fluorescent light flooded the room,
But none of this brightness
Could outshadow the gloom
That hang in the air like
Rubber bands gaudily in rows
In the kitchen, like dust
Adhering itself to the brooms.

With a rustle she dropped the red
Plastic bag on a tabletop
That wasn't small enough for two.
The stall owner had said,
"Here's two portions, I know
That it must be hard on you."

A high whine mixed itself in
To the ambient un-sound,
And she caught a glimpse
Of a family advertisement.

The commercial break had ended.
The National Day Parade was back.
Our country! The seeds it had sowed!
We should pay our pioneers back
In kind, was the line the message went
Something along, unabashedly loud.

She watched the little green men
March around on the TV screen
Like children's toys, immaculate.
Dancers barely in their teens
Filled the canvas of the stage,
A picture of youth, girls and green.

Chewing on glistening white
Chicken breast and rice,
She watched a happy family
Of the future do their happy
Family things, and thought
About how it would be nice
For everyone to eat chicken rice
At her table that was not small enough for two,
But that was enough to encompass something much bigger than numbers or words,
Something that surpassed quantity in every shape, way or size, something she had never seen or heard,
But once always knew was there.

Wouldn't that be nice?

Her quiet chewing seemed to fill
The flat. He was always there to
Chew with her, that was until
He no longer was, of course.

The couple from the future
On her television screen
Cuddled with their grandchildren.

Tunnel Vision

Maybe the rust of your tongue
Will suffice
To salt this useless dew
In the blur of my eyes
Raw whites
White hot
Blooming needles in my
Tunnel vision

Afterglow

Roll over to
Sponge up the
Warmth of the
Ghost left behind
Fast evaporating
Into trajectory
Of disdain
Whisked away on
Pitter patter paws
Flash of whisker
Out through my
Bedroom door.

Boxhead

Boxhead, boxhead 

Like a porous loaf of bread 

Dry and brown and plain

Conveniently stackable 

Unassuming flammable 

Easy to maintain 

Empty and collapsible 

Shake-rattle-rollable 

Utterly inane 

Favorite colors, birthday dates 

Bits and bobs and whatsherface 

Paper shredder brain 

Pulped and bleached recyclable 

New and clean and writable 

Broken thought of train 

Permissibly strange 

Oddly, can’t complain

McDonald's Is A Whore

McDonald’s is a mistress
McDonald’s is a whore
Her love is cheap and easy game
Her embrace forevermore
You tangle in her golden locks
When the canteen is abyss

Turning to her open arms
And sweet McFlurried kiss
She begs of you
To stay into
The long and lonely night
The warmth of home
And wholesome meals

Can wait until the light
At the tunnel’s end
When all is done
And exams but a memory
Yet you’ll come back another year
Her love is misery but McSpicy

-------

Okay context: I'm currently in university studying Industrial Design. Oftentimes, especially when project submissions are due, many of us will stay late in studio, working. The canteen closes kinda early (can you believe our canteen is called Techno Edge??? Ew) so after a certain time, McDonald's is our only option left. It becomes an ultimatum where we either have to go home for food, or succumb to McDonald's in order to keep working in studio.

A Salve

Thinking
I turn the words over
And over in my mind
Pebble in hand
Each syllable I find
A dip in the surface
Smooth and austere
Closing a fist
I hold your words dear
And fling them across the water
Skipping, sinking

Stalks Beneath The Wind

In humble golden pastures
Folding into endless skies,
Frost perched atop the sprays of stalks
Threw suns into my eyes.

If mottled marbled welts of snow
Ebbing slowly into themselves
Know their place before the mountains
And the morn that is their knell,

Then I too bow as the cold seeps in,
Like those humble stalks beneath the wind.

Winter Pastoral

Little tree
How many suns
Have bathed you
That they blaze forth
From your branches
Orange-pink rubies
Throwing their fire
Back into the winter sky?

Discourse

How does one share a glass
With another who does not drink?
Who does not sip
And taste
The same notes that you taste
Who swallows the ocean
If only for its water
And cares not for the salt that christens it?
How does one share a roomful of air
With another who does not breathe?
Who will stand in proximity
Even touch their toes to yours
Their fingers to yours
Limbs encasing
But not extend their presence
Beyond the wall of lung
And skin
And sweat
Refusing to release themselves
Into the same space
And take back a piece of otherness
Only to discover it no different?
How does one share a life
With another who does not
Will not
Cannot
Live?

Unifying (Part 2)

As a self-proclaimed writer, I usually hide behind the narrative element of poetry or prose to dilute the possibility of being identified with certain experiences or views expressed. However, I shall now attempt to formulate and stand by my views as best as possible in this following short essay.

The three samples provided in Part 1 merely serve as examples (whether fictional or not has no bearing on our exploration) for discussion of a topic of my interest: Marriage and love.

I would not provide my stand on this issue as of yet, as I instead prefer to lead you, the reader, into carefully understanding my considerations

As the title most succinctly conveys, marriage or any bond between two or more individuals is a continuous process. Companionship is a commitment which has to be maintained and reviewed frequently. Yet, most people view marriage as an end in itself, instead of a continuous work-in-progress. This is precisely why marriage usually fails, or why it results in a culmination of feelings of resentment and injustice.

Then again, what is the 'true' nature of marriage?

Legally speaking, marriage allows two people to now live together, with bills to pay and have children. Yet today, it is not uncommon for people to cohabit with their partners outside of marriage.

Morally speaking, marriage was when one could finally engage in sexual relations. Yet today, this sanctity of marriage is breached, and many are not virgins by the time they have decided to settle down.

We can combine the legal and moral aspect of marriage.

The nature of marriage thus implies being financially tied to another person, cohabiting and having overlapping responsibilities.

However, these aspects of marriage underlines a key issue, which is an issue of boundaries, and extent of compromise. How close should one be to his or her spouse? Is privacy impossible in a marriage? Would you give your bank account to your spouse?

Drawing clear boundaries is part of our nature, as proven by our frequent territorial disputes. Humans, while being social creatures, are entirely fond of drawing boundaries, just like any dog who would pee on a pole and proclaim its territory. It is why the world is divided into so many countries. We value personal space.

While boundaries do serve as an issue in a close relationship with another individual for a prolonged period of time, such differences can be worked around. Let us instead attempt to question the nature of marriage.

Finances and responsibility bring about a notion of marriage as a transaction. People may quantify their sacrifices in terms of money. The checks and balances of the household is undeniably a sensitive issue for some. These depends largely on why they considered marriage in the first place. Some people get into marriage for financial security. One could question how long such a marriage would last for, if it is founded on money. Others are protective of their wealth, and calculative when dealing with their spouses, which result in disputes. In the event where one faces divorce, the hassle of legal and financial issues stay to haunt, as compared to a simple break-up when one is not bound by wedlock. Hence, as marriage is concerned with the legal binding of a couple's finances, it could breed alternate motives such as marrying for money, or fixation of guarding one's own wealth, resulting in a transactional relationship.

However, you may argue that marriage is not founded on transactions, but on true love.

Well then, elucidate this current definition you might have of "love". Is it unconditional acceptance and compromise? To what extent would you sacrifice yourself for your other half? Have you thought out all possible situations and dilemmas you might have to face if you plunge into this relationship?

Focus instead on the practical concerns regarding marriage, as idealistic notions of love blinds one from ironing such concerns out.

It is not to be forgotten that marriage is a union of families, and there are technical differences to be sorted out when forming such familial ties. To marry is to be a mediator of sorts between two families, and that of course requires decent social skills. Moreover, there requires a sense of responsibility on one's part, and not one who merely denounces his stake in arguments at hand.

Many fail to recognise this uphill task, at least from what I have experienced. The overemphasis on "love" in marriage blinds them so, thus overlooking marriage's pragmatic concerns, whether it is finances or the placating of disgruntled in-laws.

Now, let's suppose that this popularised notion of love indeed holds true.

Love is usually seen as "unconditional acceptance and compromise". However, if love runs through as marriage's true essence, why do religions then rally against love of other sorts? Why are they so vehemently against gay marriage? If love is indeed"unconditional acceptance and compromise" as mentioned earlier, they should celebrate it in all shapes and sizes, and give gay marriage their blessings.

Double standards run everywhere. But let me now venture to suggest that these anti-gay rights people are identified as such because they have a glorified notion of the union between a man and a woman. Additionally, more often than not, we do notice that these people are also advocates against abortion.

Adding two and two together, this leads us to conclude that procreation and sex are inherent in the discussion of the concept of love, and subsequently, marriage.

Is it justified then that marriage is for procreation?

The few reasons for procreation are: humans' overwhelming sense of self-importance and want to continue their family line, as well as hope of having children who would take care of them when they are old.

Procreation to continue the human race is fuelled by an inflated sense of self. Yet, is there a good reason as to why humanity should be preserved? Is there a point to our existence? Is there any purpose to continuing your family line, except for mere tradition's sake? I'll cut this possibly long argument short by simply stating that, every species has its time to shine. And ours has gone on for far too long. I don't actively root for the demise of mankind, but I do not shun such a possibility either. Therefore, I fail to be persuaded by any argument that marriage is necessary for carrying on the family line or keeping the human race from extinction.

Secondly, not all humans make good parents. Pragmatically speaking, parents want children to take care of them in their golden years. Again, this is a transaction of sorts. As a person once told me, filial piety is a slave concept. If a child is raised well enough, he or she should know to repay the kindness of his parents, in goodwill just as they have treated him. Being overly pragmatic would see parents run the risk of instilling a sense of crippling debt in the child towards the parent. Such pragmatism should be avoided if not marriage and children would come to no good end.

Thirdly, a more idealistic reason given is that parents view a child as a product of their love. If turn out to be responsible parent, that is jolly good for the word. If it turns out otherwise, it is most likely due to a skewed notion of love. There is a difference between loving someone else, versus liking the feeling of loving another. The latter is selfishness, and perhaps fuelled by egotism.

In the realm of marriage, people are conditioned by media and religion to think of an ideal partner, ideal marriage life, and ideal children. Most definitely, we live with an idealised notion of reality on a regular basis. However, romantic ideals tend to be the most charged of them all, fundamentally the same sense of entitlement which also fuels religious ideals.

It is when an individual forcefully imposes his or her ideals on another that family life becomes a burden. Most parents proclaim that they know what is best for their child. They fail to accept their children for what they are, even driving children out of their own homes because of differences. They use their children as a means (as if they were objects) of living out dreams they themselves have failed at. It is general lacking in parents that they respect their child as their equal, and they fail to see that children are also vehicles of their own free wheel.

These are no doubt simply people who prioritise themselves over others, treating others as a means for living out and imposing their ideals. Such people should abstain from marriage or any remote want of building their own family. They would only ruin the lives of others by restricting their freedom.

Since there are people who aren't fit to be parents, unable to nurture a child in the best way possible, then we should have people abstaining from procreation. From the moment a child is born, he or she is scarred by this world. Adulthood for a child is at best a recollection of  dreams forgone;and at worst, spent recovering from childhood trauma.

Let us veer off slightly, and return to the issue on procreation. Suppose we have a couple would make really good parents. It is more often than not that they would choose their own flesh and blood. However, is there any remotely logical reason as to why should they not turn to adoption instead? I shall explore the following reasons as to why adoption should be preferred.

Firstly, there is a probability of defect in each baby born. Why would you want to take a risk on a human life? Secondly, there are children already born into this world living in substandard conditions or in abandonment. Not having a safe and nurturing environment can reduce a child's IQ by about 12 points, according to a study conducted.

If you can provide an environment and reduce some pain in another already living soul in this world, why not? I particularly salute those couples who decide to adopt disabled children, and work tirelessly to ensure their development. There is no reason to take the risk of having a child born with defect, bring another living being into this world to suffer, when you could possibly change the life of another while fulfilling your need to channel your paternal or maternal instincts.

You can very much get the gist of my views by now. I am against relationships which are transactional, self-centred and overly pragmatic.

I have mentioned about most people having a flawed notion of love. Love is either transactional for them, overly romanticised as seen in movies, or tainted by the notion of sex.

It would thus be of little surprise if I now recommended that people stay celibate. Platonic love is the purest form of love, and does not mar the clarity of your relationship. Relationships run a risk of being transactional, especially if a relationship has accounts of sexual gratification. Platonic love, on the other hand, is instead the simplest and most basic form of companionship. One gives and unconditionally, and accepting his or her spouse for who they are, and does not attempt to re-shape the spouse's character according to a specified mould in one's head.

In summary of what has been discussed thus far, marriage is generally founded on the unison of finances, production of children, or seen as the concretion of love. Being overly materialistic, seeing children as a mere product of love, and prioritising one's feelings and ideals should be avoided.

My final point would be, the frailty of human nature and our capricious tendencies. I do agree that compromise in any relationship is sacred and should be cherished. However I question the duration of such compromise. Can marriage ever be "survive till death do us apart"? What is the probability of finding true love and sustaining a marriage? How long can a marriage last before a party threatens to file for a divorce? On the other hand, how far can one compromise? On this note, do not forget then that it is usually the quiet ones who are perpetrators of homicides. Silent forbearance may result in stifling one's emotions in a marriage, to the point of depression.

I am thus generally against the concept of marriage, as it is regrettably tainted by materialism, sexuality, and misconceptions.

More significantly, if two people were indeed in love, why did they have to have God as witness for their unison? Is it not enough for silent companionship? Why is there a need to proclaim to the whole world? Is it for show?

The concept of marriage itself speaks of the divide between appearance and reality, as the couple usually keeps at maintaining a façade of happiness despite having a rocky marriage once they have signed the contract, due to social pressure and personal pride. Yet, loving another unconditionally requires no need for formal recognition, whether by others or by God's verdict. Or does it?

I unfortunately fail to answer the aforementioned questions.

I shall end this long-winded piece of writing with an anecdote.

A friend once gasped at my proclamation of not believing in marriage, when she implied interest at knowing who my future partner would be.

She asked the queerest of questions, saying, "If you don't believe in marriage, then do you actually attend weddings?"

I paused, gave a simple cryptic answer, "If I don't believe in death, do I not go for funerals?"

Indeed, I may hold certain views, but tolerance of diverse sets of opinions is a virtue every educated person should possess of. There are enough bigots as of yet. And if you're getting married, I would most certainly bless you.

Perhaps one day I would finally believe in marriage, though it would strictly be limited to platonic love.

And maybe, amidst all this failure and betrayal in this world, there lies some gem in the concept of marriage I have not yet perceived, which will finally kill the cynic in me.

- Signing off,
Idealist