The Poetry Marathon

It begins with a nagging cough that comes to stay.

A general malaise that never goes away.

Then a conspicuous spot on the film.

“Nearly missed it,” he jokes.

As if to comfort.

But, I know.

And even as I leave his office,

Days before I return to confirm the inevitable,

Instinctively, I begin to plan.

Time to get my affairs in order.

Time to set matters straight.

Time to clear the air with you.

A life lived without purpose,

Is now centred around just one.

A life lived without care,

Now must have every moment count.

A life lived without responsibility,

Must now assess every next step.

Our sun dies in five billion years,

Our earth uninhabitable in just a billion.

My time here concludes far sooner,

Measured in mere months.

Twilight’s last gleaming beckons,

As I stumble towards inevitability.

© 2017 S Phua

I see you first.

The fiddler plays.

The dance begins.

We approach warily.

Not quite in sync, yet.

Sizing each other up first.

Determining the tempo of our feet.

The cadence we will take.

What will be the resolution of our caper?

The modulation we will make?

Even before we engage,

My heart’s relentless rhythm,

Already pounding incessantly,

Drums its way into my every fibre of my being.

In full swing we now go,

Matching each other in staccato,

With every beat and every step.

And in the end, where do we stand,

Staying apart, coming together, and drawing apart again,

In this inexorable dance of life?

© 2017 S Phua

What first do I see?

The bearing of your stature,

The timbre of your voice,

The brilliance of your smile,

The respect in your manner,

The warmth of your handshake,

The content of your words?

Or is it, the colour of your skin?

© 2017 S Phua

Couched in my Lazy-Boy,

Beer in one hand and

Remote in the other,

I channel surf idly,

And chance upon this ridiculous movie,

Of giant lava-breathing, fire-spewing spiders,

Spawned from the depths of hell,

Ludicrously called “Lavalantula”.

Starring the cast of “Police Academy”,

Playing it with tongues very much in cheek,

The cheap production values, poor ‘special’ effects,

And laughable CGI tarantulas were a hoot.

What’s worse, it was so well received,

Because it didn’t take itself seriously,

A sequel ensued, I discover,

Imaginatively titled “2 Lava 2 Lantula”, LOL.

© 2017 S Phua

Overwhelmed, overwrought, overawed am I

Alone in this prayer cell, on knees I bend

Reverently and humbly, I reflect, “Oh my”

Before God, I dare not lift my head

My form prostrate, I contemplate, and

Yet, all I can do is think

Unceasingly of my family and of

The life I left behind at home.

© 2017 S Phua

(“I bend my head and think of home” from “Thoughts in the Silent Night” by Li Bai (701-762); translated by Yang Xianyi & Dai Naidie.)

We should talk more.

So I’ve been told.

Let it all out.

Express my emotions.

Share my thoughts.

Say how I truly feel.

This psychology on a dime,

May all be very fine.

But you have known me all this time,

That I cannot reveal any secrets of mine,

For again, need I remind,

I can only talk in rhyme.

© 2017 S Phua

Seeing my bold child,

Taking off her training wheels,

Oddly reassures.

© 2017 S Phua

Three decades it has been.

Has it really?

How time flies.

Long walks on mossy ground.

Short breaths in the crisp air.

Careful treks down the hill on moonless nights.

Fitfully warming hands by dying embers.

Shivering under musky covers,

And scant heat from steel cold heaters.

The wonders of living in an old house,

With haphazard corridors, tiny attics, dank cellars,

But disappointingly, no ghosts.

The joys of drinking hot weak tea,

Gobbling up fries drowned in vinegar, guffawing at spotted dicks,

And going on pub crawls with mates.

These memories will have to sustain me,

Until I return someday,

To this land of a misspent youth.

© 2017 S Phua

“A body at rest, stays at rest …”.

I fall asleep waiting for you.

Against my fear, but I am just so, so tired.

“… Unless a force exerts itself, …”

You wake me up with one wrench of my hair,

And a backhand across my face.

“… While a body in motion, stays in motion …”

I scramble to get up without a word,

Trying to show no sign of impertinence, or pain.

“… Until a force exerts itself.”

I rush to get your cold plates to the microwave,

Until your ankle trip, and I meet gravity,

And all is still.

“If force is mass x acceleration, then the greater the mass of the object being accelerated, the greater the force required.”

I disagree with Newton here.

For the slightest motion of your wrist,

Makes me flinch, and jump, and react, immediately.

“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”

I try to push my bulk off the linoleum

With all the strength I can muster,

As you laugh at my agony.

“Gravity is the force that pulls objects together, and the further the distance between objects, the smaller that force.”

If fear compels me to stay with you,

Would not running away reduce that fear?

And yet, it is that fear

Which keeps me hostage.

I have not finished high school,

But I know these Laws of Motion and Gravity

All so well.

I am numb to the pain,

Impervious to the humiliation,

And resigned to the indignity of my life with you.

© 2017 S Phua

(Author’s note: Apologies for taking liberties with Newton’s Laws.)

Walk down this road,

Wherever it leads you.

Walk off this path,

However far you wish.

Forage to survive.

Build to create.

Forge your own destiny.

On this pitiless earth.

© 2017 S Phua