24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
All play and no words makes Jack an idle boy. So... don't.
Who were you that I saw,
A face among many,
In that passing crowd?
Who were you that I saw,
Still haunts my dreams,
To this very day?
Who were you that I saw,
Anchors me to the past,
Never letting go?
Who were you that I saw,
I blame for all that’s wrong,
To this very day?
Who were you that I saw,
That has me stuck
In this prison of my mind?
Who were you that I saw,
This phantom of my misfortune …
Or, did I?
I remember nothing,
And everything.
I regret nothing,
Yet everything.
© 2017 S Phua
Today, I read
Of bodies long fallen
Into icy graves.
Undisturbed for decades,
Unseen until now.
Yet another by-effect
Of global warming
Lays bare the consequence
Of our ambition,
And folly.
The dire onslaught
Of climate change
Imperils our finite earth,
Opening it
To the inevitability of destruction.
And yet, it brings closure.
To families and descendants
Of the lost and perished.
Their cold fate finally known.
Markers to their resting place.
To the intrepid deceased,
And our dying world,
I can only say
May you, and we,
All rest in peace.
© 2017 S Phua
By the light of last night’s moon,
I aimed for glory.
Throwing on a canopy, hopefully,
Of poetic imagination.
But panic has set in.
No words more have I to spare.
© 2016 SP
Swirling upon this drift of seasons,
My perspective ever changes.
Whither shall I wonder?
© 2016 SP
His gallant heart.
His poetic soul.
His exquisite oratory.
And extraordinary intellect.
This fine gentleman.
This marvellous union of two cultures.
This great statesman.
This outstanding leader of the free world.
Pray that we shall see his like again.
© 2016 SP
In the distance I see,
Nature’s unruffled calm, and unperturbed serenity.
Where nothing beats,
Except my awed heart.
© 2016 SP
Will you come into my parlour, oh dear little one?
And see my etchings, and sit on my lap?
For this I can promise you.
Things will never be the same again.
© 2016 SP
This puffed up orange-bouffanted buffoon.
Whose narcissism knows no bounds.
With a hide as thin,
As his ego is “‘uge”.
Possessing such limited words, and intellect.
And whose tiny hands.
Measure the length of his attention span.
His racist, misogynistic and detestable behaviour.
Offending one and all
Seemingly without consequence.
Agitating incendiary prejudices.
And creating chaos.
Who will rid us of this troublesome rabble-rouser?
© 2016 SP
As I perspire
I reflect that this myth of
Climate change is, not.
© 2016 SP
These mindless hordes
Have descended everywhere.
Roaming recklessly
Night and day.
In a craze to capture,
What, exactly?
© 2016 SP