little girl again

when you were a little girl i used to hold your hand
and you would slip yours into mine quite automatically-
then a few years later, you were growing into YOU
and i would try to hold your hand and you would pull away-
declaring how big a girl you were;
tried to show me at every turn that you didn’t need any help.
and then you became a teen, quite full of yourself,
arrogant and always the drama queen (I may have had a hand in that)
but still, nonetheless, you were still blossoming into YOU
and I stood by, sometimes angry, sometimes sad, sometimes proud,
sometimes mad…
you still turning into this woman-child that I birthed.
Now, all grown up, family of your own and I find myself
sometimes wondering who is this person you’ve become and where
is the little girl that I often wish would show up when you call.
Most days I know she is gone, sometimes I think for good, but then
something happens and there, out of the blue, my little girl appears again.

(#12/12): “Last Words”

 

A mind obtuse.

My verses bemuse.

Information I peruse.

No inspiration from my muse.

 

She is amused.

“Can’t you deduce?”

 

“This is where I leave you.”

 

© 2015 Silvester Phua

 

For John

At our darkest times, I remind you that you love me. I know because you told me long ago.
You remember.
We try. Politeness courteousness finding our way back to each other. Through all of this, it never occurred to me that I could walk away
From my home and my life
It never occurred to me because you love me. I reminded you and you remember.
We are better together. Child-like adults, making adult decisions and treating each other like adults.
Growing hopes and gardens. Growing fatter and older. Growing together.

For my Lucy

No matter what I say or do.

Remember always, that I love you.

Doesn’t matter which road I travel.

Every path leads back to you.

 

Its in those dark nights inside my head.

When nothings between me and this dread.

I’m alone and cannot be found.

It’s you who brings me back to solid ground.

You light the ways deep inside.

You remind me I’m alive.

 

While I made some mistakes.

But I’ll never stop trying

Because without you baby.

I’m not living, I’m dying.

 

No matter what I say or do.

Remember always, that I love you.

Doesn’t matter which road I travel.

Every path leads back to you.

 

I love you always and forever wife.

Orphelia

We’ve never touched hands;

But I know you better than I know my neighbors;

Our eyes have never looked upon each other in person;

But you see me–and sometimes, through me–better than almost anyone else;

Through our electronic conversations  you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best and when I couldn’t make up my mind to be either;

And I have heard your struggles and your story;

At times I’ve been glad you couldn’t see me cry as you told me what you survived;

If I had one wish in compound parts it would be;

To hold you;

And make our pain stop.

-30-

(#11/12): “It Ain’t What It Used To Be”

 

Stone by stone, brick by brick,

Block after block,

Heritage erodes, it’s all history.

 

Soaring soulless skyscrapers,

Shopping malls in gleaming glass,

Our living Stepfordian nightmare.

 

Where will it end?

This pursuit of a tenuous future.

 

Progress is such an abused word.

 

© 2015 Silvester Phua

 

Poem 10

Come with me…

wherever we may end up.

Plant a garden,

hang a hammock,

take a nap.

We will take walks

and talk of things

we don’t remember.

I will cook your dinner

and you will build a fire.

We will spend our evenings

reading, holding each other.

The years will go by

and we will grow old together.

 

Eve Remillard

6/13/2015

Wrong Loves – 15/24

I kissed Midas

and with that, my lips are gold-
I tried to love Medusa,

and now my heart is stone
Steadily, I stole pearls from Poseidon’s throne,

but Boreas took them – my hands, now froze
then I slept with Hades, he burnt my perfect skin-
he caressed me in his oven and taught me how to sin.
I thought I loved Atlas so I touched her tired face,
and with that she gave me

the weight of the entire human race
I was wrong in all of this – in my thievery and love

and wrong for right reasons

to make space for

the one

#15bis – Yellow dress, red hair

Creature_20140920162920 copyYour red hair

Your yellow dress

Your joy from the heart

Dancing all night long

Your delight to be

One of them

When you could have fled

 

That night you inspire

So many to just dance and have fun

You deserve a prize

To reignite the whole city

 

Yellow dress

You made my night

I’ll never forget that night

And your smile

When you dance

Your heart off

All night long

 

Red hair

Yellow dress

Joy from the heart

Dancing all night long

Delight to be

One of them

When you could have fled

 

Creative Writing Basics #14/24

Creative Writing Basics

When I was an undergrad
writing my candid poems
under the tutelage of minds
well-versed in the creative
process of expressing
personal experiences
of relevance
of weight.
I learned to create
tension in a scene.

The young woman stood
with wind blown hair
her makeup running down
the hollowed cheeks
behind her opened mouth
that quivered silently
under shattered eyes
full of blame
for someone
already gone.