24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Beautiful Thoughts
You are each beautiful thought
You make me distraught
You bring me serenity, complete my identity
Uproot my morality
I have waited too long
But time does me no wrong
You worth each moment of agony
A never-ending sea
Of beauty, of compassion; each uncontrolled passion
Each undefined impassion
You make my misery wrought
Ah! My beautiful thought!
On a hot day,
Somnambulant in my study,
My tutor put my skills on trial.
A vocabulary throwdown, if you will.
Go for it, this shy pupil was told.
What’s most common? No way!
“You can’t possibly know till you try, my boy.”
Probably not, I thought.
It’s just too hard to avoid using it!
It was straightforward.
A quick solution without complication.
Now, I know!
© 2015 Silvester Phua
(a haibun)
My mama always says there are no good moves. Something always gets lost. Something always gets broken. Some last minute much-needed kitchen item winds up in a box marked Bathroom. There isn’t enough packing tape in all the universe for all of Granny’s heirloom eggs, which are on their 11th move in 20 years. We survey the world around us and deem many things we were just using yesterday as unfit for cardboard travel; relegate them to garage sale piles and secondhand store fodder. We fold our losses and fill the boxes and ask ourselves, What’s worth keeping?
Pack up all you are.
Arrive on the other side
fragile, and less whole.
**hour 12 written off-site and posting late**
A second chance is hard to give
Specially when I knew you will cheat
But when you plead
And humbly sorry creed
I will give you a second chance
Rather than ignorance
I will give you a chance because I love you
Not only words you know
But the foundation we had
An unconditional love
That make us firm
That holds us tight
Those prayers we made
Along those tidal wave
We swam, we sunk
We fought, we love
Hope you won’t waste
A love, a chance
Hope you will change and develop
Hope you won’t regret when you come back
Be a man, and renew everything to make it right
Be a man, that you deserved a second chance light
Be a man that you deserved love
Like what we had promised “love, if we had a chance”
The State Theatre
The traffic lights are a different
Shade of green tonight,
And I lost my hat.
The movie was so good,
It was really long too, you said,
And maybe the seats were uncomfortable, too,
But your hair wasn’t in the way,
Your head beneath my neck.
The balcony steps out and it takes time
To learn the whole storyline,
The movie better than I had expected.
I had to look twice,
To see that you were crying,
And I cannot tell if my eyes
Said they were sorry, or if my hands
Holding yours could draw down
The curtains to stop the movie—
I can’t reach that high,
With all this sore doubt, unable
To bend my arms.
I am still under the flickering lights,
And you shiver to go home,
Walking four blocks away to your car—
And I would hold your hand,
But dad would definitely see,
And we wouldn’t want that, would we?
A kiss on the forehead means so much;
Stop spinning, my thumb spinning round
Yours, no, my head, my thoughts
Scattered on the ceiling, stop spinning.
You knew I would hold
Open the door for everyone,
The stairs a clatter for escaping shoes.
Passing by the people
Smoking on the sidewalks,
You said, let’s be best friends,
Because I don’t care about
The generic movies that everyone
Is angry that you haven’t seen,
And you don’t need popcorn
To place in your heart a better
Scene of the true stage directions to
Actually make this night memorable;
So why didn’t I just kiss you?
The rain after the show
Smoothened out the sky,
The streets heavier with cold,
And the snow is receding, flattened, dirty,
Mud sputtering from anxious tires blathering,
With kids splashing in the puddles.
Dad has never once asked
If I am the man I ought to,
With all these questions knocking:
“Where is she from—didn’t you say—
Why don’t you take—are you going to ask anyone—
You should buy her a corsage—are you ignoring—”
Please, stop lying, I tell myself, I shouldn’t
Go on like a bloody rag doll.
Hey, get up, that door will take you to Front Street,
Right on out—the movie is over.
Is it the right time for me
To ask you these questions
I’m always guarding in my mind?
You know this body is not my own,
This painting in a frame still unfinished,
My queue blurry and uncertain still,
The movie still having a long way to go—
But please don’t drop me, even if
You have to go home for dinner
Because your mom wants you back.
Hey dad, I told myself we were
Exactly like the two characters
Following that exact script in one of
My favourite movies.
And now I understand why stage left
Wasn’t where my heart was,
And centre stage the audience is
Awaiting, expecting, pleading, worrying, gnawing
For the moment for me to say and act
Those lines under the starlit stage—
And who needs applause when holding
That person’s hand means so much more.
You say, those aren’t your lines,
It doesn’t matter, and I said
If you want to cry on my shoulder, it’s fine,
And I don’t care about the ice that stiffens there,
Nor do I care about the things
Everyone seems to say backstage
When you’re front and centre,
Because they just need to stop,
My words cannot speak through my hands—
And please don’t demean yourself
For being you, because I don’t care
What the bloody world thinks of you,
Just being unjust.
And I’m no critic to critique,
But I don’t want to be the cliché line bound to fade,
And you can’t go home without love;
I don’t believe anyone can.
Just leave the poet inside your head,
You told me, but I can’t;
I saved you a seat up on the balcony,
The red seats empty on the ground floor.
I had forgotten this name given me,
Till John said it in the aisle, and
If only I could hear my character’s name—
No, I need to say it myself,
Say that I am myself, me being me,
Say that the stars on the ceiling are not
A joke, not a hoax, allowing no vile darkness
In the crowd, but a sign of
Something I need to show the audience—
That I am not as lonely as a star.
I’d rather hear you talk to me
All night, than hear myself talk to thick darkness.
The fake step at the bottom
Of the stairs is after my ticket,
Useless, but a stub, and will you slip
Before me? Please don’t break her heart,
I’m a fool with a hammer and glue
To try and fix things as such,
But a fool needn’t know how
To draw a smile upon your face.
This night, I am waiting, watching,
The clock tower obscured in the dusk,
And I never watched your car leave,
But dad turns on the radio,
The river below the lot a glossy ink,
And let’s just leave, dad, just let me sleep—
I don’t want dinner when we go home, dad,
But thank you though, let’s go in.
“Sir, it’s not a heart that I am looking for
In the lost-and-found.
Oh, never mind me, thank you, I found it.”
Dad, I love how homely and luminous
The flashing theatre lights seem to dance
About in the street shadows,
And the weary black letters
Look like a gathering plea to come
And relax, the velvet chairs always
Vacant somewhere to watch a fine show;
“It’s great—”
I breathe, in the ashen, smoky, Front Street air,
“It’s great at the State.”
Hey, there’s wind down the curb,
Brisk, invisible, borrowing the sound,
And all I can ask is to go take a stroll down Cass Street;
But I worry, dad, why was it so
Cold to her, yet just plain to me—
This exiled wind?
Oh, I don’t need to know, dad,
You don’t have to think so hard for an answer,
But I found my hat inside
After the show, you know;
I just wish she had her own.
I was thinkling of you just now as I sit out front in you wicker chair
In this chair I feel your body up against mine, I can see your delicate skin so soft to the touch
thoughts of you walking up with such a beautiful smile so happy to see me
Thoughts of talking with you enjoying our time together
I can smell ur sweet scent as if I was holding you in a loving embrace caressing your face as I nibble on your neck
I see your hand rubbing my chest with your head on my shoulder with something on TV but we don’t care because we are so wrapped up in the moment and each other
All I want is these thoughts to see you smile at me, to see you want the affection, to see you express it, and I get all of that in this chair
Discomfort, uncomforted pain.
Dislodged, shoulders, insane.
Necessary, supply, demand.
Convenience, not in hand.
she curls in, possessive
of my love – a contraction
of sloppy kisses
and tender paws.
**hour 11 written off-site, just now back at my computer to post
If you were to stumble,
Brother, I would steady you
If you were to tire,
Brother, I would carry you
Brother, if you need me,
then you have me
Brother, if you miss me,
then you’ll find me
If you were to suffer,
Brother, I would ease you
If you were to promise,
Brother, I’d believe you
Brother, if you ask me,
you will hear me
Brother, if you call me,
you will see me
Brother, if you were to perish,
Brother, I would join you.
You opened up inside
I want to feel that you’re alive
And understand your old electricity that died
I want to drink the water from your soul
And swallow the truth of what makes you whole
I want to listen to the desires within your lips
And hold onto you as you may lose your grip
I want to feel the rhythm of your heart
Even when we are apart
I want to lock into your love shadows
I want to sizzle- you to the end of my world
And dash you through my sensations of my soul
I want to evaporate my past within
Because I want our relationship to be pure not sin
I want to intrigue you into my colorful mind
And take you beyond the intellectual of my love
I want to pull out what other’s fear
I want to be there to wipe your tears
I want to respect all your dreams and goals
Your actions will show me how you’ll keep us both whole
I want to be there for you when you need to express the pain
I want to watch you when it’s time for you to gain
I want to channel into your passionate ways
As we unite in the cycle as one with each passing day
And I want you to believe in the words I say