24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A magic fork bends within the wind
It’s split in two
One half of the silver leans to the right
The other to the left
The metal lines point out
The way
Each one strays
I slip through
Neither
The Water portal opens
It’s a gaze
Space and time
As I walk through
Leaving the fork behind
As the moment of shredded lessons
It’s the one less road seen or taken
But I was the one
On who saw something
Jesus is a state of mind,
A promise of the afterlife,
A puzzle piece encased in time,
A question mark of questioned crime.
Two thousand years of short shots at eternity,
Two thousand years of sprint from sin,
Two Thousand years of persecution,
Two thousand years of “search within.”
The timber starts to break apart,
Can we now climb up from the cross?
Can we now open hearted love,
Without the fear of lust or loss?
#65
The end of entitlement, or how to get a Newstart in life
the wisdom of Treasurer Joe Hockey on how to work the system
despite industrialisation taking jobs away &/or offshore
our beloved bumbler, believes we should now all work
til we’re 70 before becoming eligible for the age pension
free visits to a doctor, free welfare — no such thing
it’s a safety net, not a cargo net, unless you’re a whale
so here’s some steps to get ahead courtesy of Count Flappy
1. (obviously) don’t get sick, or if you must, don’t visit your GP
2. if you’re poor, don’t drive cars (that’ll save you plenty)
then all you have to do is
3.
get a good job that pays good money
in order to buy your first home
a politician is a pretty good one (if you’re up for it)
then you can charge taxpayers $1000 a month
to sleep in your wife’s $2 million home
Here endeth the lesson.
(Except no doubt Mr Millipede
will put yet another gaffe prone foot
in his mouth again, within a week)
#32. Whoop-de-do!
In case the bees should fail to please
I read in garden pamphlet
Could I Q-tip or tease
take the place of bees
in the fertilization process
Tomato blossoms
would never fruit
unless the pollen boys
could take root
in receptive female parts
so janes and joes were introduced
by means of gentle jiggling
with a little help
from this instigator
distinctly non-winged pollinator
a wondrous haul we made
that summer
no dumber
beginner’s luck than mine
Tomatoes galore
-Knowing when to let go it’s tricky
But the signs are always there. It’s important to recognize when they need the space to grow and also allow them to know the when they staring their journey we are always there. Let them know that it’s ok to fall, the whats matters it’s getting back up. Your child journey would always find their way Home.
—Marquez Meriyen. VII
I am having a superlatively
hard time looking at the
house we chose, knowing
it is no longer my house, that
it will never be my home.
I am awkward, a guest,
an interloper into the life
you are building, choices
push us apart, then forward
on separate paths.
I sob, catching in my throat
the “Stop – NO!” that wants
to leap forth as I drive away,
my possessions block the rearview,
I cannot say good-bye.
His temper was legendary.
No fools he gladly suffered,
Nor tolerated, frivolity,
Despised by many, feared by most,
His word was law.
The colonial master unshackled,
The ablest of men by his side,
A master plan envisioned,
Single-mindedly executed,
Our nation shaped accordingly.
A half-century on,
Of “peace, prosperity, and progress”,
From “Third World To First”;
Much envied in the region,
This ‘Little Red Dot’.
Yet on this eve of ‘SG50’,
A departure untimely,
His people unready,
The nation mourns truly,
Our founding father Harry.
Now the murmurs of discontent,
Grow ever resoundingly,
His shadow hangs heavy,
His legacy unsteady.
So where do we go from here?
© 2015 Silvester Phua
The fork in the road
The decision in life.
Each individual
but all divisible
to the common
denomination
of the fork.
You know your decision brother.
The risk of one road,
the reward of the other.
Maybe in your case
safer is better.
Risk not worth taking.
Too much danger.
Chances are it isn’t so.
Chances regretted most
being chances not taken.
To follow your heart
is the thing to do
and the road less travelled
is the road for you.
WYSIWYG: it goes beyond
Discussion of computer fonts,
And colour-palette editing:
There’s WYSIWYG in many things.
That boy that passed you in the street;
A charmer, nicest guy you’ll meet,
Or else a thug of darkest kind,
Based on what you expect to find.
The lady sitting in the park:
Mad biddy, or a right good laugh?
The children laughing as they play,
Hooligans, or just OK?
For What You See Is What You Get,
Depending on what you expect.
The Day We Pulled the House Down
Dad had purchased the lot next door
and the weak old house that set on it.
Old neighbor Annie had lived there
and left her pieces of memories behind.
We combed the forgotten place and
found what we thought were treasures.
Two small green bottles with aged labels.
One for me and one for you.
Keepsakes of a day we’d remember
with vivid detail like a video loop
that repeats for an eternity in the mind.
We were all there, the family.
Dad, mom, all three siblings.
Dad and brother securing the thick rope
around the home and to the truck.
The truck’s grunting and pulling
until the house seemed to go up
in a puff of smoke, but it was dirt
and the house was falling,
folding in on itself like an unnatural bloom.
Five of us watched it die a loud dirty
long unsettling human-like death.
It left us each shaken in some odd way.
We couldn’t know then that it was a metaphor
for what can happen to regular people
like us in the huge crap game called life.
Our family became a house of abandoned
rooms, cobwebs hanging in dark corners.
Someone took all the trinkets we left there.
Nothing was costly; just precious to us.
It didn’t even feel like home anymore.
Then the house that was home was pulled
by the thick rope that surrounded it.
The foundation crumbled in surrender
and the walls gave up the good fight
It fell with the cry of a valiant, but tired soldier.
We all shed tears as we watched it happen.
Now, home is not a place we can go
by taking a particular road or certain turn.
But the house of the mind has countless rooms
full of lovely things to smile about.