Details |
Singaporean Poem |
|
La capinera's wintering pieces of tropic tunes
The garden warbler's echoes of dark melodies
Post-colonial poets return by summering fortunes
Learnt by rote as sacred Oxbridge duties
Note
The French "pantoum" may be modeled on the Malay pantun,
or at least it may aspire to, but it does not adhere to its
fundamental compositional criteria. For the original prototype,
cf. T. Wignesan, "The Poietics of the Pantun" in Journal of the
Institute of Asian studies, Vol. XII, n° 2 (Chennai), March 1995,
pp. 1-15; reproduced with corrections in T. Wignesan. Sporadic
Striving amid Echoed Voices, Mirrored Images and Stereotypic
Posturing in Malaysian-Singaporean Literatures. Allahabad:
Cyberwit.net, 2008, pp. 49-67.
(c) T. Wignesan - Paris, 2012
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2012
|
Details |
Singaporean Poem |
|
I am a creator.
Jack of all trades but a master of none.
I am a procrastinator.
Just always want to have fun.
I am a poet, A composer.
With a mouth like an unloaded gun,
A Skateboarder, A poser,
What will they think of my father’s son?
I am 30 but I don’t feel I am,
More like a 14 year old trying to grow a moustache, which I can’t!
Hate social media but has FB and Instagram.
The notebook of my experience and a selfie of me so tanned.
Not too tall or short. Average height from my land.
I am neither an Asian nor Singaporean, I am just a Man.
Believe in a world with no borders as much as I can.
Hoping dreams will come true so I can stop to pretend.
I am in love everyday for this, I only believe is real,
Profess as much as I can to my dearest of how I feel,
Countless mistakes with no regrets are my life’s ordeal,
Although jumping off cliffs are my favourite thrill,
I trust not in politics. My mind shut off and sealed.
Trying to get out of this matrix and all sorts of bills.
I manage for a living in an industry too ill.
Only these words can help me confess and heal.
My passion is thought. Thinking of everything that could be.
In love with the stars and the trees. The Divine Beauty!
Lost in the darkness of night with faint twinkle stars in this bright city.
Living in these moments with highest times. Here, it is never easy.
Contented. Appreciate. My creations are my reality.
Spread Kindness! Our actions are our only legacy.
Mysterious life. Within me a singularity.
I am. No one else in this Universe is like me.
April 8th, 2015
Fariq Yusoff
Copyright © Fariq Yusoff | Year Posted 2015
|
Details |
Singaporean Poem |
|
Loss fills the air
As people queue;
Death can speak
~~~~~~~~~
A common thread
Links us in gloom;
Mindful faces
~~~~~~~~~
Dry humid March
National mourning;
Heavy hearts
~~~~~~~~~
Gratitude speaks
Multi-racial tones;
Heat wave trials
~~~~~~~~~
Gun carriage cortège
Last journey route;
Crowds salute
~~~~~~~~~
Heavy rains fall
People brave downpour;
Final goodbyes
~~~~~~~~~
Public affection
Never seen before;
Singaporean grief
~~~~~~~~~
Six days of heatwave
Hellish hot and humid;
Seventh day torrent
~~~~~~~~~
What a great loss
A Singapore icon;
Stuff of legends
~~~~~~~~~
Old and young
All races here;
Braving the rain
~~~~~~~~~
Sea of faces
Shouting your name;
Astounding legacy
~~~~~~~~~
Mood of the moment
Loss feeds the strain;
Sky oozes tears
~~~~~~~~~
You cried for us in '65,
2015 we cry for you;
History shows
~~~~~~~~~
Huge debt owed
Our hearts know that;
Rainy salute squares
~~~~~~~~~
See the flags
The heartlands wave;
Broken hearts wail
~~~~~~~~~
History will write
We will remember;
Lasting legacy
~~~~~~~~~
Two names stand out:
Lee Kuan Yew lived
For Singapore
~~~~~~~~~
A people mourn,
In your passing;
We gel as one
~~~~~~~~~
Rest now in sure peace
Your work is done;
Singapore prospers
~~~~~~~~~
Sign a few words
Condolence Book filled;
Gratitude uplifts
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
29 March 2015
Singapore
Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2015
|