In the cramped font room we’d sit and stare
At the telly on the blink needing care.
With a slap on its head,
While the cussing instead
Was more entertaining than the fair.
I miss the tick-tock heartbeat, the chiming in the hall.
Watching the slow clock hands glide shadows on the wall.
The seconds hand circling, its clicks beating a song,
Time was something you watched; it carried you along.
I miss the clatter of typewriters, banging on their keys,
Whir of tape spools whining, vinyl discs spinning to please.
The flip calendar flopping forward, page after page,
When time was a living thing, not digits in a cage.
Now silence haunts the corners where ticking used to sing,
Digital screens of numbers flash cold, as unfeeling thing.
Yet I miss the winding, waiting, watching for the flow.
The rhythm, sounds, vision, and movement of times long ago.
on parallel shore
I wander where waves caress
no footprints online
only brine, rock, and seabirds
to echo that I'm present
screens flare like lures do
hooking the curious in—
I keep eyes blinkered
knowing one slip starts the plunge
into hours I cannot spare
my life is fragile
ink seeps slowly into grain
behind the latched gates
I paint in colours unseen
where regret can't get a breach
no mast light for me
no beacon on shoreline gleams-
I sail without charts
my course drawn by phantom steeds
into the void in your world
I burn my candle
past the eyes that never blink
past networks alight—
your grid can't trap my shadow
your feed can't name what I am
I live analogue
unseen on parallel lines
that starves intruders
wanting to click, like and feed
on clocks that don't keep your time
no mast light for me
no beacon on the shoreline—
I sail without charts
my course drawn by unseen stars
in the space between your worlds
Love come quietly,
Finally, drops
About me, on me
in the old ways
What did I know
Thinking myself
Able to go
Alone all the way
[HOW JIA HUI - SERI JUBLI INTERNATIONAL SCHOOL MALAYSIA]
The idea I know is your own;
She’s your soul, and she’s your own,
But she dwells now in a different hall
Wearing willfully a different form.
Mind! you still own your dear soul;
Place, year of birth and your name
Visibly will hail you in the hall
My words and structure shall form.
If I feel too ghostly is your soul,
She should sit outside of my hall
And guards will attend to her call,
And passers-by know she’s your soul.
Why you call me tonight by that sweet name?
That name is very personal to me.
You've broken relation; you made me free.
Can't forget pain you gave, don't want to blame.
That phase of suffering was mine, great shame.
Those days' memory brings tears; seen your glee.
What my heart wished, it couldn't get, let it be.
'Twas reality, I was bound to accept.
Don't call me; I've stopped, for long I did wept.
You remained selfish, didn't think for my fame
I will remain with my fate; I can't be
contented, memories won't make me free.
Showing love to me was only a game
for you, but believed it true; I'm not same
person. I'll not be bothered with your plea.
Realized illusions; life has taught me.
Can't forget, your insensate acts did threat
Enough is enough, don't want to regret.
~x~x~