These poems were written for and published by the Blue Fringe Art and Literature Festival. I am an aspiring writer.
Life as a Bonsai (2021)
Have I grown into a bonsai?
Or was I already, always one?
Small and compact,
trained and wired
into a specified shape,
mature beyond my years...
These all describe me, sure,
but do I want to stay forever stunted
or a mere miniature specimen?
I wish I can break out of my pot,
and branch up to the sky,
and burrow my roots deeper
into fertile earth.
I don’t want to be pruned again,
circumscribed
to within an inch of my life.
I may be the least voter
in the arboreal electorate,
but I still want to compete,
and I still feel quite complete.
So fare thee well
to my bonsai-status;
I must set forth towards freedom.
Better late than never.
Winter (2022)
My head is usually in the clouds
But the clouds are falling tonight,
Falling as snowflakes in the wind.
I examine my old buoyant refuge
As the white earth melts at dawn.
I am torn between the sky and land.
Thoughts airily think and sink,
The gap between sight and insight narrows,
Nothing seems that scary anymore.
I am used to flying like a metal plane,
Covered by rust and remotely controlled.
Yet this prolonged winter has cracked me.
Now I have moulted a feather: but it is ruffled.
Blemishing my streamlined trajectory,
Etching out what seems at first is a scribble.
The trees together muffle the sunlight,
And for a second I perceive a special pattern;
Hey, it is the language of letting go.
Rolling (2023)
You entered my life like a new car.
I heard you before I saw you,
your voice resonated like a purring engine.
When I saw you, everything shone:
your blue eyes were windows reflecting a cloudless sky.
You were gracious,
offering me an open passenger door.
Where do you want to go?
When you asked me this the first time,
I did not reply.
So, you powered up, and drove me into a forest.
The forest was as beautiful as a painting,
full of bird calls and fragrant wind.
You smiled at my joy, and I shyly smiled back.
The next time you asked me the same question,
I had already fallen in love.
Anywhere with you, I replied without hesitation.
One day you gave me the keys to your life,
and thus access to a magnificent machine.
A machine made for dreams and romance,
as renewable as starlight.
As you patiently teach me to drive,
we grow into a pair of parallel lines on an endless highway.
Content to never leave each other's side.
Why love? (2024)
Why do I always choose to love now?
It’s because of what I feel when I don’t choose love. I feel empty, depressed, anxious, desperate, and restless.
On the other hand, I feel alive when I choose love. I feel strong, happy, interesting, relaxed, optimistic, assertive, active and glad.
Why else do I choose love?
Because years of singlehood has taught me a lesson about love.
Though becoming responsible for the welfare of another life, being committed and bonded, is hard work, this burden is like the weight of a baby in a mother’s stomach. It is full of potential, heavy with possibilities. It is a new force. Love makes me extend beyond myself, and I become fluent in compassion and am forced to experience the creation of unexpected memories for sharing.
In contrast to love’s burden, the lesson of loneliness is a sad load to carry. It is like a black hole, dreadfully powerful and destructive.
For I am a social being, and I need the companionship of others. And what I can never achieve with my will alone is the magical moment when a total stranger falls in love with me. That must happen naturally. It is so much rarer.
So, to recap, whenever I face the question of why I should keep loving, I do a little thought experiment, which I shall outlined below.
1. I think of what happens when I choose or not choose love. The advantages usually outweigh the disadvantages.
2. I reflect on how my personal experiences seem to promote the virtues of love.
3. And finally, I examine the burden, that is, the various conditions of love…which I do realistically, without too much regret. And then I rationalise.
4. I rationalise that anything of value is valuable because it isn’t easy to get. So, this burden is the special part of love that I must accept. It is in fact an honour to be invited to join the privacy of someone else’s world.
I have come full circle in my analysis of love.
And I will again choose love.
Choice not chores (2025)
“Educated” they tell me I am, I should be,
but I am not functioning like normal.
Ability in my specialities I have retained,
but I cannot seem to keep any job that is formal.
Little things trigger me immensely,
and I see a world of meaning in a passing sign.
I am always wasting “precious” time,
trying to find out a pathway destined to be mine.
I give up! But NO! I cannot just give up,
my family and friends expect more than that.
I am supposed to be famous one day,
surely more than a woman trying to find a pet cat.
Right now, I diligently trudge up the daily hill,
alongside the dependable, dazzling sun.
I stay focused hard on self-control and,
paradoxically, the desire to have some fun.
If nothing drastic goes wrong by nighttime,
I smile in gratitude and am relieved.
It’s far better to let out my inner wild child,
than worry endlessly about how I am perceived.
So, my best advice to a younger self
Is to put myself first above everything else please.
Self-care in a variety of forms is mandatory,
therefore, I’m off to sit, drink tea and read in peace.