Are you here to book a disappointment?: 2017

Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Origami

Trying to change out of my cynical strait jacket.

You and me

We’re origami.

Taking shape, fold by fold

Some fresh and fluid, some rigid and old.

Then a bird, now a star

Sometimes a humble boat, travelling miles afar

Fragile skin yearning for a touch of care

But still going strong, no matter the tears

Etched on our bodies, are impressions of our past

Alas, we’ll return to dust sooner than the rest;

God knows, beautiful things are never meant to last.

You and me.

We’re origami.

Sunday, August 20, 2017

Dug up a silly poem I wrote about five years ago. When I didn't take life too seriously - a lesson that 'older and wiser me' needs to constantly relearn. What's funny is that I didn't even have a job back then, yet I seemed to attach immense value to having one. Here goes -

I'm being held hostage
By my own
I wonder how he has the heart
It's probably made of stone.

His legs are strong and sturdy
But his back is soft like his belly
For years, he's barely moved an inch
Just plonked in front of the telly.

During nights when I was cold,
He warmed up like a microwave
We shared laughs, tears, secrets
One's we'd promise to take to our grave.

Yet, today I lay trapped
Between him and the ceiling
After all these years of apathy,
He's chosen NOW to feel a feeling?

Giving up, I dialled my boss
And you know what I said?
"Sorry, I won't be in today.
I've been kidnapped by my bed."