A Blessing

T
  e
    a
      r
         s
            f rom wisps of angels
              a
                l
                  l 
                     i
                        n
                           g

                        pattering a tell tale tattoo
                 onto the cruel curves of my open umbrella
                                 an echo as

                                     i
                     relish the i in sigh in silence
                         as people flow away, shy

                               and i shrink
                      from a stray canine's gaze
                       (its golden coat glazed)
               of having found one of its kind in its
                                 Eye.

The Blobbing Fish.
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A Fall

A fall
Fell for someone the other day
Wasn’t much fun, I must say.

 

Felt like missing a step from a flight of stairs
Leading to—
Nowhere.

 

Sole threading through thin air- Halt, Feet!
Tendons tense like the stretched string of a violin-

 

Gravity goes
Heart flutters
Done.

 

Walked on with a clam-like grin
As if something might begin.
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The Blobbing Fish.

Blank Page

Blank Page

This blank page

Yelled at me

So I broke its cage

And threw in words of misplaced keys

Like we did with the

Silence.

Stuffed it till its bulbous body burst

Sending shrapnel of letters, alphabets, words

Cartwheeling, saturating

Until the page was filled

And we stared at the ‘I’ at the windowsill.

The Blobbing Fish

Welcome Home

Written when I finally came back to Hong Kong after being abroad for a looooooong time. The shell-shock of coming home. 

A Welcome

 

Breaking the shell of the plane

Like a chick on chopstick legs

I join

The local queue

With xenophobic joy.

 

No landing card needed;

The sweetest decline

I ever gave seated.

 

The pulse of the city was different,

The metronome of traffic lights

Ticked their tango rhythm—

No more.

 

Virgin buildings

Lie

Infertile, unoccupied

Lightless like the dream

Of owning a basic home.

 

Whores haunt the streets

Like oyster shells discarded by

M&S cladded mannequins

Eating

in the nearby hotel.

 

Outside the hospital

Self styled queens on six inch heels stage

A tapping attack

On their iPads—

The sly foreshadow of Parkinson’s’

Disease.

Inside, a fetus nooses itself

on a cord, its own,

And lets flow

A rolling red carpet:      

Welcome Home. 

 

The Blobbing Fish

Hello :)

So this is my first post…

I started this blog as a result of the extreme boredom that usually accompanies a lazy summer, and hopefully I will be posting a steady stream of thoughts/rants/ and stuff that I wrote.

If you’re reading this, it’s probably because I’ve been buggering you to go on this blog on facebook or under gunpoint, but all the same, please  criticise and comment. And if by some weird twist of fate, you’re a person who doesn’t know me but has stumbled across this blog, I hope you like it and again, your opinion will be much appreciated 🙂

 

The Blobbing Fish.