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It didn’t matter
whether dark at night or broad daylight Their filthy palms touched ours Our pride was bent Their sharp blades cut our hearts and souls What’s left of us shards of a woman’s dignity we no longer keep much
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i can feel your untouchable gift
it’s dancing in your aurora but it remains unconsumed open up yourself reach across share it unrelentlessly you’ll never regret the response Humble silver branches Set foot on foreign yellow soil Endured stormy weather Seedlings sprung into flowers  rise on the paper
sharpen your blunt pen fight for your belief the shield of skilful writing will always keep you from a fading end rag-wrapped harvest
cloud holding a feast alchemy in the sphere of magic a lie of myth  In the nest upon a pedestal
You nurse me, nurture me Show me a colourful world Give me a vibrant life Protect me among greens Help me to discover who I am It’s only love that can make this happen  Behind the upright blooming bright Stood a purple shield protecting the beauty inside All held up by a balanced three footings Magnificence amid loveliness An assembly of saints and angels
Jesus among God behind screen Satan in hell below Sinners suffer All packed in the picture There she stood, Felicity,
at the corner in one wintry evening wearing a short skirt and a sexy top. She could feel the chill and could do with a warm bed and hot soup but she had to stay and endure – she needed bread and necessities for her boy and herself. Felicity – a name she detested, why provide felicity for others and not herself? She could not figure it out. Cars passed by, men walked in the streets, some looked at her but none offered to deal business. It’s going to be one of those nights again. Head down, she left. What could a bird do without wings?
What could a man do when disabled? A disabled bird may not be able to survive in a jungle but a disabled man can turn his weakness into strength and comes out as a winner. He can be even better than any other. |
AuthorI started late to become a writer, after I graduated from the University of Auckland at the age of 57. It all began when one of my articles was first published in Muse, a magazine in Hong Kong. I just finished my first novel Tree which is about Chinese immigrants here in New Zealand. Being bipolar it hasn't been easy but I'm proud to have broken the vicious cycle and begin to enjoy life. I'm glad to have survived to this age and be able to live a most fulfilling life. Categories |
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