Ear wax was invented
by the brain – that clever chap!
As a barrier to absorbing
other people’s verbal crap.
Ear wax was invented
by the brain – that clever chap!
As a barrier to absorbing
other people’s verbal crap.
What’s wrong with my recorder?
No matter what I play
their words say “oh how lovely!”
But their expressions: “go away.”
God bless the man
who makes my ice cream.
God bless logistics
(chocolate from bean!)
God bless my brother
who is so fun to hit
God bless my allowance
(real and counterfeit)
God bless Gran’s amnesia
(two birthdays a year!)
God bless the bad guy
(my future career)
So they souffled his whites
and scrambled his yolk.
Humpty was served piping hot
with a side of artichoke.
There’s a chance I may be evil
(I’m testing the theory.)
The laugh in my head is now deep dark and baritone
instead of light and cheery.
Beachy cheeks
Dewy lips
Enough powder
for apocalypse
Pigmented lids
Smokey eyes
Back to lips
now glossified
Quick inspection
“Damn” I said
Wink to reflection
Now off to bed
After 7 years in Singapore my family and I are onto new adventures in Perth, WA. As a tribute here is my rendition of Singapore’s ABCs. This is a draft with notes for illustration.
A for Aww! An Oriole! (Who sings admist the green)
B for Bay, Sands that is, a cote de the Marine.
C for chicken rice
D for Dempsy twice (pic of both Demspy Hill and Demspy Road).
E for easylink
F for flower in a flower
G for gasp! Gecko that is! Darting up a tower!
H for hawker center (rating a-c)
I for ice cream uncle (1 dollar durian ice cream).
J for Jalan Kingru, Jalan Besar (which means street)
K for kaya, kopi O, K for kopi C.
L for la
M for monsoon
N for night shopping opportune (picture of pasar malam).
O for orchid blooming in garden botanic
P for people – Singapore – a true multi-cultured fabric.
Q for Qoo10
R for the one and only Raffles
S for Singlish (ok lah? every expatriate baffled).
T for Tanjong Beach Club, T for taste it from a wok
U for umbrella (picture of carrying umbrella in the sun)
V for….hmm, unsure (while you wait here’s a Macaque).
W for wet market
Y for you (Singaporean through and through)
Z for zzz (a blue eyed white Tiger dozing at the Zoo).
Before the talk taboo
1 plus 1 is 2.
After “the Birds and Bees”
1 plus 1 makes 3.
Have you ever thought
the crack of thunder
the babbling streams
the bobbling glaciers
aquamarine?
The Starling’s dance
spring anew
Have you ever thought
…it’s all for you?
There ain’t no Book of Life
at the Pearly Gates.
Instead, God sniffs your life potpourri
and (Bam!) He knows your fate.
You see, all your thoughts and actions
from the kind to oh-so-evil
dry into life potpourri
ready for Divine retrieval.
Angels flank him at His sides
(with espresso beans in hand),
cleansing his nasal palate
prevents a misreading of “bland!”
If God wrinkles his nose at your bowl
(or worse!) recoils in disgust:
your plans for everlasting bliss
perchance are a bit robust.
And if God should have a cold that day
and his olfactory sense is missing.
You’ll join the queue in Purgatory
till His nose has had some fixing.
His Saints potpourri is in His sock drawer.
His Angels in sachets.
His do-gooders are on His mantel.
His devotees by His ashtray.
If you wanna-wanna be it
take-a take-a look inside.
The courage and go-go-ness
already in you reside.
Instead of: “I can’t-ta, can’t-ta.”
Try: “I can-a, I will try!”
The pruning shears are in your hands,
life is your very own bonsai.
I’m the flagship store.
I’m the grand debut.
I’m the gasps, the clicks,
the points, the stares.
Did you know that I’m HQ?
I’m the reason for confetti.
The cheers, the “hip hip hoorays!”
I am the Honoree,
the Mother-ship,
the encore at the ballet.
I’m the ceremony.
The Laureate.
I take the cake.
In this little thing called life
did you know I raise the stakes?
Sucess-ini’s are small sucesses:
successes of the smallest.
Success-axi’s are on the bigger side:
successes of the tallest.
When your plug is pulled
and your life whirlpool starts a twirling,
just remember things can get much worse:
think of broccoli covered vermin!
My “to-do” list is overflowing
(some over-clocking is my hunch).
My but “to-done” list is empty as can be
so I’m off for lunch.
Your life’s not a chore.
Stop tallying score.
We all have a bull
who is chasing our cape.
We’ve all missed the mark
when flipping our crepe.
Just hold your head high
and walk with some swagger.
Tickle your pain
and you’ll surely get laughter.
Beat in hearts.
Gestate baby.
Hatch a chick.
Bloom a daisy.
Orbit Earth.
Whisper through fear:
“Courage, you.
I’m always here.”
Tickle conscience.
Spark “Eureka!”
Let it happen
(free will + tequila).
Design snowflake.
Intuit life mission.
What else?
Spontaneous remission.
There was once a little girl
named a-b-c-d-e-f-g-h-i-j-k-l-m-n-o-p-q-r-s-t-u-v-w-x-y-zed.
No one could pronounce her name
so they’d spell it out instead.
Poor little a-b-c-d-e-f-g-h-i-j-k-l-m-n-o-p-q-r-s-t-u-v-w-x-y-zed
(let’s call her Alphabeta).
Her twenty six lettered name
proved to be an alpha-dilemma!
At school her teacher would call on her
(a task rife with verbal indigestion).
By the time she’d finished she would think:
“now just what was my original question!?”
As she grew (just like her name)
Alphabeta would still point & answer with description.
Insightful commentary it was indeed
for anyone who’d listen.
Pointing to her Aunt Maybelline:
“heart, lungs, liver & spleen”
Pointing to a cake at the baker’s counter:
“egg, vanilla, sugar, & a bit of flour.
Poor little Alphabeta
became quite the subject of town gossip.
“Did you hear what she said to Father Jon?
“Toupee & init for a profit!”
There’s a machine in my stomach
with buttons “burp” and “giggle.”
One is activated by a fizzy drink,
the other by a tickle.