Secrets

As I walk in wide-eyed wonder, I explore the soot-filled nooks
Unravelling the secrets of life through untold stories
And every fragment of what was brought together
Makes me wonder what brought me to life
The blossoming sexuality, the natural boisterousness
And unfulfilled desires of every human being I meet
On their quest for happiness

Amidst moments of hurt, hate, and heal
While preserving their traditions
Under the onslaught of modernism
Triggers my opinions on personalities and characters
And like shockwaves of panic in a dystopian drama,
I discover the meaning of human nature
Its novelistic details, the filtered perspectives
The strictures of patriarchy and the struggles of matriarchy
It's like a comedy laced with cruelty between rain-soaked epiphanies
The comforting words, ingenuity, the barbed jokes
And the truest opinions from the boldest of souls
Souls that fight to stay alive, that march to stand their ground
Souls that gives witty commentaries
On love and loyalty, money and social classes
On races and religions, dilemmas and conundrums
And on my occasional slip into the realm of melodrama
I realise that life, with its mishaps, is just a practical magic
A drunk night of fries and margaritas
A middle finger protest and feminist treatise
An epic journey alongside a broody convict
And at times, an opportunity to sink
Into the psyche of a single-minded survivor
A singular vision and an individual suicide
But how true are they - these secrets of life?
And how perceptive are we with one secret after another?

-PRK-

Menanti Sekeping Hati

Seringkali aku mengeluh
Aku berbicara dengan sang bulan
Ingin aku sampaikan padamu kata-kata yang tak terucap

Tentang kehilangan, keinginan, segala yang rumit
Dan tentang likuan jalan yang aku tempuhi

Aku sentiasa terasa keseorangan
Terasa kosong dan sunyi
Walau dikelilingi yang tersayang
Cuma tanpa kamu

Kelibatmu tak pernah kelihatan
Aku pasti, kelak pasti ada
Satu waktu untuk kita berdua

Sekiranya kamu kembali, temuilah aku di sini
Di tebing, sentiasa menanti sekeping hati yang telah pergi

-PRK-

Flake Off, Quagmire

Needles pierced through my skin 

Attached to the machine

Entering the layers perhaps 1/16" of an inch

At approximately 10-15 needle drops per second

Fast enough to avoid puncturing my skin 

And causing bleeding 

And yet slow enough to avoid tearing it

It bled and wept a little

But it was a uniquely personal experience

They often ask if it's sore; if the pain is unspeakable 

That somehow got me thinking once - no, a few times

That if I'd cut myself, will I bleed black?

Like the ink used for my tattoos

But I don't blame them for asking such a question 

Fooled by horror stories, they're bound to think that it's excruciating 

Often I'd like to tell them that my body can take almost anything 

A cut, a burn, 10 tattoos, and counting 

My body can withstand different amounts of pain

No need for drugs that can thin the blood

No need for skin-numbing creams

Because it is in the mind that I control the sensation 

It is my mental strength that I can always hinge upon

But no matter how strong my mind is

Sometimes my heart fails 

Every time it got fooled, played and hurt

Only time can tell how long I'd have to heal the pain

Unlike the healing process of my tattoos  

It was never quite manageable

An open wound still

I don't know how a healed heart feels like

But... Flake off, Quagmire

-PRK-

Selfish Love

Not that I miss you and wish you were here
I miss the person you once were
The time when you said you've waited
And didn't mind waiting until I say yes

Not that I'm saying I wish you didn't change
Because I have learned that at times I have to be content
And that I need to change

But I know me and I know you
I know I have my lows and so do you
How do we compromise
That time I wish I knew
And there is no secret I was still stuck to you

Until you made the call and left
Until I realised you couldn't wait anymore
Until I learned that love is not selfish
But the one who love and longed to be loved is

But you're a memory that keeps me up some nights
That reminds me of unresolved conflicts that they talked about
A memory that gives me clarity of thought
A memory that is common to a woman

A woman who deserves love and understanding
Not rules and regulations
A woman who deserves romance and warmth
Not terms and conditions
A woman who believes that she deserves to be herself

-PRK-

Within The English Village

As I walk down the streets, wide and narrow streets, l often imagine them
Braving trashings, insults, death threats, batons, teargas, water cannons, the works
And with thousands of riot police trying to break up the protests and strikes
A force to be reckoned with, me, as part of them, hope to perhaps make history again
A history where behind the cloak of fear,  the gale of creative destruction would be unleashed
To be set free to put an end to the unrealistic demands, the catastrophic social implications and the political games of those from every sides of the divide

Of course in my mind, I'm very much controlled,
I'm very much prepared to rein in the masses against the authoritarian rules and religion
Ready for the straight journalistic report of the biting satire and classical literary themes
If not ever-ready to dance along to the euphoric political rallies 
But these are just my imaginations, my wish and hope to be the vanguard of change
And often I wonder, would it have meant a triumphant journey if I know what exactly am I defending, what exactly am I fighting for

Often I don't
Often I'm torn
Often all I see is a thin line instead of a silver lining
Often we all don't
Often we are still trying to comprehend what transpired the previous day's curiosity 
And often it's the biased ideologies
Within the English village
In which we are often bullied into submission, to keep mum
By the ruling elite and the flawed system

-PRK-

Weltschmerz

I've had my chapters before I met you
Chapters that were passionate in the beginning that ended with
"You love me until you don't."

One chapter died without closure; as if I was left at the altar
Years spent trying to understand the holy mess
Years wasted trying to weave and mend what's broken
Only to uncover later it never really matters
I was in agony

Chapter two then began just as hope was about to cease
But abruptly it ended with
"You're not very Christian for me."
Frankly I find that pathetic; it wasn't worth my tears
Though I went to bed after a few bottles of beer
I was in agony

Chapter three isn't worth mentioning
Pure lust on one end and it ended slowly with treachery
Then a 'modern romance' sparked
Lecherous, hostile, revolting, revengeful; I hated everything
I was in agony

The fourth chapter... It was a soap opera
The kisses scorched me
My body trembled every time he pulls me closer
Two hearts together, and I thought
"This probably is the beginning of my last chapter."
I was wrong and I thought
"Forever is over."
Again.. I was in agony

And here is a new chapter... Are we writing it together?
Or will I be the one pulling it together?
Once again be in agony?

-PRK-

She Found Peace

They told her,

"Breathe, and get your mind off it.
Sleep under the star, don’t let your mind lose it.
Accept imperfection, practice mindfulness.
Don’t sweat the small stuff, and live with no regrets."

And so she remained cool, remained calm and let them drool
Acted fooled when they claimed she’s under-ruled
Such depression made her lend a barf
Turned her head around, whispered,

"That's enough."

And so she took a bath by the candlelight
She meditated by the neon light
She let her feet take her towards the pink strobe light
Smiled when she saw those idiots slipped by the mountainside

And she thought,

"Oh, they were right. Be present in the moment, leave the past aside."

And so she found the good in all situations and laid on the grass
Embraced her freedom and held her head up with class

-PRK-

Theorem Unspoken

The poor are scrapping crumbs from the tables of the rich
Still struggling to afford rice, spice and tents to pitch
And the growing youth slowly dies in poverty
This, in the metropolis, is a permanent melody

It is not a landlocked country bordered by war
At least not bombs and guns and a bulletproof car
But moral decadence and perhaps policy diffusions
The fumbled communion and upsetting intrusions

And in this silence exist a loud shriek
Continuing to exacerbate until the last creek
Whitewashed, blinded and thrown into the labyrinth
And a decade of stagnation is not really a misprint

Perhaps a malefaction or a misperception
Between unspoken supremacy and a shivered weapon
But who would know what is wrong from right?

Who would have the will to watch what might?

Better yet, who would speak up and lead tonight?
To uphold the truth and once more write?

Or will we all scorn and lock jaws in fright?

Or sell our souls to the fore on sight?

-PRK-