The Muruku Murmurations

"Today, I challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a family portrait. You could write, for example, a stanza for each member of your family. You could also find an actual snapshot of your family and write a poem about it, spending a little bit of time on each person in the picture. You don’t need to observe any particular form or meter ." Tau Miu Sigma, That is our insignia, We may not be a sorority, But we are each other's priority. We are made of three entities, Exhibit A is the aunty of random atrocities, Secondly is our feisty Hak-ayu fire power, And lastly our resident jiwang of the hour. This one is for Sheril! The one who dares to take on any peril, She has perfected the resting b*tch face, Strong minded about issues of gender and race. We have been friends for a while, She has seen me through my many trials, Tolerant when I put on my disappearing acts, Her intentions are true and overlooks our defects. This one is for J

"Today, I challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a family portrait. You could write, for example, a stanza for each member of your family. You could also find an actual snapshot of your family and write a poem about it, spending a little bit of time on each person in the picture. You don’t need to observe any particular form or meter." A family of five,  No matter what life throws at them, they'll survive, They are not a perfect family, But they've got each other's back, thankfully. Though life has not gone as planned, Every time he falls, he still tries to  stand, Though he may not show it everyday, He shows his love is various ways. The glue that holds the family together, No matter whatever the weather, There's not a thing this woman cannot do, She'll do it with a smile too. He's got the weight of the world on his shoulders, But he will not quit until it's over, Described as silent and strong He is always the

"Today, I challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a family portrait. You could write, for example, a stanza for each member of your family. You could also find an actual snapshot of your family and write a poem about it, spending a little bit of time on each person in the picture. You don’t need to observe any particular form or meter." "Do not smile so much!" My mother's voice cuts crisp across the flash, As her eyes quickly dart a warning at me. From the corner of my eye I see her, And quickly drop the dopey grin on my face. I am 11 years old and in a pretty frock, Butterfly clips in my long black hair, As I am poised on the arm of a big chair, Like a prop. I slouch over, sweltering under the 650 lights, And am immediately prodded at the side, To straighten up and "sit tall", By a singular manicured nail painted blood red. My father resides in the big chair, Already disinterested before it has even begun, In his cr

This is based on a conversation we had with our 'Surrogate Friend', Wolf. It was a theory about how we have a set amount of happiness allocated to our lives and it is placed on a ruler called life, once the happiness runs out, maybe it's time life ends. From the beginning of humanity, Were humans made to be toys? Conceived and prized by the Almighty, Creations for Him to enjoy. Made with a life line by metres, This body wasn't made to last eternity, A ruler determined by the Ruler, The end will soon arrive eventually. To each was given a portion of happiness, Like glittery, magical, shimmering pixie dust, Bottled carefully with glee and gladness, And then given to angels to entrust. For certain individual's it was spread evenly, Others will be scattered in inconsistent piles, For a few it's mounted high all too early, What remains at the end are bottled smiles. Angels are watching our ways, Shifting the dust as need

Looney Tunes was a big part of my childhood. I remember sitting in front of the tv and watching it wide eyed and with a huge grin. They don't make cartoons like they used too anymore.  I sit and wait patiently Then it begins That familiar tune starts playing                                                     My face instantly lights up, I sing along, I have the tune memorized.     They have me laughing throughout, The Looney Tunes, A big part of my childhood.       One of my favourite cartoons, A timeless classic, Guaranteed to make you smile.  - JN 8.15pm, 26/5/2016 (Thursday) Home, Kelana Jaya

seorang penyajak mampu memberi nyawa kepada setiap apa yang dilihatnya hanya dengan menggunakan ayat dan kata-kata namun mengapa tetap hatinya kadangkali mati dibunuh perasaan sendiri? “kerana penyajak cuma manusia. Dia bukan Tuhan...” - Jack 

Was trying to write something in lieu with a #NaPoWriMo prompt about doubles, and this is what I came up with. I just realized I need to stop writing seemingly tragic love poems & diversify into other things, so here's hoping this is the last of it. :)  There is no winning with you, Whatever happens I always lose. I get lost in the corners of your smile, And I lose when you stay away from me awhile. There is no benefit of having you here, Yet I constantly crave to have you near. I write lines of poetry for you, And listen to melodies you sing along to. It makes no difference to you if I live or die, But when you are silent I constantly wonder why. There is no winning with you, Whatever happens I always lose. - SB 1.15am, 16th April 2016 Ghetto HQ

NaPoWriMo  Challenge Prompt   Week 1: Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of  English-language  haiku. While the haiku is a  three-line  poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a  three-line  poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on  word-count , instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again. Either kind will do, and you can write a  one-lune  poem, or write a poem consisting of multiple stanzas of lunes. I become a wolf, A werewolf, When the moon is full. They call me Moony, My best friends, They know I'm not crazy. The ones who know me. They protect me. They do not judge me. I will always be Moony, No matter what, It's what makes me, me.  - JN 11.15am, 24/5/2016 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

NaPoWriMo  Challenge Prompt   Week 1: Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of  English-language  haiku. While the haiku is a  three-line  poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a  three-line  poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on  word-count , instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again. Either kind will do, and you can write a  one-lune  poem, or write a poem consisting of multiple stanzas of lunes. I just want to sleep,  In my bed,  Without a worry. I want to wake up,  Whenever,  And then roll around. I don't want to think,  About work,  Or other people.  I am too tired,  And I need,  To just go sleep now. - SB 1.33am, 24th May 2016 Kiara View Condo

NaPoWriMo Challenge Prompt Week 1: Today, I challenge you to write a lune. This is a sort of English-language haiku. While the haiku is a three-line poem with a 5-7-5 syllable count, the lune is a three-line poem with a 5-3-5 syllable count. There’s also a variant based on word-count , instead of syllable count, where the poem still has three lines, but the first line has five words, the second line has three words, and the third line has five words again. Either kind will do, and you can write a one-lune poem, or write a poem consisting of multiple stanzas of lunes. Take me on a trip, Some place far, Do not tell a soul. If you go alone, Go smiling, With me in your heart. Write me letters too, Of your life, On old brown paper. I will keep them all, In my heart, Your permanent home.  - SY 15:07H 23rd May 2016 Masjid Jamek

Revisiting the things that made me who I am this month. A lot of the past has made me who I am today and in a sense defined me. A revelation and experience with God's love was a game changer and that goes with out saying. There was once a time I was at the edge, I stood there at life's ledge, In every direction that I turn, I saw all the bridges I needed to burn. Then I saw the love of the Lord, He spent all that He could afford, He erased every sin in my record, Just when I thought I would jump overboard. Because of Him, I can stand tall, Faithfully He picks me up when I fall, Every day I want to give Him my all, Just to be able to answer His call. His love is everything to me and you, I'll have His love in mind in everything I do, His love is true, I'll let it be so, Where He goes, there I will go. - SY 25th October 2011 Karl Marx 15, Kursk, Russia

I know it's not going to be all rainbows, sunshine and butterflies but this is what I envision for everyone. Starting and ending your day with someone you love.  Sunrise, Waking up in your arms is pretty nice, My heart melts as your eyes meet mine and you smile, We lay in bed, only for a while. You get up to start your day, You look at my face and get back into bed, On your chest I rest my head, "Only five more minutes" you laugh and say. You call me at lunch even if it's just to say "hey" It's what helps me get through the day, It has become habitual, We call it our lunch time ritual. Sunset, We sit at the patio with cups of tea, I listen to you talk about our future with such certainty, This is as good as it gets. We have dinner for two, Just me and you, You tell me about your day, I wouldn't have things any other way. We lay in bed, I drift off to sleep You kiss my forehead. I have never felt more complete,  - J

It has literally taken me years to perfect this piece. Though, i wonder if it will ever truly be perfect.  Nonetheless, it's here. And it's done.  It speaks about a loss. A living loss so large, it left a gaping hole in my thoughts, heart and memory. A loss, that even until today, I still mourn for. Here’s the thing. Death is all around us. Living things die everyday, big and small. Our skin cells die and turn into dust, which accumulates at the corner of the room... or on that shelf you could never reach, and once in a while, we decide to sweep it up and throw it out. But until then, it remains forgotten. Ignored. Our hair and nails are made up of dead cells  but we style our hair and paint our nails, making sure it’s pretty and we keep up with trends, masking the death that had to occur in order to allow this version of beauty, to take form. When we speak, when we breathe, when we touch, a minuscule death occurs. It’s how significant the death is… it&

Some people think flirting over text is an art. Some think it's a game of strategy. For me it's a default disinterest. And this is why.  I will smile when your name flashes with a text, And send you those colon p emojis to seem cute, And ask you how your day is, And shrug indifferently when you forget to reply, Because I know this is as good as it gets, And that there isn't a person in this world who can love all that I am. - SB 10.34pm, 11th April 2016 Ghetto HQ

Even as I was writing this, the memories came flooding back. Not a day goes by that we don't think of you, cousin. Gone too soon indeed.  The life of the party, Lighting up the room with remarks both witty and snarky. You made everybody laugh, That was also your way of coping when things were tough. Family gatherings are not the same, Without you there doing or saying something insane, Not a day goes by where we don't miss you, And all the silly things you used to do.   Sometimes I'd find myself saying something and then I'd pause, Waiting for you to give me one of your witty replies,     It catches me by surprise, Its then that it hits me that you're gone. Memories of you are aplenty, They often come back to remind me, They make me smile, Even if only just for a while. What is it like where you are? Is it everything you've dreamed of so far? It's beautiful, isn't it? I wish you could tell me about it, even just a little bit. A

For my last letter, I dedicate this to my maternal grandmother, my por-por . I had written something for my other late grandparents who passed on this  year. It's been about 2 years and I still miss her and the sweet memories she left for me. There are some Malay and Hokkien words in this one. In a little taman (garden) called Air Itam , Slightly quiet since it had lost it's charm, A boisterous, charismatic lady with beauty like Hang Li Po , It's been two years since we said goodbye to my por -por . She was ever so popular, Among the Pulau Tikus marketeers, Mdm Oon Swee Choo's daily routine, Making friends, chit-chatting and bargaining. She loved all her grandchildren, Our quirks and conversations kept her vibrant, Each one had a special place in her heart, She wanted to see all of us before she had to part. Sheeyen, mah zhai ai ki ban san ? (Swit Yen, do you want to go to the market tomorrow?) I would say yes and try to sleep by one,

My godfather & I were very close when I was growing up. Diagnosed with lung cancer, he fought it for a good ten years, before succumbing to pneumonia in 2009. There's so much of me that is actually much of him, and I miss him every day. So this is to you Dee, whom I will never stop missing or writing for.   By the powers that be, I would freeze the sun & drain the sea, Just so you could be in front of me, For me to say "Hey, Dee." So many years since you didn't stay, But when I think about you it always feels like just yesterday, So many things you had yet to say, I always feel like you were taken away. Secretly I still don't know what I'm doing, Life without you has been turbulent and harrowing, There is no depth to the sorrow I will always be feeling, Although over time there has been some minimal healing. You would not be proud I do not think, Of how I have pushed myself to the brink, Trying always to hold on and not sink, By th

Both in a literal and metaphorical sense of the phrase. This comes from watching too much ' Rizzoli and Isles ' . Good stuff but maybe not right before bed. Please tell me she didn't, Say it isn't so, It's a question of she wouldn't, Say no to this John Doe. A tear jerker moment, Seeps in to the silence, Leave behind remnants, Inexistent romance. Trail away in disappointment, Slowly dying inside, Inches of resentment, In his heart resides. Point blank range, She pulls the release, The trigger set before that mange, Just don't do it please. Her heart races, His beady eye glances, She turns away and paces, He still had a chance. She turns around, Shoots him down, In an alley underground, In the darkest part of town. She inhales the fresh kill, Reality suddenly hits, She stands still, And laughs in cynical wit. - SY 18:40H 22nd March 2016 Jalan 222 SY is a 'Jacqueline of all trades'

I have my own demons that I fight everyday. It is not easy but I will not give up. I refuse to sink when I can swim.  It's been a long day, My mind has gone astray, I just want to hide away, The demons have come out to play. They put me in restraints, For they claim I am insane, They don't know what goes on in my head, Most days I wish I was dead. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, Is there something wrong with me? I'm losing my mind with every tiny error, Am I going crazy? It's a constant battle, Sometimes I feel like things are never going to get better, But I will break out of these shackles, I am greater than this matter. I sometimes lose grip on reality, But I will not let this take over me, This battle I will fight, With my residual strength and might. I owe it to myself, To get up and try even when I'm feeling overwhelmed, I will not give in to the monsters in my head, When I'm done, they'll wish they were dead inste

There was one night, On the ashes, on his knees, a knight, His head rested on the hilt of his sword, Prayer was only his word, Darkness came, the night engulfed, The reaper arrived, the pain dissolved, He raised his scythe, Ready make his swing with his might, For a distance rushed out came a guardian, His arms carved with a crest of a lion, Charging at the speed of light, His presence brighten the night, He rushed- fast he came, His fists reached out- the scythe he held, He yelled, "NOT NOW!", at the reaper, he proclaimed, He yelled "NOT YETT", the scythe he mightily held, The Guardian looked, By his voice the knight shook, The Guardian spoke, "This is not the end", in tears the knight broke, The Guardian knew, the knight's heart was broken, He mended the heart, made it stronger made it unshaken, The Guardian pushed the Reaper back, Threw away the scythe like a sack, The Reaper knew his time has past, In this battle it ha

My first ever Trinita! I've always been very bad at mathematics, but apparently I can do it when it is in poetry. :D When your attention you add, And the cold air you subtract, I feel my affections multiply. But when outer noises multiply, With the unwelcome distractions they add, Your patience it will subtract. Unknowingly my openness I subtract, And my defenses slowly multiply, The mortar to the bricks you add. When will you see that you can add, subtract & multiply varying formulas but you can never equate my love & devotion? - SB 11.30pm, 7th April 2016 Ghetto HQ

Although we don't see each other as often as we want to, this bond grows stronger day by day. Here's to the three of you, the ones who'd be crazy with me any day.  We grew up together, Stood up for each other, Thank you for tolerating me even when you think I'm being silly, Thank you for being you, Issybelly. Here's to you, Perasanne, Thank you for always being a great friend, Although we don't see each other that often, I still think you're pretty awesome. Lemon, this one is for you,   The one I'll go to when I need to sue, You always make me laugh, Most of the time with your witty and sarcastic remarks, Friends since birth, Not by choice but by blood, Ok la, you guys are pretty cool, Given a choice I still would choose you, I love how much this bond has grown, Even as we venture into the unknown, I love how we can be real with each other, This bond is forever.  - JN 10.25am, 10/5/2016 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

This one was too easy. It is for my dysfunctional (sort of) best friend who lives in the land down under (and refuses to come back, useless fler), who for the longest time was the person to drive me around and who spent most of his youth and mine just being annoying. Yet somehow our friendship still worked.   Soup dumplings, Pasta nights, Movies with salted popcorn, And karaoke. Navigating, Your driving, While rushing, And tapaoing. Full dress rehearsals, That you forget to tell me about, And planning your schedule, Because me you could not go without. It was a different world then, Almost a different life, Jalan Ipoh seemed quite far away, So many turns and traffic lights. Between the jesty insults & eye rolling exchanges, We actually formed a pretty good team, So a contract we signed for a short stint of time, Though our friendship runs beyond clauses and dreams. We barely speak or even meet for tea, It is impossible given the circumstances that be,

This letter is dedicated to Aby Waby who has been with me through my time in Russia. Part of this was taken from the poem I wrote for her wedding day. To my soul sister from another mother, prayer partner and life discoverer, with love Schweet . Beyond the mountain ranges, Across the South China Sea, Nothing really changes, There you are, where you be. I met you about a decade ago, Time sure does fly by, We were distant souls, Though close by proximity. As the Years passed in Russia, We became the mismatch dynamic duo, I got to know you from East Malaysia, And was part of the Patchtovaya Quattro. I was thankful to be part of your cell group, Meaningful exchanges during ladies fellowship, Then made my way into your dance troupe, Weekly meet up I wouldn't miss or skip. We cooked, we danced, We laughed, we cried, We spent time in prayer We also praised God together. We had our adventures, Went through many endeavours, In the end we became do

Comic books have been a big part of my life. My current obsession is none other than Marvel's Deadpool. The movie was utterly enjoyable and I was blown away by all the fun the screenwriters had. Disclaimer: All characters and references to the movie belongs to MARVEL and FOX studios. His silhouette stands in the light, Body suit crisp, compact and tight, The curvy edges that matches so right, Breaking the silence then he is out of sight. Bullet holes and cuts heal the same, But this heart break, only Ajax is to blame, It just takes a little time, rest and Bactin, Maybe some therapeutic time with the the Kullen . Red is definitely his colour, Stitched perfectly in the lines of the rich Corinthian leather, Passion that goes well with his humour, A vigilante who gets his jobs at the parlour. Decapitations and amputations are abundant, As his search for Francis goes rampant, Breaking the fourth wall happens ever so often, Good thing is his jokes never go

Dedicated to all mothers. Mother's by blood, Godmothers, mothers by adoption, petmoms , babysitters, motherly figures, expecting mothers and the list goes on. Thank you! From the moment I was conceived, You were invested, To a life long duty of love and sacrifice. Thank you for being my mother, The one person who has been steadfast, By my side through whatever. I have caused you pain, Brought you disappointment, You didn't take it to heart. You took every apology, Gave me forgiveness, Taught me to never give up hope. Thank you for being my source of joy, Making me your priority, My pillar of strength to stay alive. - SY 19:54H 8th May 2016 Pagoh

Brushing up on my tritina writing so I decided to write about me, you and poetry. The hopeless romantic is back (sort of, kind of, maybe)! I could write all the love stories about you, But that wouldn't depict what you mean to me, Not even if I wrote you in my poetry. You make me as happy as really jiwang poetry, Like the ones I read to you, You complete me. You don't know how happy you make me, Maybe one day I'd tell you with my poetry, Until then I'll just have to show you. Me and you, we're as perfect as perfectly rhymed poetry.  - JN 6.25pm, 5/5/2016 (Thursday) Home, Kelana Jaya

May is Mental Health Awareness Month in America.  Here is a piece to give you a glimpse of what it is like to go through it and and to be someone's support. Find out more on Mental Health  here .  Source: Google When stricken with this disability, Simple composure I cannot maintain, Functioning on minimal capacity, Every day becomes a torturous strain. My body and mind reacts differently, Most times beyond my control, I feel I have lost my sanity completely, "Stop it!" Many times this I am told. Not everyone can accept it, People filled with ignorance and disregard, Generally they just shrug it, They don't hear it from the start. Soon after, I leave and let go, Close my eyes and free fall into oblivion, Into the unknown, There is no turning back. Some times I get found, Otherwise, I stay lost and disappear, Hidden behind walls or underground, Never to resurface or

My favourite thing to do at Wednesday Night Blues is watch my girl friends dance. Most times, I get to observe their interactions with other people as well. Here's to their cute butts & cheekbones, that give them such joy in their lives. :P  The dance floor buzzes with exhilaration, That has nothing to do with the dance. As people sway & leap in rhythm, Other stake out for a chance. There they are, the two young lads, With parts sculpted by the Greek Gods themselves. Cheekbones to cut glass and a butt so cute & fluffy, They wear their handsomeness so well. They smirk & they smile as you both play coy, There is as much conversation as there is movement and dips. Your internal swooning radiates in your smile, You both look like you could do backflips. So more navigation of the dance floor there is, And more conversation to stimulate your minds. At the end of the night we head home giddy, Counting down the minutes to the next time. - SB 6.11p

This piece is another letter written to myself, the self that I once knew has long disappeared into the trap called life and swallowed by the handicap called anxiety. Coming to terms with these limitations and losing the pride that I once knew was a process I needed to go through in order to be able to start again. There you are in a stance of pride, Head held high with a shoulder to confide. Always on the right hand, That is where you stand. Strength and dependency was your uniform, Ready for anything to further the kingdom, Known for your resourcefulness, Nothing would break this fortress. Pleasantries were not your cup of tea, Preparation proceeds the worth of beauty, In the multitude of greatness, You were one of the relentless. Thread through swamp and fogs, You were always the underdog, The one to calm the hurricanes, Turn chaos into something sane. Working at the speed of a hummingbird's wings, Checklists dismantled without griping, Execut

It took me awhile to realize that I'm not the girl I used to be. So much has happened that it has changed me, for the better or worse, I don't know. I wrote to the person I used to be as she is the person I miss the most.   Carefree, Happy go lucky, She's got the weight of the world on her shoulders? That never bothered her. The Queen of Happyland was your nickname, It didn't matter that people thought you were insane, Happiness was a state of mind, Even when people were unkind. So much has changed, Grumps is now your nickname, Sometimes they even call you the Dragon Lady, Lil' Miss Sunshine has been buried. I miss you, little girl, The one who saw the best in the world, Wide eyed and eager to take on the unknown, Little girl, where did you go? We've come a long way from where we began, Things have never been more different, The person I miss the most is you, The one who smiled no matter what she was going through.  - JN 9.52am,

Some weeks it is a challenge to just think about a person to write to, but this was unfortunately way too easy. It took me some weeks to consolidate that yes indeed, this person was the person I missed the most, so here it is. I have tried to put this off & not write this, I have even denied that it is you I miss, But at this hour 50 minutes into two, I disgruntledly admit the person I miss the most is you. It is amazing how much a heart can ache, And how many hours a person can stay awake, Replaying in one's mind all the minor details, Riding on a soul train that desperately needs to derail. I miss your smile that lights up your eyes, And the way your body convulses when you chuckle, I miss how when I'm with you time flies, And how we never get into a scuffle. I miss your stupid colon closing bracket emoji, That sometimes supercedes my name when you text, I miss the unsuspecting jokes that were usually weak, But still earned a small smile escaping from the corner near m

A piece I wrote back when I was in Kursk, a time when I was on my own to find out what makes me, 'me'. Here is one of those times, When words can only be expressed through rhyme, A passion for all things rhythmic, An attraction to all things seismic. To know me is to see me, See me as all I can be, Some one full of joy and glee, Hope and faith as far as the eye can see. A life filled with dreams and fantasy, Letting the Light show me clarity, A taste of everything is what I fancy, Making the most of this life called reality. -SY Kursk