The Muruku Murmurations

This is a collaboration piece written by myself and the talented Amanda Danker from Team DemiGods for the 'Postcards for Mount Olympus' event on 18th December 2016 . This piece was inspired by our opposing states of who were are and what we are expected to be age wise. Ever wondered what it is like to be, To be your actual self without inhibition Without inhibition by society and your community, Your community that is of a certain age and type. Childish (adj) Immature. Growing old is mandatory but growing up is optional. There is no reward for: Tantrums and unrealistic demands Impatience and selfishness. Most people still live their lives in jungle gym politics, cafeteria cliques and hierarchy of expensive toys. Mature (noun) Fully developed physically. I have not been the fastest bloomer, height wise but I am an old soul. They tell me if I am small, others will come to my aid, will pick me up with their wings and worries. Like a child I wil

Life does not come with instruction manuals but as we go through Life , we learn lessons and keep progressing to move forward and upward. May we continue to have hope and believe in ourselves to build a better tomorrow. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! A young man once said, "Be the change you want to be." "See things beyond what is before your eyes." "Diminish in yourself so that you may increase." "Even the smallest effort leads to big effects." After today, everything will change Genetics are your predisposition Hereditary traits are unchangeable but I know you can go beyond that. Jaded hearts and careless minds Caving into our weaknesses Elevate your spirits Empty your tank Envy no one Own your future. Pen down your every thought Queue your favourite things on your list Are you ready to start living again? As alive as the first breath you took as a child Tip the scale of nothingness You have the potenti

I. You asked me when my God had died, I said, "Why, on the day of Atonement." Yet we both knew, that deeper still, the question lay unanswered. You asked me when my God did rise, I said, "Why, three days after Calvary." The answer came as winsome as those Sunday mornings I did not go to church. You asked me who my God had saved, I said, "Why, sinners all around us." Straight in your eye I looked, but saw no damnation there. You asked me when my God had come, "Why, Christmas Day - but you knew that." When would He come? "No date is set." Will I be there? "I do not know." Will you be there? "I dare not go." II. You asked me when my God had died, I should have said, "Why, when I lied Lied that I believed in Him, While in my heart I knew not Him." You asked me when my God did rise, I should have said, "I must admit, Admit that though

Faithfulness is maintaining the trust that we have built and keeping it strong no matter what gets in the way. It is what keeps the momentum going and the depth of the relationship growing. L oyalty is to put you as my priority O ne and only one to fulfill me Y ou and I will build a life that is solid A way from you I will not stray L ive by your side even when you are invalid T rust in you whole-heartedly, Y ou will be my net of security. - SY 02:44H 23rd October 2016 Jalan Pahang SY is a 'Jacqueline of all trades' who loves wearing plaids. She doesn't believe in things that fade and fulfills the promises that she made. She seeks the hearts of the troubled, to be a listener in times when things are doubled. She's the kind who stands in the gap, who will only call it quits when it's a wrap.

Mama Lia #evilauntylia challenged us to write on food that we do not like. As for me, I am usually not picky but the one thing I would not crave, is 'chendol'. This is dedicated to those who do enjoy this sweet delight. Along the alleys of Keng Kwee Street, Where tourists flock to beat the heat, Resides a bustling hawker stall, Serving a local delicacy called ' chendol' . Rows of people queuing messily, Calling out for the attention of the aunty, For bowls of chilled, sweet simplicity, To have by the roadside in all its glory. Cubes of ice floating buoyantly, Cooling down the white silky sea, Green slippery strings swimming about, Springy and sliding in and out. The bowl is dressed like an icy dream, Lined with satin white coconut cream, Stitched with threads of gelatinous goodness, Stained of rich brown sugary sweetness. - SY 23:36H 17th October 2016 Mt. Olympus HQ

December is here and that only means one thing: Winter is coming. On my way back from Singapore, it was drizzling slightly and I was reminded of the harsh winters we used to have in Kursk, Russia. Recently in Mama Lia's class, we were given the assignment of describing weather. This is my attempt at putting that exercise in to good use. Hello white, whimsical Winter, Temperature drops degrees lower, Winds are churning drastically stronger, The air is crisp, brittle and colder. Snowflakes fall like delicate feathers, Refracting light effortlessly like shimmering glitter, Bedazzled are the surfaces as blankets of soft clouds of snow pile upon each other. Your days are getting much shorter, Sunlight diminishing and weaker Disseminating through the gloomy, bruiting weather. Your chilling nights grow darker, Like an endless charcoal covered canvas spackled with flickering flames of lighters, Stars slowly losing their glimmer. Ice spikes form like giant spli

On the 25th of October  Larry Yap  posted a status that had a nice ring to it. So, I decided to reply with a rhyme and one line led to another. When the day was over, we had a really cool collaboration between  #Simple Words  and the Muruku Murmurations. This collaboration was performed at ' If Walls Could Talk Open Mic ' on the 5th of November 2016. You can watch the  recap  of our performance and read the original post  here . Some slight edits were made as we practiced. I am truly thankful, blessed and honoured to have this experience; writing and performing with such a humble and talented person. The little, the frail and the fickle, The brittle nail start to tickle. The skin resists but tingles Tiny electric shocks mingle, As sweat droplets trickle. Fragile, docile nerve endings unsettle, all at once unravel, as instinct triggers giggles. Composure now rattled Control has become a battle. Ghostly pleasure fights the urge to put up a struggle Urg