The Muruku Murmurations

Taking a break from all the deperessive poetry and trying to be okay and happy, I forced myself to write something fun. I think this came from a random conversation I had in Purgatory with one of my housemates about food. Learning to love is like a Ditto turning to Jell-O in the midst of being moulded by the flavours of endeavours and adventures, fun times perfect for every celebration.  Figuring out preferences of combinations like the dislike of pineapples on pizza, trivial pairing of olives with cheese, and French fries with chocolate sundaes is like finding precious treasures on the journey. The compatibility of milk or cream or ice cream that expresses the taste of coffee, changing the littlest notes of its life adding variants of sounds and tones that make colours more vibrant like the frequencies that vibrate the air. The greatest outcome is built from kneaded layers of buttered encouragements between pastries of principles, folding multiples of gestures and pleasantries in ...

Taking a page of how I go through my process of getting myself through the day especially during bouts of depression. At the time I wrote this, I was going through an unexpected wave of it. It felt like a knockout punch to the face as I was supposed to be happy at the time, having my partner around and being elated but something triggered a memory and I spiralled. Breathless... because we choked on our tears Fears overwhelm like undercurrents that bring us  to a place we don't expect Neurons misfire Miscommunicate causing fingers to tremble like earthquakes A constant reminder That your own body isn't in your control A time frame when all senses escape Reality is misplaced Drowning in sorrow isn't the same as  drowning your sorrows Guilt buried deep in our skin Seeping through subcutaneous regrets and resentment  Dermal disdained memories Visceral feelings of churning discomfort   A whiskey a day to keep the monkeys away Dry djinn spells and eerie absinthe nights dwe...

This is how my mind flows in the wee hours of the morning especially after a day or two of no sleep. In recent months, I binge on Netflix series and watch it till I see the sunrise, then try to get some sleep and hopefully not waste the rest of my day. This one was during the times of binge-watching 'The Good Place' and listening to this Alison Wonderland playlist. I performed this piece at Oral Fixation's second last show in Sceni in 2019. I remember seeing your constellation mapping the journey through each and every fabric of time It's being, the sensations of the logical thinking brief fleeting memories flights of insomnia strike laced with glory and salutations Glorification Instant menial solitude of solitary blacks cascading into chanting reactions and stairs of tumbles and ruffles like wind and carcasses that feel like butterscotch rain and Thundercats pains the Wayne's of destitute seeming in a tad wonder and tranquil burning and lustre silver slivers and ...

In April 2020, If Walls Could Talk had an online poetry show to raise funds for the refugees in Malaysia, we did our monthly tradition of having a round-robin poem this time with all the viewers that night as the show was going on. This was written by  82 contributors from 7 countries.   Though I am not with you, I am... This is a poem about nothing and everything: Though I am not with you, I am painting a tree with my tooth Though I am not with you, I am cackling at all your quarantine memes Though I am not with you, I am sharing the same dream. Though I am not with you, I am Hamlet’s left kidney. Though I am not with you, I am standing in solidarity with the same people Though I am not with you, I am in the stanzas you speak. Though I am not with you, I am right behind you...spooky ;) Though I am not with you, I am within you, snug against your great veins Swirling, swishing. Eager to feel the sun with you Longing to watch your lips move without the buffer Dreaming about you...