The Muruku Murmurations

Recently Swit Marie has gotten more active on the HitRECord platform and started working on new material and collaborations. This was definitely the highlight of 2020 for her years of writing in the past few years. Reaching an international audience and being part of a community of creatives through this project involving over 180 contributors. The piece that was submitted for the This Is Malaysia video by HitRECord was derived from Dragon Tail . This Is Malaysia  final script remixed by Matt Conley from 8 contributors. This I s Malaysia video. The morning sun greets the mist of the hills, Joy seeps into my lungs as the morning dew kisses my cheeks, Peppercorn scents sing melodies of what the day could be. Waking up to the clouds embracing the mountain ranges This is where my heart belongs My fingertips touch the sparkle in the air made by the sun rays that love the mist My shoulders rise with the lightness of the sunrise. A symphony of swallows sifting through the clouds, Murmur...

In November 2019, I had the opportunity to participate in BALOH! with the Urbanscapes Festival at Kwai Chai Hong in the heart of Kula Lumpur where my dad used to grew up. I went head to head with MC Stiff in a poetry debate. Topic:  College VS Life Foundation Would you rather be thrown into the deep end? Have the risk of drowning or learning how to swim Would you trust a lifeguard without training A doctor with no paper Would you trust a lacky with subjective truth? Or a professor, mentor and teacher Higher learning is the higher ground Having a foundation that you can depend on. Test of Life You have to understand, Quantification of your qualification Comes from structured education Having consistency in efficacy Pre-testing in safe zones Trumps trial and error in a real fire Pressures of well designs simulations Instead of free reign experimentations Guidance My cikgu says to learn how to do it right the first time My mother says that experience is gathered over time My sensei ...

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...

Here are the links for the past e-books that Makhluk Seni has compiled through the past three years. The e-books are compilations of songs, poetry and art inspired by prompts that the team came up with for collaborations. PACT: Poetry-Art Collaboration Time! (Ebook + Art Bundle) Ver2 PACT  is an ebook compilation by Makhluk Seni that blends Poetry and Art together. What started as a single tweet with a writing prompt, has led up to this project that melts two art forms together. This ebook comprises of over 100 written pieces, and over 40 illustrations from artists worldwide. Art can truly be made more beautiful with collaborations. PACT Volume 2: Poetry-Art Collaboration Time! This is the second volume of this project, comprising of over  200 written pieces, and over 40 illustrations from artists worldwide . This year, we showcased the artworks and poems in our IMPACT event on 4th and 5th May 2019 in Twenty20Two, Petaling Jaya. And now we’re releasing this ebook so tha...

This piece is a remix of a poem that my friend wrote. I was showing him an example of how people can edit and create poems from existing poems and the possibilities of the different style to collaborate. I maintained rhyming as in the poem to relate it back to the original as much as I could. It definitely turned out to have a very different outcome and emotion to it as we both have different takes of when we read the original piece. The original piece was written by Nicholas. At day break Right where the sun beams wake By the lake where palms cup the first breaths of my vitality This is the beginning of legacy. The skies change its tone as swallows sweep as kites soar Dancing with winds blown as rain pours as I weep over the things I have outgrown. As my youth slipped through the cracks Like an hourglass tipping over The grains of sand lose track within its own gradients covered in the multitudes of a thousand folds Quicker as the angle grows steeper. Falling with gravity is inevita...

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...

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...

We met Nadia Zahari at 'Verbal Diarrhoea' hosted by Minut Init some time ago. Both Nadia and I love to travel and we decided to collaborate on that topic of interest. Take a peak into our 'Travel Log'. Wonderful wanderlust, The thrill of travelling, Excitement bursting, When I jump on the city bus. Peek into the little nooks, Get lost in quint and quiet crannies, Walk down random alleys, Rewrite generic travel books. Feet splashing is my favourite thing, Take me down to the moat, On that little yellow boat , So I can sing this entire spring. The contours of these foreign floors, Take me on a journey as time ticks, Rich history embedded in these bricks, My imagination dances through these doors. The townsfolk painted the town red, At night they sing their anthems, And dance, and conjured the night phantom, Say, Hail the victorious dead! My pen dotting and pencil sketching, Etching the imagery of scenic beauty, Journals of culture...

There are times in a life of an artist when he goes through dry spells in his creating. These dry spells could be due to the undesired muses that come and go. It was an honour to get to write this with my new friend, Aaron  L. from Wisconsin, USA. My dry spell is a desert at this point, My muse has betrayed my tongue, As disappointing as a bad joint, As broken as a tune unsung. To your muse you must bid adieu, She has gone astray, mottled, used and bitter, Astray, but for time as stale breath breathing anew, Parched to quenched from my muses pitcher. Quenched & swelling, New growth pillaring, Pillaring out of tangled strife, Residue of parched remnants of past life. Gripping tales of the days of old, Parchments of stories untold, May new history unfold, As precious as a treasure trove full of gold. Pennies as sweet and plain, When snatched from the pool of the muses, Muses who care not of my pain, The grimy fountain of youth ...

A collaborative poem, result of a Facebook Poetry Round started by Boss Lady Lia!  (Lia) Just 3 letters, short and snappy yet so fraught with meaning It can be innocent, curious or belligerent, ready to pick a fight.. (Sheril A Bustaman) Bordering between a question & confrontration, People often forget curiosity killed the cat, Subliminal tones on social media & text, This three letter word - so easily misinterpreted. (Jack Malik) “I’m okay” (Dhabitah Zainal) Or so I have trained myself to believe over the years Because no one has provided me with answers, Just more layers  of questions that linger on in my mind  even after they told me: "some things aren't meant to be  interrogated - they're meant to be accepted." (Gwendonline E. Hay) and after so many years training cats to stay in bags and teaching curiosity it's meant to be seen on report cards and not heard in polite society the word still fits to...

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...