The Muruku Murmurations

Regret is a dish best served with chocolate and wine. Ignorance is best served with vodka and lemon slices. Love is best served on its own. Ignorance is bliss Sometimes that way is best Never knowing you Never having you Never seeing you Never meeting you Never loving you. Then I would not know Of what I am letting go Of what is at stake Of who is waiting on the other side Of when I should walk away Of how this would have become... The trace that is left behind When I face the terms And wonder if any if not all of it was a mistake. When it comes to leaving you When it comes to telling you When it comes down to this This time was expected This time that was unintended This time that was wasted This time we come to an end. - Swit Marie 0417H 31st May 2017 Geek HQ

We both weren't bad people, not necessarily bad for each other but definitely not the best thing at this point of time. Young is your heart Naive is my soul Cracking is your life Bit by bit With each day that passes Right from the time we said "Let's give this a chance." What was left is the Image of who we thought we were Tinted with disappointment. - Swit Marie 1718H 27th May 2017 Vainglory Championship

When you come to a state where you are fully drained and there is nothing left to give and no capacity to receive. Internally spent Like a room up for rent No questions asked about who came and went. Physically wasted Emotionally drained Mentally tainted Straddling along with the pain Layers of vibrations of raindrops Falling on the streets Colliding with leaves Drenching my hair Falling till my tears stop Colours are faded Scars and wounds of the jaded My heart again forsakened Never again to be awakened. Wrecked like a weary ship Sails tattered and battered Creaking like quivering lips Knots loose and scattered Faint is my voice Silenced without a choice Unable to push air Through my vocal chords As breathing was a dead affair from the time it reached this corpse. - Swit Marie 1501H 2nd June 2017 BK5 Swit Marie is a 'Jacqueline of all trades' who loves wearing plaid who thinks in rhyme all the time A believer in making dreams come true, she w...

One of our very first official class assignments was to write a poem based on Maya Angelou's poem, ' Caged Bird ' using flowers with the theme of Freedom vs. Oppression. We were given only 30 minutes to write, the poem had to have a similar style and length. One of the lines were used to form a new stanza for the next assignment, it can be found  here . A straight stalk, solely for one; a white, half bloom, considered as perfect. Tucked in a pocket snugged beside stiff lapels of a pitch black blazer. A rose taken, a rose given for a reason. Slight breeze flutters through its subtle petals as the groom scurries down the aisle; a distinct rush of nerves felt by the stalk as it hears a whisper, "Is this my beginning or the end? A posse of roses and baby breaths chatter excitedly, enveloped by pretty lace and wrapped in ribbons to accentuate their colours, In the hand of a young, established lady. A rose taken, a rose given for a reason. Their st...

In West Coast Swing, connection is one of the key concepts of making or breaking the dance. We tend to lose it when we rush and try our best to find it when our space is running out. Connection. A word so easily defined and understood but difficult to explain. A bond of two separate entities joined at a point that creates a bridge for information to be transferred. A beginning for new developments and possibilities that leads to endless amounts of potential because one foundation is built upon another. A pathway for energy to flow, for transformation to occur between different forms, where modifications and implementations can transpire because there is a medium for it to exist. A channel for conversation to interchange between individuals, cultures, generations and worlds, links in ways best left to the imagination, beyond thoughts, chance and limitations, stretching through multiple facets of humanity. A world that is not quiet, where one person is not the only per...

It's a rare moment when something clicks and a very honest raw connection is made. It is something that I treasure very deeply and it becomes very difficult to let go. It's been a month since Asia West Coast Swing Open, all the thrills, lessons, skills and emotions. More dance inspired poetry in the making. I heard your name from across the room Uttered by experienced women of the trade I saw your silhouette glide across the lacquered wood floor And watched you move your slender body To the rhythm of a top 40's pop song playing in the background We were amazed by your skill, Your effortless ability to create gorgeous flow of emotion, drawing in the crowd with the rhythm And loving the moment as it went You came alive as you brought light towards your performance Your eyes twinkle like the stars in the velvet deep blue night sky. Your face looked my way As I spoke of silly things You saw me shy away from intimidating spins As I thought that it was all...

This is one of those nights when insomnia is my only company. Yet another cold, cold night, Dripping, leaking tap water Dampening the stale air Absence of proper banter Windows sneaking in pale street lights Freckles of dust dancing without a care. My eyes compressed so tightly My chest tightens like a boa constrictor's grip While my world sleeps soundly My mind tossing and turning Madly as my body remains silent Every skeletal muscle tense The disconnect between my body and mind makes no sense My disrupted soul begets worry Flight of thought racing in circuit My judgement crumbles like biscuits No warmth from my covers, Soaked in regret from my past lovers Wandering lost in list of lust Endless winding matters Wondering if I could have turned out better Instead of aching under layers of rust. Wringing of my fingers Trembling in my lips Tapping of my finger tips My joints crackling like crisp in the fire Chilled by the dawn's cool air And slow...