The Muruku Murmurations

This piece was written for a HitRECord contribution based on this image . Record can be found here . It was written with the intention to capture the stillness of being when you are one with your surroundings and present with nature. Once in a day of a time where the world halted in its revolve Every living thing stood still, freeze-framed in this breath A streaming gust of wind that flows through the trees, whistle as it weaves through the branches Rustles the abundant crisp, lush leaves, every single one creating a symphony in harmony. This breath of sounds seep through my being Beat my eardrums to its rhythm, fills the spirals of my cochlea, flowing sound waves flood every crevasse of my brain synching my heart to beat as one with it. A surfing surge of peace soaks my bloodstream Turning any turmoil to green, not the colour of envy but tranquility Lifting my ribcage to float in the oxygen-filled air Feet taking root in the ground as the trees Being, existing and living as though my...

In October this year, I am back to where I started. Processing a painful end of another failed relationship, having another bout of insomnia and broken by some incidences that happened in September. This all feels familiar like the creaking of doors and floorboards. Brokenness beyond ability to restore, Gears that do not work any more Creaking croaks that yell in a high pitch roar Nothing will ever sound normal like before. - Swit Marie 0621H 25th August 2019 #MurukuMurmurations

I really hate goodbyes in every context of it, never good at it and it feels like an unfulfilled driveby. Part of processing is accepting, allowing myself to feel which I couldn't do because I didn't want to face the realities of things and it was too dark to sit in my mind-pit. I let my thoughts run and tried not to self-censor when I wrote this. Tonight thunders with no sight of lightning Laying on the floor curled up in fetal form Skin grazing the chaffing carpet with every breath Fingers grasping empty air pockets Coddling a creeping sense of abandonment Weightlessness grows heavy Sinking into a hard cement floor Knees tucking closer to the heart Coldness circulates the body from the inside out. Dear diary, I am not good with goodbyes. Last words you heard were: "Is this vein sufficient for your entry and what is this cocktail?" Absent in anaesthesia Eyes blindfolded by white noise Everything was quietly ringing in the background. Swiftly, the doors open He escape...

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...