Thursday, November 30

Portrait: Girl

She scratched a corner
of the sky,
then a book,
then her mind's eye.
In dismay,
found nothing.

She touched a blade of grass.
It turned into a dove, flew away.
She remained.

Siok Tian Heng

Wednesday, November 22


I no longer know the language
the ink in my pen has dried.
And when I rub my fingers together,
crumb of bytes fall off.

I have no complaints whatsoever.
There's nothing to hide.
Even joy is bare.
Sadness will always be veiled..
Poetry's returned to my life.

This city lets me walk around by myself.
I like to walk around.

I walk.

Wednesday, November 15

Hello and welcome!

We are back!
Been having a good life.
Travelling around, meeting people.
Visiting, revisiting.

Things have changed