An Ancient Love Poem

(Someone copied this poem and made an atrocious ending to it thus making it very distasteful and offensive when it is meant to be just that, a beautiful lighthearted poem on making love. I encountered it in the 80s when I was a student in Singapore and managed to keep a copy of it which I posted it now. I don’t claim to be the author and I am not plagiarising it. I will give credit when due (please convince me ) because the author’s name was not on my copy, but certainly I am not going to acknowledge the one, a professor in the US shared. His version doesn’t even rhyme well or sound correct if I may be so bold to say)

This is as original as it sounds.

Adam & Eve, as everyone knows

Lived in a garden, without any clothes

And in the garden, there were two little leaves

One covered Adam, the other Eve

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As the story goes, needless to say

Along came the wind, which blew them away

And the wondering sight, that made Adam stare

Was Eve’s rookie, all covered with hair

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The night was calm, with a silvery moon

And soon they both found, a place to spoon

And the amazing sight, that met Eve’s eyes

Was Adam’s ‘thing’, as it started to rise

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Adam thrust, with all his might

For his was big, and hers was small and tight

And forward and backward, he did stride

Till friction made Eve, all juicy inside

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She jerks and moan, as he teases her darts

Her legs spread wider, as he pistons her tart

Then all of a sudden, Eve gave a loud shrill

As Adam’s ‘thing’, began to spill

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Adam was so spent, but down Eve went

She sucks him wildly and devour his content

She made him twitch, and pleases him good

As Adam kept spurting, till he ran out of food

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Three months later, all went well

Six months later, ‘What a swell!’

Nine months later, what a shock!

Out comes a baby, with a nine inch c’ck!

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(Author Unknown)

Every time it Rains

Every time it rains,

I imagine

cuddling you in my arms ,

and smell your hair..

The trickles,

reminds me of the seconds

on the face of

a clock,

and how much we have wasted

over trivial matters..

when we could use them

for love..

I have never forgotten

to love you

Even when it rains

Every time it rains

Let it stream down your heart

and gutter into a pool

Filled with love

In my heart

Let it striate the fog

off our windows

And remove the gale from our eyes

Each time it rains

Every time it rains..

-Kris Lee 2020.

Burnt Sand

The seabirds have flown

The grasses have turned brown

What are we but burnt sand

If hearts that bind no longer shine

But wilt in the golden meadow.

“To be or not to be, that is the question”

“To be or not to be, that is the question” – cited from William Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

MEMOIRS OF A GIGOLO

“You are my tender flower of the night

And I am your gardener

I tend to you

So that you will continue to bloom

and blossom

and flourish

Not wilt

Without sunlight

So that the bees may take interest in you

And the weeds will not choke you

And you are self assured being where you are

Once dejected

But now again chosen.

I feel elated and rejoiceful

So that I could go tend to other flowers

as well and make the whole garden bloom

With a life of its own

Although I spent my whole life

as a gardener

I don’t have the privilege to own

any flower.

As much as I wanted to.”

(Author Unknown)

⁃

Deepest Crevice

“And what is that fragrance

That cuddles my little grey cells

And held me captive

In the deepest crevice

of my darkest night

Through mazy pathways

The wonder of you

Clusters in patches

Of broken dew

Through summer neglect

Above the frothy dunes

Peaks the silken embrace

Of curvy primal steed

Of your scented breath.

~Krisis Politik Negara Kita ~ Satu Puisi~

Puting berliung dah bergelora

Disana sini berhuru hara

Apakah kisah selepas bicara

Bola disepak tak sampai ke jaringnya

Izinkan saya berbicara

Yang pusing sebenarnya kepala saya

Sama seperti penyelap cermin kereta

Saat ke kanan saat ke kiri, akhir jatuhnya

Takkanlah rakyat mudah lupa

Diketepikan sebenarnya suara kita

Maruah dicabar salah siapanya

Jika nasib terkatak ditangan musuhnya

Termimpi mimpi terharu haru

Wahai politikus generasi baru

Malam dah tiba kiralah bulu

Besok sekali lagi permimpin terbaru

Dan terbaru…

Dan terbaru…

Silent Killer

( In memory of the victims of coronavirus)

Silently she walks in

To your domain

With a strain in hand

Her alluring fragrance makes

You teary, nose slimy, throat choky

Temperature rises…

She held you captive,

For a moment, then leaves

A sprig in your hand

To baton on…

A melodrama perhaps?

Or a quaint love story?

She knows

That you will do anything for her

As you hung on the cliff

Circumambulating and spinning

Softly she ushers, your mind over

Into the vortex of deep slumber…

No harness, no more sprig

No one knows your secret affair

With that lady who veils your night

A kiss and your mind soothes

A blanketed reflection

Of pale regret

The lady is wicked

She’s a silent killer

No more said.

You Were Born to Leave Me

Spaces in between us

is not part of my plan

For within the spaces seeps in loneliness

coupled with suicidal thoughts

and a mind that turns runny with tears

I had you but I left you

alone

In search of your own destiny

Trenched within the crevices

of cold hard stones

Watching you gay churns tears inside

An innocent baby with high hopes for daddy

But you were born to leave me

Cant you see?

That your life may be better

I have faired worse than you think I am

Daddy has not left you a proud baby

But you are me

Yet you are not of me

And I pain inside

Always with thoughts of you

Because I failed you.

The heavens no longer dances for me

since a long time ago

Dotty dearest, Daddy is so sorry

Daddy’s world will only be ok

if only you are ok.

But daddy didn’t do much for you

And wedged between us is mommy

Please forgive me dotty.

Words Fly

I tried to emulate the bird,

so I can soar with the wind.

But the principles of levitation is beyond me.

I am all mass and matter,

and I don’t possess high powered wings.

Thus, I can only perch

and propel my thoughts,

and try to make my words fly…

Back Back Back

In a flashback

if you playback,

kindly layback and

re-read that feedback

which is a kickback

from that outback

that had us setback

thus the cutback

and the piggyback.

Apologises

The best part of me is still connected to
your heart.
The worse? Still apologizes
as we go along….

Pelt

I pelt at your feet.

That your fragrance may envelope me.

That I may continually experience love.

Inside darkened alleys…

To Each a Journey

To each, a different journey.
To each, a differing destiny.
Though we are born of the same roots

Conjoined to the same tree.

Quaint Is The Night

Quaint is the night appliqué with roses
I braid your petals as you tide
If you can striate the peaks I neigh
Why wallow, why whimper, why wait?

fatalities

Purple fountains from the weeds
Endless raging through mystic eyes
Why are your fatalities tied to mine?
As I return to tumble deep.

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New York Facet 1

It’s morning now
Them New Yorkers hurried
Between cobbled pavements
And potholed routes
Stuffy subway stations
Littered tracks
Leaking ceilings
Does dreams began
With state of the art headphones?
Can life commute
Without common courtesy?
I ponder the pitter patter
As I gaze at their
expressionless faces
Looking over
them dusty windows..
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remember me by

remember me not

for the bad things I

did not do

but for all the roses I

scattered on your fair

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remember me not

for the warts found on my skin

or the greying of my hair but

for my politeness that graces

your concerns

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remember me not

by the odds that

weigh me down

that made you wise

for it won’t come again

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our photos have bleached

the stains has blurred

but as I outstretch myself

way up high

I could only see love

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and feel the mood

suspended on the clouds

and that is how you

should remember us by

the umbrella that we held tight..

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weighted

we don’t know how

we don’t know why

but

we  keep  plodding

we waited

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being weighted.

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on my desert

on my desert

she blooms

in the cold night

she wails

one fine day

she wilted

and so I froze her

inside my memory

recalling the day

that day

when on my desert

she blooms..

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beacon of hope

I have gotten used to you

who appeared in my darkest hour

and became my beacon of hope

I wasn’t ready to give in

neither was I ready to give you up

but I guess I was built never to

to see any good child fatherless

or selfishly shade any good woman

away from the sun

when they deserve so much more

which is how we ended up elevated

under the spotlight of ridicule

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I have gotten used to you

and with you in my arms

we hung on through all storms

fighting with the clouds till it

turns cotton white once more

but I guess I was built never to

be understood by the child

nor the selfishly good woman

of why living with both is better

than choosing either one

which is why you ended up agitated

under the spotlight of scorn

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I have gotten used to you

but the beacon grew weaker

as you snuff me off your schedule

I wasn’t ready to give in

neither was I ready to give you up

but I guess I was built never to

father again another good child

or court again another good woman

then hiding them away from the sun

when I am convinced I deserve none

which is how I ended up dishevelled

away from the spotlight of it all..

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till my promise

when the rain has tidied

and mud has bedded the earth

I shall never forget the sun that follows

and remember to till my promise

over the cracked land

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till the flowers bloom once more..

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mad dad bad dad

mad   dad

gad    dad

mad   dad

fad     dad

mad   dad

bad    dad

cad    dad

sad     lad

mad   dad

fad      lad

bad    dad

bad     lad

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rainbowed

we  have  had  many  good  years

and    like    many    strong    trees

we have withstood  many  a  gale

and survived the freezing months

and   that’s    all    I    believed    in

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I am paced  to  walk  more  years

down  the  path  that  we  cleared

and imagined  it  to  be  our  aisle

then   take   in   all    the    blooms

that    scatters   outside   our   sill

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and  that’s  how  our   journey  is

never    indifferent    from   others

never    imposing    but     special

because  sunshine   more   than

always   illuminated   our    tears

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that      nourishes      the      seed

that                                rainbowed

even   the  darkest   of  darkness

that I must admit do  sometimes

blind  the   faith   in  each   of   us

.

but      like       conjoined       twins

outside     that     picture      frame

we   have   overcomed    distress

and reaped the fruits  we  sowed

always                               together

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I   remained   always   faithful   to

our           one           commitment

and    I   hope    that    we    could

sustain our breath and  lengthen

what      we       have      cultivated

.

till            we            grow          old

if      I       may      be     so      bold

to unravel  the  truth  we  planted

that  we are a  bigger  part  of  us

and  that  we   belonged   to    us

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persistent

there is only one  woman  I  love

but  I  am  no  longer  persistent

in her memory

and so I need to fend for myself

but    she   will   remain   forever

etched

for breathing life  into  my  story

as the only one I ever cared for

and believed in.

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what women prefer

some woman prefers looks

some woman prefers intellect

some woman prefers companionship

some woman prefers humor

.

some woman prefers success

some woman prefers power

some woman prefers money

some woman prefers stability

.

some woman prefers character

some woman prefers personality

some woman prefers care

some woman prefers love

.

some woman prefers fun

some woman prefers laughter

some woman prefers adventure

some woman prefers thrill

.

some woman prefers sex

some woman prefers danger

some woman prefers suspense

some woman prefers mystery

.

some woman prefers honesty

some woman prefers sincerity

some woman prefers loyalty

some woman prefers faithfulness

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some woman prefer ability

some woman prefer capability

some woman prefer responsibility

some woman prefer maturity

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some woman prefers gentleness

some woman prefers kindness

some woman prefers peace

some woman prefers calm

.

some woman prefers surprises

some woman prefers privacy

some woman prefers attention

some woman prefers quietness

.

some woman prefers words

some woman prefers action

some woman prefers talkativeness

some woman prefers silence

.

some woman prefers one

some woman prefers many

some woman prefers all

some woman prefers none

.

some woman prefers woman.

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Old Chum

can we rewind back

our episode

of nondescript felon

can we picture

and tone it

in your colors then

of insipid black

then white

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can we freeze frame

that televised bomb

being hoisted off the sea

then educate your mama

and your hobby cat

how dangerous

deep slumber with

mosquito coils can be

.

green fields all day

fanfare at night

through hazy clouds you lay bare

all the litters of fright

can you dust the soot off

those charming old lamps

so flags, frangipani and bananas

could jolly well band

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one day like chemist

we both shall blend

the odd bathroom formulas

with that of your kitchen ends

then try to decipher

while the barber chair swivels

why the view outside the openings

is always as green as ever

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but the cock crows too soon

to doctor jam’s tune

the kites, the bird cages, the ducks

they all revere to you

when thunder brings rain

with it sprigs of  mangroves grow

it clogs and floods the drain

it is you who follow those tows

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I’d remember you by

an old chum who comics

but deep down camera-shy

with cheroot-like status

you humbled, you beatify

the putrid, the puny

the mundane

why oh why?

.

can we snip off those stills

of acrid smog

with balaclava, bicycles

no automated post box

you dance with your hand

with patience and good sense

you caption, then motion

our bridge now has no end

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I’d remember you by

when I see lembus steering

and swerving on the road

so little to pacify

when I relish the nasi kandar

I will encircle and ponder

what life is like with Rose Chan

beyond that yonder

.

am digesting it all in

with a glass full of water

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raised in USA?

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(This poem is dedicated to Ismail Hashim 1940-2013, finest art photographer and friend).

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fuselage

fake notes

fake paintings

fake smiles

a fuselage of confusion

within us..

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crown of mankind

a mathematical world

a  calculating   specie

the crown of mankind

is              selfishness.

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inheriting invincibility

I inherited

My   dad’s   broad   shoulders

Not    his    six     pack

I inherited

My dad’s roman nose

Not his  sunken  eyes

But   I   feel   invincible

Wearing my daddy’s sarong

Caping on his fearlessness

I looked the warrior  he  was

Yea

I looked the warrior  he  was..

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