possibility

Why do people make up memories? They never happened but they play in your mind over and over again.

Like a dream you're directing. You can rewrite the dialogues. You can make him walk to you this time, instead of away. You can make yourself cry this time, instead of staying silent. These things never happened. He never looked at you that way. Those words would've never come out of your mouth. You have never been to that restaurant. That restaurant doesn't even exist.

But there, in your little grey matters, there you are. And him. And you. And he looks you at this way that he never did. And you said all these words you were never smart enough to think. He holds your hand. He smiles. You smile. That's all really - his hand over yours. Of all things your mind could imagine, this one memory - one that doesn't exist - keeps replaying in your head.

You wish it happened. But that's not exactly true.

You have other made up memories. Always him. Looking at you in that way you wish he did. Always you. Saying things that's too smart and witty that you can never say. At the beach with nobody else. In his bed, under the covers, fully clothed. In the rain like in the movies. In your living room, with your parents in the next room.

But always the same - that look, your words.

It's not the memory you wanted. You missed them because it did happen. A long time ago. When he still could look at you that way. When you still could say things that you never imagine saying. But it's in the past. It didn't matter where it happened and how. But the fact is it did. And you can't have it again. It happened already. If life was a movie, this would be the credits rolling. It's over. it's over. it's over.

And those made up memories aren't memories you want in the past - it's the memories you want to create in the future. To look forward to. To not have it to end. Don't let it happen. We can have it in the restaurant, in a full hallway, in the bright light of a lamp post in a deserted street. And then...

And then you can look at me in that way again. And I'll say it this time. I'll say it. I'll say it this time.

Just... look at me.




I miss those made-up memories because...
I missed the possibility of it happening.

feast

here
in the valley of red
on the bed
of my mouth
lies your pride
gnashed between my
little white bones
your fears, a sweet little enticement
from your epic insecurity
ten million stanzas long
a deity is dictating
them
on and on she goes
sweat and vigour won't stop her
from making you feel
like excrement waste

i love it when you
avert your eyes
where is your vanity
just stains on my teeth
your weaknesses
a mile long buffet
i am always in a feast
ten million plates of guts
on display

look up, dear
we've come to stare
when you trip, stumble,
and fall
our applauses explode
as silent as our smiles
hidden underneath our
stoic lips

look up dear,
i love it when you avert your eyes
witness me cradling your organs
to my gleaming whites
as the deity's lips
chases you
witness me
be the lover of gluttony
be your troubles' devotee
i am always in a feast

your bones
my main course

xxx 

This poem is not dedicated to anyone.

I read this during Sharon Bakar's Readings@Seksan November 2009. I read two poems of mine, one is this and the other is 'Crooked Rib'. This one seemed to be the favourite of the crowd that day. I had this person, who happens to be a junior magistrate judge, telling me I am very morbid person... I didn't need anyone to tell me that actually. ;) 

September 2009. Kajang.

moo?

I wanted to put a picture of a cow

but I feel that might offend some animal lovers out there. ;)

Been busy, so I guess you just get a lame-ass wish in a post. Sorry love.

Go easy on the meat, people. I know it's free and all. Heh. 

SELAMAT HARI RAYA HAJI!