Lost Places

Haven't been writing much lately really. Poetry wise, it is like having run out of tricks. Still, at times, it is fun just playing with words:

The Pro in Baldness

of course, toilet paper

must be white-faced

seeing all the shit

it can't be more

shocked

much like an old

head except it has

an exit door

P.S.: There should be no doubt where I was inspired to write this. Then again, it is kind of desperate.

Water

Water was born
In ocean,
Taught of thirst
By land, taught
Of sorrow by rain,
A letter a flower
Keeps.

P.S.: This was written after like hours of reading poetry. And I thought I have lost it, a place in my own heart. Though, I will continue searching. I read somewhere that poetry balances the line between the beauty of words and what you have in your heart - you have to be frank, or it has to be from your heart, that is. Am I even making any sense?

On another note, I spent some time walking in it on its last day on 1 Dec 18. As it is the case with all old, nostalgic buildings in this country that have expired their uselessness, the Bukit Merah Public Library has to go. One of the many days I spent there was used to write this:

Tears

Let salt seep before
Grief or joy crystallises.
All of life wheels on.

See, you see how useful a place can be? Let my home's toilet tell you, if you still have doubt.