No Comfort Nor Warmth

She was a keeper in every sense of the word and he thought
He could dominate her and possess every bit of her as if
She belonged wholly to him – every single inch of her all under
His control and all for his manipulation and order;

He never would have thought that one day even this faithful of a girl
Could get tired enough to turn around and walk away from him – forever
Never to ever return a call or a text or to even see him once ever again:
Gone like the autumn breeze which never again would drift by for a moment in time;

It was when the autumn breeze no longer caressed the back of his hair
That he realised he should have enjoyed the magic in the air a little more
And cherish the lightness in his spirits and steps which she brought him –
A spark which only she and she alone could ignite and make blossom;

With her and autumn gone there only was
The coldness of winter left to comfort him:

That which is of no comfort nor warmth.

(Very loose writing inspired by three lines describing a relationship; a relationship which has past and is likely a forgotten memory. It’s a five minutes job in a cafe while chatting with a friend, but I still hope it is worth a read.)

At The Wet Market

It is seven and early in the morning:

The bustling Sunday wet market is filled with people –
Grannies buying chilli to be cooked with bean sprout for the family,
Mothers buying fruits for the health of their delicate young ones,
Father and son out getting groceries for a vegetarian lunch;

There in the vegetable store stands the usual vegetable men
In their singlets and Hokkien slangs they shout prices and promote their greens
Where housewives and maids haggle for an extra broccoli or tomato
While the market grows busier and noiser as the morning passes by the minute;

There amongst the crowd works a young girl – no more than seventeen:
She is working up a sweat selling vegetables and collecting money
Where her hands smell of coins and a mixture of different roots and greens
Not exceptionally experienced she appears but enough to be of help;

Possibly a family business it is for her and a good vacation experience
Helping out at the vegetable store in the wet market –
Something which most teenagers these days do not get to go through
And who likely are not willing to dirty their hands or work up a sweat;

To tolerate the smell of all the different meats and vegetables in the wet market,
To learn to appreciate the redolence created by a variety of produce is
In itself a process not many are willing to go through or to adopt for a living
Even if it brings a reasonable income – contentment can be of question;

it is nonetheless a good experience and a profession as any other
Though not necessarily one that is suitable for every other;

It is seven and early in the morning
At the wet market.


You look so tired – You probably are,
Seeing as you fold your arms on the table and place your face over
To catch a quick nap after a long morning of mathematics
Hoping just to rest a little before the battle continues on;

It is pouring outside on a cold Thursday afternoon:
You can’t leave and so you sit and watch the raindrops fall
And doze off unknowing without noticing
The tender eyes that look upon you across the table;

‘She looks really cute fast asleep,’ he says
With a light sparkle appearing in his eyes,
I guess perhaps someday he’ll tell you he loves you,
But seeing you fast asleep all he can do now is look on and smile;

That to him is enough for the time being,
Knowing he will the first person you see when you awake;

With a smile he’ll greet you
As you stir from your sleep,
Secretly hiding a love in his heart
That never will from you yearn to part.

(It was pretty good fun doing this one; I found it pretty amusing as an observer so I couldn’t help but write about it. If you think this possibly is about you, well it probably is. have a good evening everyone)

To My Left

I look to my left – a weariness and a frown,
The smooth contours of your face distort into creases of frustration,
The pain in your eyes overshadows the glow which were to be in its place, 
A pout forms over your lips as you take another sip from the cup;

You don’t deserve to have to go through it all,
This heartache and sadness never was meant to be yours to bear,
You could be much happier doing something better elsewhere, 
There is no need to have to go through this hardship on your own; 

Incoherent is what the A levels has made me today,
To my left is a picture of what the O levels has painted in the fray;

This makes no sense, 
Neither does it to my left.

She Walks By

I lift my weary head and direct my gaze outside the cafe – she walks by the window,
Her hips sashay casually and her black pleated skirt floats gently above her knees,
A plain peach-coloured crop-top wears itself smoothly over her well-endowed upper body, 
Giving her a look of simplicity and ease yet offering a subtle sense of sophistication and chic; 

It was all of five seconds in that beautiful encounter and then she was out of sight, 
Yet for all that five seconds eternity seemed to have taken over and I was entirely lost in that moment,
It was as if time has stopped and the world stood still for me to just admire her as she walks by, 
Forever a moment in time captured in the crystal recesses of my memory bank somewhere in my mind; 

I went back to the same place many a time and tried looking out for her, 
But never once by the window of that cafe did the girl again appear.