22 May 2008

              The Widow

              He died.

              She lived,
              or rather continued
              to exist,

              standing at a distance
              from herself
              to watch her days
              fall away like leaves.

              In her mind, she began
              to rewrite the
              unhappy plots of
              their marriage

              creating fictional,
              improved endings to
              better justify
              her grief.

              Slowly, she withdrew from
              the babble and noise
              of the outside world

              into the secret inner
              temple of herself

              where she alone was martyr –

              the one betrayed by the other
              who left too soon.

              Her prayers were never

              but she remained in
              that cold,
              familiar place

              where all was safe,
              and always

posted by Gilbert at Thursday, May 22, 2008 8 comments

21 May 2008


              Sipping a little water
              he calmly talks of pain.
              He trusts in Jesus (I do not)
              believes in heaven
              (I do not), and for a
              last wish, would have me
              trust and believe too.
              Then he coughs, once,
              very hard -
              blood and phlegm
              spilling from his mouth
              landing on his shirt,
              a dark patch like cancer.
              As I reach for the tissue box,
              he lifts his arms slightly
              away from himself,
              a look of mild disgust
              and annoyance
              on his face,
              as if his body were
              a broken old TV or car,
              a piece of machinery
              soon to be thrown
posted by Gilbert at Wednesday, May 21, 2008 24 comments

10 May 2008

                Hong Lim Park

                a fat man stands
                announces an opinion
                as if it mattered

                in the hot sun
                the trees yawn and
                almost sigh

                the retirees wish
                they had their
                park back

posted by Gilbert at Saturday, May 10, 2008 7 comments

03 May 2008

                On Foreign Talent

                All the world’s a stage.
                We are actors.
                The script of my country
                has been rewritten
                for new and foreign
                I could leave to act
                or else forever play
                the minor parts.
                “You’re dispensable,”
                says the director.
                It’s his call.
                Although I feel cheated,
                I know that his show
                must go on.

posted by Gilbert at Saturday, May 03, 2008 8 comments