photo of a signboard displayed at a borders store in Selangor, Malaysia. photography by ssj, 2019
‘nice to see, nice to hold,
once broken, considered sold.’
— anonymously printed on a signboard at a borders store
modern magic spells,
flasks of fortune to dispense
ancient human greed
stir up the cauldron,
lift the urns into the air,
there are no borders
longer than your smile,
wider than your appetite,
these spells are for sale.
– © ssj 2019
@ the center court of the Suria KLCC, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, Dec. 2018. photography by SSJ
the public is
normally a band of
toy soldiers for
mainstream and
social media to
play with.
what will you be
when at 10:10
the clock strikes?
© ssj 2018
Lifted from a postcard that I came across on Messenger, but most specially from my heart to yours: here’s wishing you all a relaxed mind, a peaceful soul, a joyful spirit, a healthy body and a heart full of love this holiday season and always.
As you can surmise, I remain lost at the 10:10, and will probably not be able to blog regularly for some more time. And if you are wondering, why the 10:10?, here’s a few fun links to get you going after the 10:10, for whatever good it will do to your part of the multiverse:
Why is 10:10 the Default Setting for Clocks and Watches?
4 Reasons Why You Are Seeing 10:10 – The Meaning of 1010
— SSJ, 31 Dec. 2018
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Disclaimer: The poster above is not earning me any commission fees, neither from the image’s watch watchmaker, nor from any of the Suria KLCC businesses that you may encounter in some of the links on this page.
Image is a mashup of photos by Jaymantri @ pexels.com and Trinck @ pixabay.com. The imagery employs some amount of Gaussian blur combined with a zooming effect. Neither of the original photos is anywhere near 71st Sinaiyah.
this is what a WTD moment
on 71st Sinaiyah at my 10:
10:00 AM looks like from
the driver’s seat:
narrow asphalt lanes
no longer than a mile
going and coming empty
but for the single file of sad cars
illegally parked along the curbs
— but only illegal for stray
traffic cops to say —
withering dull or glossy
under the desert sun on
either side of 10:09:58 AM,
twin solid yellow lines solemnly mark
separation at the middle of the world
promising a robust paradise
at the foreseeable future bend,
when from the corner of an eye
a red ocher car whips up to life:
an arabian horse that bolts
head-on to my 10:09:59 AM
to slice the yellow lines
that breath with me
like a gaussian asymmetry
of thunder flash that grips
the blood vessels to preach
a lesson on the oscillation
of a school of souls
from head to soles and back,
through gaps of teeth
through blinding sight
as one wonders at 10:10:01 AM
where all the air has gone.
© said sadain, jr. 2018
WTD is a modest substitute for WTF as the poem is meant to be read by poetry lovers of all ages with no need for any elderly supervision.
You do not need to understand what a Gaussian function is to appreciate a Gaussian asymmetry. Just feel it stir up from within your core, warming your veins, and flowing into your poetry.
— ssj, 24 november 2018
the image by annca @ pixabay.com has been slightly modified by an overlay of a 1950’s family photo
one day gone
and i don’t remember anymore
how my little brother looks like
— blame my eyes for they have seen
much to the seclusion of simplicity
a lock of golden hair
mingling with the innocence of
a face, or the hippie look
of david bowie?
sweet brown eyes round and full
of crinkled laughter silently
echoed within the brown of the eyes
but it could well be
the piercing green of that creature
in the exorcist
the pristine curve of
pinkish lips in the manner of a
smile and the reddish dimple of
a child three years old,
but no — i envision the sneer
of a fox and the dimple of
a gorilla.
i reach for the picture in my
pocket, but alas
the picture of my little brother
has blurred away
with the passing of
moments.
© said sadain, jr. 1974
The poem “lost in time” first saw print in the Focus Philippines Magazine, 9 Nov. 1974 issue. The film The Exorcist (released to cinemas in late 1973) apparently confused my young mind enough back then to deserve being mentioned in this poem. So did David Bowie’s look confused me a lot, looking really more of hip than hippie with his gender-blending beatnik-ness that could easily color nightmares. While not much of a fan of Bowie’s music or his style, I did pay attention to some of his songs’ poetry, such as Life On Mars and Starman, this early interest to seemingly augur my later-life fascination with the exploits of Elon Musk 😀
— SSJ, 10 Nov. 2018
Image is cropped from a photo by Engin_Akyurt @ pixabay.com
photo by sasint @ pixabay.com
image is a mashup of photos and artwork of darksouls1, 41330 and PublicDomainPictures @ pixabay.com
the sad letters of empty pages
sit with me and my daily wages,
mother whispers from miles of hue:
back home my son they look for you
on window sills where hang the stars
that pluck the notes from your guitar,
are you this coffee memory
across the table, across the sea?
the frogs and turtles have come to pass
to sing the chorus of the grass,
to drown in rain of lines unwritten
to wait for you pick up the pen,
to write your blank letters on sad edges
to read with me the sky’s pages
© said sadain, jr. 2018
Note:
I shall be away from blogging for at least a month, to drown in rain of lines unwritten, to sit on pages of algorithms. Until then, here’s wishing you good health and starry nights.
— Said, 23 August 2018
Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on Pexels.com
