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  

spells to sell

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 


signboard displayed at a borders store in Selangor, Malaysia – no filters. photography by ssj, 2019



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still lost in time at the 10:10

when the 10:10 strikes



@ 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

Those ones and zeros might not look like anything to you, but in binary code the numbers are actually saying… 

The Ten Codes 

— SSJ, 31 Dec. 2018

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.

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splitting seconds


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.

splitting seconds

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:
Continue reading

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lost in time


the image by annca @ pixabay.com has been slightly modified by an overlay of a 1950’s family photo

lost in time

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

© 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

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countless colors shall bring tomorrow


Image is cropped from a photo by Engin_Akyurt @ pixabay.com

countless colors shall bring tomorrow

the fires of life taste the flavor
of dwarf gardens in poets’ dreams
raised by cold river on rushing currents.
nearby, a bare tree smiles at the sky
and rises directly to the wind:
behold the promise of a fountain fall
to dissipate the fancies on rays
of countless sun colors that knit
the fabrics of a boundless morrow.
© said sadain, jr.  2018


I pride myself at being a part-time writer. I have to live up to that designation, that is why, among other things, I went off the grid for a while, away from this blog 🙂 No apologies there. But I did not expect the off-gridding to take longer than it did, for other more pressing reasons, and for that I apologize. Perhaps I need to change the appellation from being a Part-Time Writer to simply being a Now-You-See-Him-Now-You-Don’t Writer. I’ll take pride in that too 🙂
Thank you for sticking around and reading this blog. Have an enjoyable weekend, everyone.
— SSJ, 2 Nov. 2018
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The Right To Peace and Plenty

The Right To Peace

“It is time all nations and all people live up to the words of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which recognizes the inherent dignity and equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human race.”

— Secretary-General António Guterres 


photo by sasint @ pixabay.com

Continue reading

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a mother’s whisper



image is a mashup of photos and artwork of darksouls1, 41330 and PublicDomainPictures @ pixabay.com 

a mother’s whisper

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


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 

boy wearing gray hoodie

Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on Pexels.com

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