Accidental Absorption

The void beckons with silvered hands,
Glimmers of light that have not yet been soaked into the
Blackness. A universe, absorbed into the dark,
Nothing to show for it but the floating certificate of ‘well done for caring’ that is slowly making its way across galaxies
until it bumps into a passing comet and combusts from the heat of the racing piece of rock.

The void is always there. You will walk into it in time.
And the time approaches.


Tasteful Tradition

The steady drip of stained-brown drops

Echo rippling ‘tween the round warmed walls

And the memories of this act, done thrice a day

As constant as the passing of time (instead of rewinding the clock, they refill the pot),

Swirl with sugar and milk added to taste.

Drip. (time passes)

Drip. (Now it is this morning, and the feet are still snug from their ensconcment in blankets)

Drip. (Now it is yesterday’s tea break, scone crumbly-fresh from the oven and plum jam tangy-sweet)


Personally, I love the smells of tea; tangy, sweet and varied. I adore drinking mint tea or lemon verbena tea with a spoonful of sugar (this is not real tea: it does not contain caffeine. It is simply made of mint/lemon verbena steeped in hot water).

But I can’t actually stand the taste of tea. Not Earl Grey, not fruit teas, nothing…which is really sad, because drinking tea is a well established tradition filled with nostalgia, memories, and collectivity.

Does anyone know of a way to acclimatise oneself to teas, or know of a tea that you think I may enjoy?

What is your favourite tea and what does it remind you of?

– Let’s call me Lily



Shrivelled Shoe Imprints

Recently in English, we’ve been crafting creative writing, and so I took the opportunity to edit a few of my poems here on wordpress.

Because I’m sentimental, I’m keeping the originals (unless the changes are really minor) and just re posting the vamped-up poem in a new post…like this one!! Some will keep their titles, or if I can’t think of anything, or am proud of the title I did manage to come up with, they’ll stay the same 🙂

original version can be found here

Fallen leaves litter the ground
Broken and crumpled,
Strewn across the paving.

In spring they grew from small, green, curled up bundles,
In summer they unfurled and flourished
Metamorphosing into shades of vivid orange and dull, burnt brown
As autumn approached crisply, with dewy and frostbitten feet.

Winter arrived, and the leaves on the ground
Lay pressed upon stone
Patterned with the shoe prints of passers by.




Watchful Eyes Survey


Sometimes Time blindsides me

Twirling dust into my face

‘Till when next I look the world has changed;

Has already played its ace.


Time has passed me by once more,

It stalks, long legs outstripping mine

As it watches the world with universe eyes

Galaxies flecking within the divine.


Time can be lethal;

It slips under rugs and hides in folds of skin

It cannot be delayed. But.

It can also take you for an awesome spin.