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Friday 19 October 2012

A Woman to Avoid

There's a kind of woman, all thinking men should avoid
The pretty, coy and acquiescent type

Her prettiness is nice to look at
But may not tell the whole story

Her coyness may seem adorable
But is actually social ineptness

Her acquiescence may be subservient
But could be unvoiced disagreement

That someday will come back to bite

Find a woman who's prettiness
Stems from a glow, a kind of disposition

Find a woman who's coyness
Means well from less than more

Find a woman who's acquiescence
Is actually an act of agreement, not surrender

That helps to move your lot along in life

A woman who has bandwidth
A woman who has intelligence
A woman whose judgement you can trust

A woman can be all that and yet
Be seemingly pretty, coy and acquiescent

A woman I once knew but now lost

- by TC Lai

Wednesday 10 October 2012

What is Happening to Me?

What is happening to me?

I used to see a woman for what she is

Her intelligent eyes; her purposeful lips; and her curious nature

Now, my eyes seek out a svelte bottom; a fluted ankle; a perky breast

What is happening to me?

I know I don't love them less

I know I don't respect them less

I just seem to appreciate them in parts

What IS happening to me?

It does not seem to matter who

Whether she is smart, talkative or soulful; Or careless with her affections

I am drawn, like a man who loves his designer togs, furniture, and gadgets

For in them too exist many planes of beauty seen from near, far, and askew

Really, what is happening to me?

In the past, I would gladly hold on to a woman I could love for an eternity

If I could love her smile, her voice, her little gestures. I could overlook her less than perfect sum

A woman that I would cuddle on a rainy day, tease and doodle

What is happening to me?

That I am now content to wax lyrical of just her and her certain features

That I don't mind her being silent to me, clueless or blank

Has age turned, changed me?

To things just pretty and candy

What's happening to me?

Is this what Second Childhood is all about

Where once I was also taken by things pretty, perky, and sharp?

Of a time that's uncomplicated; that was happy; and yet, oh, so gratifying still?

A time of infatuation

What is happening to me?

That the scent of a woman could draw me along, float me along - drunk

Is it because I am old but young; old and still longing; seeking?

Or am I like a ill old man grasping at pills

A pill that's shaped like a svelte behind; a pill that's shaped like fluted bones

A pill that's shaped like cupped flesh

So that I may live again

What is happening to me?

That I seek such new and strange ways to love

- by TC Lai

Friday 5 October 2012

I've Seen A Death

I walk up from the sea in clothes of weeds

A man sits by a rock

"And what wakes you," he asks

"And what idle thoughts bring you here," I reply

We look at each other for a while

Thinking familiar yet unknown thoughts

We pistol finger each other as if to say, "Touche."

He continues to smoke a cigar

And I continue to walk up the beach

An imprint. An imprint in the sand

A shadow that's not born of a shifting sun

Had I lain there for so long?

A woman comes and places a flower by it

She is in tears and full of kindness

"Someday," she says, "I will also be a shadow that's dead to time."

I scoop up a handful of sand and drop it on the figure

Where the mouth should be

The sand falls but never builds

Where does it go?

There is depth in darkness and I have just seen it

It should be strange but I am not surprised

The lady does not move nor seems to be affected

I am after all just a mess of weeds on the beach

How tall am I? I wonder

Why, just a moment ago....

I peek through the weeds and see shuttered light

The lady is also looming tall

Did I just shrink?

Water now washes over me and air bubbles away from my mouth

Then my lungs and other orifices

I struggle but entangle myself even more

And then I float and is washed ashore

The shadow that was there is a shadow no more

- by TC Lai

Wednesday 3 October 2012

Trapped

I stand under a tree and a branch cracks my head.

I go to the hospital but catch something else.

I was healthy but now am very sick.

I lay in bed as my life ebbs away.

A priest comes to bless my soul.

I say, "Father, no need. There isn't a god in the world that can save me."

"But son," the priest says, "It's never too late."

The priest man, he doesn't under this sick man.

"It is not salvation I want," I whisper.

"It's simply the medicine that I need."

The priest he hears but still prays.

The nurses stand by just in case.

A girlfriend stands and watches.

"Wait," I say to her. "Aren't you dead?"

A nurse turns to stare but her look is blank.

My girlfriend speaks and her voice is missed.

"It's not your time yet. All will be well."

She turns and walks away.

A bright light and all is normal again.

My heart is weak and stops.

A nearby machine wakes and screams.

An alarm has gone off.

The nurses rush over; the doctors rush over.

They pump me with syringes, fire me with shocks.

I see all this but is not afraid. Not when one is floating and detached.

But soon I am sucked back in.

I choke and wake and grip my bed.

So, that's what it is like to die, even for a few seconds.

Slowly the pain ebbs; slowly the days pass.

I get better and leaves the hospital.

I stand under a tree and an egg drops.

The egg cracks and a life ebbs....even before it has begun.

But I am alive and yet a life I have not.

When, I ask, are you going to start?

I walk away from the tree and a car cracks my leg.

I go to the hospital.....

- by TC Lai