Monday, May 24, 2010

The Love For What You Hide Is Growing Like The New Born


Dedicated to the most beautiful birthday twins that I know.
Lysandra and Lavinia.


I.
Hide. Hide behind these words
They are a shield for my ego, my precious ego,
easily bruised and so sensitive.
You could fill it until it stretches and grows
and yet it would fit in one clenched hand
like a single gold dollar
of a boy in a video game arcade.
And that boy would wander,
looking at every screen, every ticket-spitting machine
wishing he could win some meaning.
He would ask, what drives you in this place?
And shrill alarms bells and spinning flashing lights
would reply and he would never know
if they were the answer or the distraction.

II.
I know two women,
born nine minutes apart
Their eyes are strong,
nourished and trained;
But unlike the twenty-something executive with a gym membership,
meaningless repetition with polished metal and black numbered weights.
No. Picture the labourer in the humidity,
carrying a thick stink, covered in the raw sheen of perspiration
his muscles the by-products of actual labour, straining with purpose.
See life's necessity chiseled into these women's faces.
They have never backed down,
I believe they don't know how.

III.
Pride props up her chin.
Confidence her second skin
She dresses dangerously.
No one is safe, especially not me
Her smile is oil,
rare, precious, fueling my moods
Diamonds highly desired
and yet unaffordable.

IV.
Win all the attention and affection in the room
Send ripples down their spines
with your laughter, like bells rejoicing,
like peace from a mountain stream
whispering,
Everything will be alright
because you are here, you are happy.
You are the reminder of hope.

- Daryl Goh

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