Little Cozy Corner

Blue skies and pretty flowers
And little angels that fly above me
All around me, I see lovely colors
An innocent child was I, you see

Innocence was all I had within me
And all that surrounded me
I thought was good and pure
I couldn’t be more wrong for sure

Yet my innocence has been tainted
It left me bruised and battered
It left my body cold and lifeless
How could they be so heartless?

Did not my pleas of mercy reach their ears?
Did not my cries of pain bring on the tears?
Did my struggle not cause a stirring?
Nay, twas my silence which caused the ending

It was my lifelessness, which stop it all
It was my lost innocence, which satisfied them all
I know not why I was the chosen one
But I fear I will never know the outcome

For today I am heading towards the light
With my innocence I soon take flight
With hope that all pain and fear will be washed away
To join the angels and fly with them someday
Yvy @ 22/9/2007

*Written for all the abused and battered children around the world. And dedicated especially to Nurin and the little Kiwi girl who died from physical abuse [How could the people who are suppose to be protecting her from harm use her as a punching bag and when she cried, they hung her on the clothesline and spun her around. They even put her in the dryer!!! I'm really not sure if these are humans or not]. May their killers be [found and] punished harshly. It’s funny how my view has changed ever since Ella was born…it’s really a cruel world out there, eh?

Seeing the tall, coconuts trees swaying in the cool breeze amongst atap roof houses was a norm for me. Running barefooted on muddy roads after a rainy day was something I always looked forward to but was frowned upon by Mum when she caught me frolicking in the mud. I’m sure it did not amuse her to clean me up spick and span, from head to toe after such a day and yet, I always found joy in doing so. Perhaps I knew subconsciously that all this would be lost in the near future due to vast development that nothing and no one could stop.

It was a huge affair for me and the year-end school holidays was something to look forward to every year when I was growing up. Without fail, Mummy would take my younger sister and I back to Butterworth to visit her family. It was always a joy to spend time with Grandma although most of the time she was pre-occupied playing ‘Patience’ in the kitchen with a lighted cigarette dangling loosely from her aged-worn lips. Aaahh…yes, lips that once were luscious red and seductive yet in time, have lost their appeal and yet, I loved them all the same for when they kissed me, it was of pure love. I hardly remember Grandpa for he had passed away much earlier although I have had memory flashbacks of the both of us taking a ride in the trishaw. And Mummy has pictures to prove it too. I guess I do have a pretty good memory.

It was no rich man’s life living in Chain Ferry Road and yet, I felt so much at home and at ease visiting and living in that huge wooden house that my mother called home and grew up in. Although it was big and old, musty-smelling and scary to one as young as I was then, I was always intrigued by its structure especially the attic. Till today, I still wonder what lay beyond those creaky, dark stairs. The furthest I ever got was perhaps 5 very cautious and unsteady steps before I would see myself running helter-skelter in the opposite direction for no particular reason whatsoever. Perhaps it was just my inner chicken rearing its cowardly head.

But what I loved the most was the silver painted 2 seater metal swing that Grandpa placed just beneath the huge mango tree. I spent a lot of time sitting and swinging by myself in that swing. I could spend hours just sitting in that swing. Afternoons were the best times of all as I was sheltered by the tall shady mango tree. I loved just lying down on it and looking up at the gorgeous blue sky between the tree leaves as the cool breeze kept my damp and sweaty skin dry. It was always humid at Grandpa’s…must be all his lovely greens and orchids. He had a really big orchard and was an orchid enthusiast, just like Mummy. I bet she got her green fingers from him. It was common to hear the constant crowing from the big black birds throughout the day. It was something I didn’t fancy at all only because they tend to drop rubbish on my beloved swing and that made me cross many a times. But yet, it is those black crows these days that remind me so much of the days long gone. Every time I hear a crow, I’m instantly transported back to the kampung I once called ‘home’.

It has been at least a decade since I last step foot in Chain Ferry Road or the kampung beyond the main road. Both Grandpa and Grandma have long gone, leaving behind just sweet and warm memories. The government has since taken over the area and many families have been moved, unwillingly I’m sure, to another location or perhaps ‘bought’ over by the local authorities. All that’s left these days are the pre-war foundation poles which kept the houses intact. Everything else is in rubbles. Gone were the days of passing and sharing steaming hot dishes over the wooden divider between neighbours. Gone are the shacks where the night soil man visited. Gone is my poor kampung which I know I will never see again but long live the memories buried deep within my mind and heart.

*A piece of writing that’s going to be submitted to Memoirs Of Malaysia*

Like a candle in the wind
My flame, she flickers
Not knowing when it will die out
Come strong winds, I start to waver
When all is still and calm,
My light shines ever so brightly

The winds of change they come blowing by
Tempting my flame to say goodbye
But my flame, she dances ever so gracefully
Yes, she dances like so with the wind
Blending so perfectly as one
Though impossible as it sounds

Now my flame she stands ever so still
Not wavering, not dancing,
Nothing
My poor flame, what should she do?
Let go, hope to be re-lit?
Or waver, with sad fragility?

My flame, my flame…such is life
Protected, you shine so brightly
Yet when you are free,
How vulnerable you can be…
Yvy @ 24/5/2007

What happens when you forget your bestest-friend-in-the-whole-wide-world’s birthday? You call her up and tearfully tell her how sorry you are that you forgot about her birthday and that no number of excuses could ever be used for such an attrocious act of forgetfulness, that’s what you do. Anyway, that’s what I did.

The minute I realised it, nothing could explain the feeling I felt in my heart and all that came to mind was, ‘Holy Crap!!!! I forgot!!!’ and I was dumb*ucked for more than just a moment. The conversation that followed was a tearful one [yes, I was bawling my eyeballs out.] and truly from the depths of my contrite heart.

Sha, this is for you. I know it may not be anything big but I mean every word of it.

Picture taken from Erlend Mork’s gallery, Do you trust yourself with your dreams?

I was jolted out of my dreamless slumber by what I thought sounded like a rubber band being snapped on paper beside my ear. I looked around my room with groggy eyes only to note that it was still dark outside. The digital alarm clock beside my bedside lamp was blinking 2am, diligently. I groaned in frustration and covered my head with my pillow, praying that proper sleep would soon follow. Before I could even finish saying supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, I gently fell into slumber but only this time, it wasn’t dreamless. Or so I thought.

Sounds of giggles and laughter were clearly ringing my ears. It was all so sudden when I realized that I was running….running in the playground back in my hometown. I remembered it clearly coz right smack in the middle of the field was this blue, metal pyramid-like climbing tower, with many kids surrounding it. Some were climbing up precariously and the less brave stood below looking up with mouths wide opened, in awesome wonder and amazement.

I found myself running but I didn’t why I was running, who I was running from nor where I was running to when suddenly a familiar voice rang out to me, calling me, urging me to run faster, “I’m coming to get you! Faster run…faster run!” the voice called out to me. But instead of being afraid at such a ‘threat’, the voice wasn’t at all frightening. In fact, I found a sudden familiarity in it, a sense of security and at the same time, excitement and the need to keep running as fast as I could. So typical of a child!

I managed to turn my head back to see who it was I kept trying to run away from and I saw him. The face I so longed to see after all these years, the voice that I had missed for more than a decade…it was him. I turned around and saw my Daddy’s laughing face. The kind and handsome face that I would hold close and the rough cheeks that I used to kiss good night everyday before bed. I stood rooted to the ground. I was too shocked to see him in front of me, in the ‘flesh’.

I knew I was standing still but within a splitsecond, it was as if I was watching my childhood being replayed right before my very eyes. It was as if I was on the outside, looking into my memories. I reached out to grab hold of him before he could leave me again but all I got in return was an empty clasp. I tried and tried, again and again, never once wanting to give up trying but alas, it was impossible.

All I could do was just stand there, helplessly watching my Daddy play catch with ‘me’, many years ago. I wanted to cry out to him, to get his attention but not a sound came from my throat. I clutch it, tried my best to clear my throat so that I could call out to him, to once again call out ‘Daddy!’ but nothing. I was exasperated because I couldn’t do anything at all but just stand there, looking like a fool and feeling even worst!

All of a sudden, I felt my body being sucked into a black hole. I couldn’t stand my ground. I was being torn away from the memories I held so dear. I frantically reached out to grab hold of anything that seemed strong enough for me to hang on to but nothing was in sight. I grew more and more desperate and I began to scream for help. I saw my Daddy begin to slowly fade way. I cried out, “NOooooooo!! Don’t leave me Daddy….not again!! Please don’t leave me. I miss you! Come back….come back!!! Noooo….” And for just an instance, I thought I saw him turn around and look at me. His eyes were sad with tears welling in those big old, kind, brown eyes of his. They held emotions I never saw before. No, I didn’t think it up. I know he saw me and I know that he never wanted to leave us but what could he do. God had other plans for him, He has other plans for us.

Suddenly, it was just darkness.

I woke up with such a start. I sat up in bed with cold sweat was pouring out from every pore of my body. I was shaking; I found it hard to breathe. My eyes were swollen with traces of tears still wet on my pillow. My throat parched with thirst, a sure sign that I must have been screaming out loud. The dream was still very much clear and vivid in my mind. It kept repeating constantly in my mind like a broken record player even though I tried to not think about it.

I managed to calm myself down and sunk my heavy head into my tear-soaked pillow. It felt wet and uncomfortable. I tossed and turn, trying to get into a more comfortable position. I ended all curled up, in a fetal position. Surprisingly, I found comfort in that, I don’t know why. The images kept flashing constantly in my mind but the only image that stood out was the one where he turned to look at me. I found it disturbing. Lurid.

I couldn’t get rid of it no matter how hard I tried. It was already 6am with signs of the red sky appearing just beyond the horizon when I finally found myself falling into troubled sleep.

Why such a dream after so long? Did it mean anything? I guess I’ll never know.

Note to self : Never watch Supernatural or Hex before going to bed. That’s just asking for trouble.

Yvy @ 2/6/2006
[The piece written above is partly fiction, partly true. Inspired by Kyel's superb writing on Unacceptable Love.]

If you’re reading my blog now….you’ve been certified a HOTTIE!

Please line up to receive your certification. And yes, you are allowed to gloat about it too. :cowgal:

[Curi from Arth's blog...tee-hee! :grin:]

Special Blogger Poem

It’s been just over a year
And it’s amazing how time flies
Just look at my archives
It grows before my very eyes

As my words gush forth
Like the rushing waters
My mind I have released
Your appetite I hope, appeased

Then I take a look around
And smile because I see
That all my blogger buddies
Are real hotties, believe you me!
Yvy @ 19/5/2006

Oooooo yes, if I find the time I might just pop by to visit Mr. Fun and set the date for my OTHER piece. By the way, I’ll be heading to Penang in search for the perfect bridal bouquet ~ wish me lotsa luck!!