To my hair (A man mourns his loss)

In a fortnight's time it will be September
In a fortnight's time it would have been five years
But I would not take it any further nor grow my hair an inch longer
Thus drunk on vanity which flames my slighted anger
One cold Sunday evening I found myself at the local barber's
To once and for all cut my hair short and be rid of it forever.

There used to be a time when we got along just fine
I have to do little and friends' words were still kind
But Time grew envious of us and nothing I do would appease it
No amount of Dove would suffice nor would it be happy with just Rejoice
When lice made three's a crowd that was the last strand
The problem laid not in the foam, no matter how dear the brand.

But men's desperation outlasts our vanity
And their memory impishly feeds our injuries
I, a mortal recalls helplessly only when it was good
To drown out the insults when my hair had her own mood
All I have now is photos from the times bygone
When my long hair completes me like a crown adorned.

Alas, Time, the cruel joker is also the kindly healer
In awhile my hair grows longer while I weep a little softer
And I will be moved to grow my hair differently and style it a different colour
When we need no more than the daily dove and a little water
Until Time, again on a whim decrees it so
That my new hair grows obstinate and I, weary of it.

Sung hoarse

Come here little sister and keep me company
Scoot a little nearer, sit right next to me
It's ten to twelve and I'm inside on my own
I've boarded up the door before sitting here alone
But now that you've found a way in and then you found me
Do stay awhile and sing to me like a child.

Do you fear the night and chase it like a dog?
Do you kneel before the bright, the artificial sunlight?
I tell you now as a friend, fear not what's unseen
For all you have to fear is all that have been
I tell you now out of love, love not that which is livid
For all you have to fear is fear itself and those that come from it.

You have ceased your lullaby, I didn't realise that
Now restless like a church hooker you will soon take leave
Alas, even the sweetest voice way be sung hoarse
Even the daintiest of whores will soon start acting coarse
When it gets bright I'll force myself to sleep
Then you may leave, for you have another appointment to keep.

Sidewalk

I'm eating on the sidewalk
I eat on the sidewalk cause I need to smoke
I'm eating on the sidewalk alone
I eat on the sidewalk alone cause I can't stand the conversation
I'm eating on the sidewalk with a cat
I eat on the sidewalk because people can't compare to a domesticated pet.

partial nudity

the kind of stuff we see on tv
guns violence partial nudity
the kind of stuff we see on malaysian tv
religion superstition susilawati
after the executioner thumbs out and goes for tea
awani's gonna find something else that rhymes with susilawati.

Against the wall

Line up against the wall
Stack yourselves from short to tall
Kiss each other on the cheek
Dry your tears don't show you're sweak
You may hold hands if you so please
Either way I won't miss
It's just another day at the office
for the ticket conductor to eternal peace

That face

When you can't stand to look at his face
When the sight of him leaves you with a bad aftertaste
It's high time you stop being so close to the mirror
Heck, step out of the room, go walk through the door.

Some people just have that please-sock-my-teeth-in face
And his is ultimately one of them
Though it's not his fault, God made him that way
But isn't He supposed to be kind, that benevolent mind?

All he needs to do is go under the knife
That oughta fix it and turn around his life
If he does it right and there'll be no life turn around
Even if he brings a mirror along six feet underground.

The thief stole in again

I woke up today and my house is a mess again
My socks are mismatched my clothes inside out
And as usual my necktie's hung from the fan in a noose
I'll have to call my boss and tell him the thief stole in again
So I'll take the day off to take care of my house
I'm sure as usual nothing is stolen from me
I don't have a lot and what have are nothing fancy
But she comes in anyway and rearranges things to frustrate me
The funny thing is the thief and I were housemates before
And I used to have a lot more and it was good company
But it was never enough for her and I threw her out the door
And now she comes once in awhile to settle the score

Well it's partly my fault that the thief gets in
I should probably change the lock and get a dog
But I have to admit that I kind of like these nocturnal visitations
At least once in a while I get to alleviate my self-imposed isolation

Post-coital us

Now that we're just airing our sweats off
lying in proximity but no more intimate
I wonder whther u ever think of the postcoital us
When the rubbers been stripped off and silence enters
unwelcomed unwarranted but ultimately expected

it sure is awkward lying naked beside a relative stranger
who's been sharing the bed for the last five and a half years
will taking a knee fix this customary awkwardness i wonder?
Or chain a perfect woman to a perfectly free man


it would be nice if we still have our clothes on
those lurid garments streaked with Jewish names
without them now we look plain don't you think so?
without them we now look rather exposed dont you think so?


we have ascended the romantic frontier by climbing on top of each other
downhill downhill we now roll never reaching the top again foreverafter