Turning 3-0 (and counting...)

Looking through my fingers
My eyes are squeezed shut

Fast approaching
uh-oh
‘round the corner
big three-oh

Not too tight
Careful the crow feet
cos

Fast approaching
uh-oh
‘round the corner
big three-oh

Things don't sit well no more
I'm not talking about just clothes,
nah-uh

Fast approaching
uh-oh
‘round the corner
big three-oh

Can't slam them brakes
Shit! I'm careening out of control
oh no!

Can't stop, will crash
uh-oh
'round the cornder
big three-oh


Petal P. Rose

Apple Peel

Oh your thin skin
I peel you back. expose
some parts
brown and bruised indicative
of a journey
same like mine but different
the more i uncover
delight fills my eyes and the
heart congested with emotions
stomach all twisted
i am undecided
it's just skin, uncovered

maybe i shouldn't have.
put it back
tuck it in the edges
better the unknown than this
raw and tender i see
its networks and inner workings
i stare, can't tear these eyes away
recalling the times when it
was perfect
skin, so thin.
right before I peeled you back.

Petal P. Rose

An Affair

My love affair started as young as when I was about 3 or 4. Oh, love affair with words, that is. My parents used to read me all the time back then. Already the cracks appeared but I was too young to understand. Anyway.....

My parents are not highly educated but they somehow knew the power of words and doggedly read me every night till I was old enough to do it for myself. I had books from the likes Brothers Grimm and Hans. Simple stories like Puss In Boots and the Gingerbreadman. I remember being so annoyed with the pig in the Gingerbreadman. He was so greedy!! Also being a Muslim then, it was drilled into our heads that pigs are the worst things on earth. Armed with this bias, I got very annoyed at how the pig was chasing after the gingerbreadman and finally got a chunk of him (I think). I wanted the Gingerbreadman to be whole and uneaten, undefiled. The page that showed the pig - I crushed and even tore it out. I was that upset! I think I was a bit more than annoyed, you think? I wish now that I had kept the book but I threw it out along with my childhood.

It didn't matter to me that we didn't have money to buy me new books every now and then. The few I had, I read from cover to cover, over and over. I joined the public library service and they had mobile libraries that I used to go to. Yep, I am a mobile library kid. I fell in love with the princesses of 1001 Arabian Nights with its handsome princes and running along with Laura, Mary and Carrie, I lived in the Indian Territory, feeding and caring for Pet and Patty.

I fell in love with the voluptuous sounds of "o", and "teen" sounded mean; it was only much later that I know how it was like being a teen and why it sounded mean. The sound "tarp" makes, music to my ears, like raindrops falling on attap roofs.

These words swirl in my head, floating and greeting each other as they go past. That's how sentences are made. Sometimes it comes out garbled but it's all sorted by the time it hits the funnel that is the mouth. That is why I love to write - I think I'd go mad if I don't. All these words, in my head, filling it up and clogging it. Writing - a cathartic release. A quiet time for me and me alone.

Petal P. Rose

All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go....

My friend was going on a flight out from Singapore to Bangkok yesterday evening. My handy-dandy N70 rings. "Hello, I just wanted to say goodbye."said he. I said, "Oh, right....have a good one home, take care and I'll see you again soon." "Tell me something........why the hell did they take away my 3/4 full cans of shaving cream and deodorant?" he asked.

Now - I know my friend pretty well. Of course, he's not asking a stupid question or being anal (this time, anyway). There was more to it.....

"Umm...it's part of the regulations now after the bombing thing....it's liquid-ish..." "Right....so they took away my shaving cream and deodorant but didn't take away my knife. How the hell am I now going to hijack the plane without those two essential items?!"

I was in the office, it was mostly silent....I tried so hard to suppress it....but I burst out laughing loudly. For those who know me personally, you know how silent I can be when I laugh. Not! I was in a spasm.

"I was going to take the shaving cream and stick it right under the pilots' collar and say - stop this plane or I'll cream you. See this deodorant? Well...now now...who is in control.." he added with a sinister cackle.

Turned out that he didn't know he had a knife on him too. He grabbed the bag from the office to stuff some of the documents he had and found it accidentally in there, AFTER he was checked in and had his shaving cream and deodorant confisticated.

It was all related to me in a very comical manner but once the laughter subsided it is an issue. If he had meant harm, really, the passengers of that flight would be dead by now. How could they have missed a knife? It's not just a human error - we have metal detectors at the airports, don't we? So how now, brown cow? Should we start worrying?

Petal P. Rose

Raising a stink

I failed to get a seat – again,
too many people on the train.
We're stuck in a tunnel;
everybody's sighing;
we're not moving.
I breathe in –
'Let me know your peace and grace.
'I breathe out –
'And help me share it with the people here.'
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
For the sake of my sanity.
For the sake of your kingdom.
Amen

- Author Unknown

And so I stepped onto the train. As usual, it was crowded. I stood at my usual spot, at the centre of where one carriage connects to the other, just by that door that will lead me out with no trouble, where the other door of another train awaits me as I switched trains, every mundane morning of my working life. I was plugged into my Creative MP3 player (though, I need an IPod...) whilst trying to also look like an intelligent monkey with the thick novel in my right hand. I flipped to the page that was dog-eared. Blissfully unaware of my surrounding, I leapt into the pretend world (for me, unfortunately not for others) of violence, corruption, sex and drama - exactly how a book set in India should be....but was rudely awakened by the stink that was so violently thrusted into my brain, jarring it out of it's semi-fantasy mode. "W-T-F!", I cursed, almost silently but not silent enough for those packed in tightly with me. I looked around for the possible criminal. Everyone looked like "oh, nothing is bothering me...it sure smells nice in here..wonder where I can buy that scent!" whilst I was almost gagging and reaching for the oxygen mask I wished I had.

What is it with these people?! Do they not know the existence of things such as deodorants, parfums, body spray, etc etc? How about toothbrushes and toothpastes? Come on, we are in Singapore - we can afford to take a shower in the morning before heading out the door, can't we? Does personal hygiene exist for these people? What was that? You need to look it up? www.dictionary.com, folks! I have been on trains where apart from the bedroom smell, there's also the smell of ammonia, amongst other things....It's also quite amusing to note the expressions of other commuters when someone lands a stink bomb. Most of them pretend that nothing is wrong and me? If alone, I make faces and exaggerated gestures of disgust....if in company, "Whooooaaaa...Who the fuck did that!" accompanied by more exaggerated gestures of disgust. I know we are "living" in a tight space whilst commuting to our final destinations, but please, spare a thought for others.

Perhaps one of the lessons to be taught by the Government when they do the campaign for a gracious society is this - personal hygiene. I can see the big banners "Personal Hygiene - Towards a More Gracious Society". Watsons or Guardian Pharmacy can jump on the bandwagon and provide free samples. P&G can give away their oh-so-cool new Gillette razors, OralB, hey hey, toothpastes, toothbrushes, floss....The different medical and dental clinics can take part and educate the public of the health risks of not keeping good personal hygiene, we can have demonstrations and roadshows...'Strip' and 'Browhaus' will provide free waxing services...another area would have an Ayuverdic clinic set up to clean from the inside out....The cosmetic companies can come in and promote their new perfumes....So much potential!!

Funny that being gracious has to be taught by a body rather than at home. Shame shame...

Petal P. Rose

I swallow

Too much food on my plate

oh, this buffet of conflicting choices

heaped on by well-meaning people

alright, so greed got the better of me

still, too much food on my plate

variety to suit my palate

sweet, salty, juicy, sour

tidbits and some just desserts

it's just too much food on my plate

like a cow, i graze the field

pushed it round with my fork

but the amount stays the same!
still, to much food on my plate!

pausing momentarily to pick

a morsel i nibble

i spit it out, revolted by the taste

sour bile rise now in my throat

darn, this food on my plate!

sweet water i pour

quelling the rise of indignation

i swallow it because

it's my fault, i've got too much food on my plate

Petal P. Rose

Ching ching ching bling bling blink

Caught betweeen a stone and a hard rock, she walks in circles seeking refuge. Her head was in chaos. There's so much she doesn't understand. No, take that back. She understands things - just that she doesn't understand how something SO simple takes alot to be understood by others; especially him. She doesn't think she's ultra smart - in fact, she still has a long way to go in that aspect and no doubt, it will not complete even at death. The only thing conclusive and certain in this world is death.

She dreads going "home". She thinks skeptically, the person who came up with "home sweet home" and "home is where the heart is" obviously had a rose tinted pair of glasses or perhaps her dark glasses on. She listens to the sounds of the neighbours getting ready for their evening. She imagines the mother in the kitchen, warming up her food, getting it ready for her husband and children. Smells of fresh soap wafted by. She inhales till her lungs feel as though it would burst, in the hopes of reliving a memory that was so long ago. Mother would always warn her that her father's on the way home and would make her take a shower to present herself, clean, to greet the bacon carrier. Shaking her head clear, she flits from one apartment block to another.

Is it difficult to prioritise? "I am too young to be parenting", she thinks. "Yet, I have to take the reigns. No one else would or could for that matter." For every 3 steps she takes forward, it ends with her taking 10 steps back. Contrary to most situations of being trapped in a corner, she feels trapped in the centre, with the corners pointing straight at her, with no way to dodge it. Damn if you do, damn if you don't. "I think it's called "checkmate" in chess?"

Trudging home, she hopes the newspaperman has been to collect his dues. She told him to call at 7.30pm today. Her stomach rumbles. Her resolve for diet melts away..."how am I going to lose weight at this rate?!!" "Is there anything that will go my way this year - AT ALL?!" "What about some ching ching ching....what about some bling bling bling...." she sings to herself.....

Petal P. Rose