A poem that was born in the midst of contemplation, as lights went out in a room.
What if someone,
Switched off all the lights,
And plunged us,
Into the dark,
Dancing,
In shadows no longer existent,
A dozen pirouettes,
The waltz behind a hymn,
Worries that plagued us,
Now light as a feather.
Matchstick figurines,
Under a sleeping sun,
Puppets,
Dancing in the candlelight,
Stalking,
Always watching,
My trembling shoulders,
A storm stirring,
Threatening,
Cold, sweet kiss,
Of a crisp dagger,
The tempest within,
Might spill over.
Seventeen zero six,
Numbers on a clock,
Letters on pages,
Envelopes from the future,
Faces sketched,
On mirrors, hanging,
Moving screams of an inner-child.
Fame and fortune,
Neither too important,
Handcrafted art,
Free to shout and sing,
Drawing circles in the wind,
One caveat,
The artist remains,
A face in the crowd,
A layman on the street.
Words I wish to shout,
Songs I wish I’d heard,
To dance in the light,
Whilst working,
Ever so quietly,
Clawing away in the shadows.
MARK: I am many things. I am 23 years old. I am Mark Ooi. After crossing paths with Edgar Allen Poe’s The Raven, I am also a poet, a scribe of the voices in my head ─ inspired and captivated by this world we share, the things I see, the thoughts I feel, and the emotions I contemplate.
COUNT-DOWN TO ISSUE 3.5: IN PROGRESS!
To kick-off the count-down, and to give our readers a treat –
MUMBLED WORDS ON A PAGE, a poem by Mark Ooi.. You may seen this poem in ISSUE 3: THE PEOPLE WE MAKE, accompanied with photography by Ong Mui Jin & editing + graphics by Athena Tan
Carpe Bloom 