ArunDitha (Deborah Emmanuel)'s Blog, page 2

Anti-Establishment Poem

An anti-establishment poem is on the loose spraying itself onto institution walls and spitting rhymes on radio in Lee Kuan Yew’s dead voice, hazing parliament with clouds of controversy and oozing out from between cashmere carpets and marble tiles to slip up anyone in couture shoes. The anti-establishment poem doesn’t mention The Man. The Man … Continue reading →

Active Citizen

Lets the hawker clearing aunty manage his tray so she can develop higher self-efficacy Eats the leftovers from all of his friends because he thinks of the starving children Spits all his spit in a garbage bin because he is an ACTIVE CITIZEN because he is an ACTIVE CITIZEN Uses his Cold Storage bags for … Continue reading →

313@Somerset

In 313@Somerset I feel like a little fish, impatient in currents of sale-hungry bodies, streaming through fluro halls of golden tongued cash registers swimming through heaven for possession where nothing is priceless where souls forget they are free. Formless lives get distracted by steely pots and shiny jewels people queue in chains they cannot break, … Continue reading →

SHE

This poem uses lyrics from the Charles Aznavour song She. She may be the face I can’t forget The trace of pleasure or regret May be my treasure or the price I have to pay She may be the song the summer sings May be the chill the autumn brings May be a hundred different … Continue reading →

Articulation

The inception is an image. Sparks in synapses, implosion of the heart, some flowing gash in the soul. The inception is an idea. Floating dust in the garden where truth lives until caught by flashlight, absorbed through the flesh of fingertips, travelling up the arm like a heart attack the pain of learning that articulation … Continue reading →

sometimes it feels like you are dying

you cry too loudly in movies when people die wish the dark velvet cinema chairs would swallow you whole or at least hold you tighter in their soft arms  you walk home along the highway branches throwing shadows that grab at your feet shoes crunching leaves life sucked the moisture from  you try not to … Continue reading →

The Collector

I was always a collector. Stickers placed lovingly in plastic-skinned books swapped for a felt unicorn beckoning with it’s horn. Stacks of magazines at my bedroom door in glossy-lipped deceit, glaring white teeth, speech-bubbled thoughts women are meant to think. It was about owning something better, the inculcation of consumerism, bags and books and clothes … Continue reading →

Listen

There is no creature more powerful than music, voracious collector of sound and feeder of feeling, capturing the beast of life with strums of her stringy tongue, beating down halls with heavy drums of her feet, reaching through walls with silk sighs of despair, uncoupling doomed lovers with strokes from her fingers. She is a … Continue reading →

Broken Seashells

I write pages about my dead mother like I’ve no faith in the living, like you are all broken seashells slicing through the soles of my feet as I stalk the road to reach a God who doesn’t exist. Misinformed angels said i’d find him in my being, and a placard emblazoned with The Answer … Continue reading →

Hey Mr Pickpocket Man

Standing in Legian Bali my pretty jumpsuit on, intoxicated skunk I partied till the dawn. Got a bunch of new friends, beer can in the hand, and i’m feeling so excited m’feet forget to land.   It’s schoolies week, Australian kids out to play. I try not to growl at them, as they barf in … Continue reading →