The Stronghearted

Always remember that the crowd that applauds your coronation is the same crowd that will applaud your beheading. People like a show. - Terry Pratchett.

People flock from one show to the next as fleetingly as seasons come and go. But there had been certain individuals who stayed to watch the show and applaud it, however unlike the other people in the crowd, who have long gone. These individuals stayed because they wanted to. They liked it. They felt a kinship for this particular show.

Here, a congregation of the strong hearts, for they were once wounded and have fallen with their faces planted on the muddy ground, but got up again.

They understood this.

They understand.

And they vow not to be a 'people', but a 'person'.

Family of Dogs

You said it yourself.

"It's a dog-eat-dog world. Deal with it."

Oh yeah?

Well, I'm not a harmless little puppy anymore.

I'm a big, mean bitch trained to bite back.

Even you.

Deal with that.

Flowery Death

I smiled at him when he first stepped in.
It was an invitation for him to sit next to me.
He smelled nice, like flowers.
It was a nice Friday night to go out.
But he was alone.

As the bus moved,
I worked out a way to start a conversation,
but I couldn't find the right words,
so I stayed silent until we reached the train station,
where we missed the first train,
and had to wait for the second one.

I asked where he was going,
and he replied,
"Just going out for a drink or two,
then, straight back home,"
I nodded. I understood.
But he was alone.

The figure that followed behind him,
from the bus,
It was waiting.

He smelled nice.
He smelled a flowery death.

He was not alone.

Mistaken

Why? Why do you have to lash out at me for trying to do something good? Why am I always being seen as the bad guy when all I wanted was to do good? Do you really want me to go rogue? Would you really like it better if I really did become the villain? Is that what you want?

What the fuck do you want from me?!

They who created me

"Damn it! Deal with it! Learn how to like it!" he shouted as he pounded on the dining table. "It disgusts me to see you disliking this and that. Be a Malay, will you?" I stared at the nasi lemak in front of me; a meal I don't even like.

It's not my fault I don't like it. I don't like it, so I don't like it. What the hell do you want me to do? Why don't you like pizza or pasta? They're all foods. It doesn't matter which culture made it. I never denied my Malay heritage, even though I don't eat 'Malay foods'. Heck, I keep boasting that I'm Malay. I am damn proud of it, but how would you know what my thoughts are? We don't talk. You don't know me. You say you do, but you don't.

After all my 20 years of existence, you still don't know what I like and dislike? It goes to show how much we actually take time to communicate with each other. Same goes to your wife, who keeps serving me foods I don't like, more than those I actually like. Speaking of her...

"What do you want to do next? Do you want to marry?" she asked in a kind voice. I almost broke out into a grin to say, "Yes, I want to wait for him," but she cut me off. "I'll find you a nice, rich, non-criminal man for you to marry." She said all this while stroking my head gently, like it's a good thing. How could she? "He's not a criminal," I muttered, as she left.

Swans (Life After Death)

Swans, swans,
Swans sing songs,
All night long,
Who knew how warm the islands were,

While the frogs look on,
It's what the birds prefer,
And it's still warm after the sun has gone,

I woke up thirsty the day I died,
And the tide was swirling,
My mouth is so dry,
And all I see is sea to shining seas,

Swans, swans,
Swans sing songs,
All night long,
Who knew how warm the islands would be,

And who knew just how much,
The sky covers me,
It makes you forget what it means to be free ,

I climbed into the blowhole,
In the ribs I found you,
With a wick, we lit a flame,
Now look at the smoke that it blew,

The mouth is so wide,
Yet all I see is sea,
And azure sky,
A little wave and ebb tide,

Rivers leak,
Salt seeps in,
Heals wounds,
Winds pry apart,

Swans, swans,
Swans sung songs,
Till the morning dawned on us,
And the sun-smudged peach moon still hung loose ,

Bones, bones,
Bones groan,
The sparrows in the trees we leave them for,
They love the marrow,

I'm thankful for my life,
I'm thankful for my life.

- Islands

Conditioned Consumption

Conditioned consumption without question,
So far removed from nature's laws,
It seems we've lost direction,
We indulge ourselves with poisons,
Desecrate ourselves with toxins,
And laugh in the face of death for the sake of convenience,
We reject the essentials, just consume what we like,
Refined processed contaminants which we've been fed all our lives,
Excessive packaging waste prepackaged for land fill,
We pollute our bodies, we destroy the earth,
Contamination of a sacred temple,
We defile ourselves and we wonder why,
We are they way we are the way we are,
Crash course for self destruction,
We remove all traces of nutrients that protect us from disease.

- Mr Zaki,
  Life drawing artist/lecturer