john tiong chunghoo
Alone She Puffs - Poem by john tiong chunghoo
alone she puffs
smoke covers her face
trails the night air
she hides behind
each night under
an inch of powder
lips coloured like roses
the night aids
her cameleon existence
groping in beds
that witness sea and sea
of swirling passion
excited real and
to satiate musculine wants
wave and wave of
escalated by teutonic desires
that always end in earthshaking explosions
that rattle the senses
the musty sweaty smell
so familiar now
feel like home covers
a night away from them
she feels a page
of her favourite book unread
slowly she learns to fit
into the irregular
to pick up the pieces
when she falls
what mom told her long ago
the smoke envelopes her face
before trailing off into the glittering sky
alone she puffs waiting for the next loner
carrying a dream to straighten up her tangled life
in her own tangled ways
Like Dust I Rise
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
Maya Angelou #6
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