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I could bottle pain

watch it sail away

capture sadness

let it soar

gather disappointment

see it burn

seek selective amnesia

sieve away the bad

rationalise persuade


yet in the core of my very being

the dull aches keeps throbbing

robbied fobbed off

powerless defenceless

for being mere human

failing to live up to expectations

imperfect flawed unworthy


Different kinda pain

for me on this my 21st wedding anniversary

(thanks go to Andrew Urquhart, fellow blogger for suggesting the title)


feeling kinda blue wanna

     drown in the ocean of forgetfulness

resolutely slam that door full

speed ahead to infinity and



how come you can wave the

‘past’ goodbye with such

abandon glee no trace of

sadness sprinting  to embrace



Did it mean nothing to you

marriage me us our

love i was there for the

duration good bad ugly



Different kinda pain 

sixth year alone cross your

mind that summer’s day the

     eighth of eighth month



This time tears all

cried out no searing paralysing

jab just dull lingering ache

hunkers down to fight another



I will remember our happy 

union till last breath not

relegate to just another

day for it meant the world to



Different kinda pain


loss (2)

like days blown by autumn leaves
swept by the breeze the pebble
sinking to the bottom of the sea
snow melting into the ground
memories edited distorted collected
full circle we have come nothing new
under the sun raging crashing waves
no hidden secret buried deep on the
ocean floor loss smiles beckons a
long lost friend reunited I embrace
thee cease be for you are the fabric
of life men come and go and stuff
what sifts through the giant colander
of time space is what’s worth
holding on family mates life itself


Like a samurai sword piercing to the core
murdering your reality tearing your security
blanket to shreds all you believed in sabotaged
with the suicide bomber yet hope flies
above circling refusing to abandon you grumpy
as hell licking your wounds rock rolled
firmly against the entrance curtains drawn
brave the man who dares storm the barricade

Memory Lane

Poem a day challenge #3 So what is wrong with my love


I will swallow
All sorrow
I will borrow
Courage not

Walking wounded

I’ve truly become one of the locals; mission accomplished.  Upgraded to a mummy from crash dummy, neck and shoulders wrapped in bandages with only the herbal medicine pack hidden on my back.

I’d thought I could escape the torture with the excuse of thunderstorms but these abated in the late afternoon.  I rang hoping they’ll say come tomorrow we’re closing soon, no chance, this is HK remember, nope open till 9pm.  Running out of excuses I dutifully turned up at the torture chamber.  Familiar with the routine I entered the dim dungeon only to find Sze Fu No. 1 catching a bite with the lull and the sadistic one having a nap in the side room.  The closed door was highly unusual and another victim and I wondered what was going on.  She whispered conspiratorially, ‘He’s been in there a long time’.  I added, ‘Must be a very serious case!’  ‘He might be sleeping …’  she speculated.  Just that split second the door opened and The God of Prosperity appeared asking, ‘And what’s wrong with sleeping?  This is my place, I can do what I like.’  Nothing wrong with his ears.

It turns out he’s the Top Doc in the joint.  His name is above the shop door and have certificates proudly displayed as a registered Chinese Doctor a the front.  Hence he can click necks and do bear lifts.  Henceforth his nickname will be God of Health instead.

By now I knew the drill.  Put herbal pack in microwave, turn dial to the red line, wait for the ping, put in a fabric bag and roll.  Exactly the same procedure with SzeFu No.1 but with shoulders too.  I nearly suffered a coronary when told there would be a charge for each shoulder.  Some people can get away with just the one.   Mmm not gonna have much change from the $1000 I’d just taken out.

But I’ve started, so I’ll finish.  And my special subject is Pain.  I tried to play the ‘poor me’ card: unemployed, divorced, middle aged woman, alone with no family or friends here. But no can do.   Informed I was getting  super value.

Fast forward to the left shoulder.  The wise Master declared my arm stiff from having  all the lymph nodes removed.  I know, I was there.  Without knowing GOH had touched a raw nerve.  To lose a part of you which defines your femininity at the tender age of 36 with no family history is about as truamatic as it gets.  For me.  Well meaning people remind me how lucky I am compared to the starving kids in Africa.  True it sucks for them but that don’t take away my suffering .

I clung onto GOH like driftwood, drowning in my own brand of hell.  The boss to his credit did not bat an eyelid as if this was perfectly normal.  I spurted out my sorry tale for the millionth time and the Wise One told me, ‘It’s not him who rejected you but you who don’t want him anymore.  He was too stupid to appreciate your love.   Better to  find out  you married the wrong man now than on your deathbed.  You are young enough to begin anew.’

He surprised me with his tenderness presenting me with a box of pastries.  I cried harder.   He went on to invite me to lunch with them the next day.   The tears kept flowing …  Even grumpy overworked Chinese Doctors can show you compassion when the man you would have taken a bullet for didn’t.

I knew what he said made sense in my head but for the very first time my heart conceded.  I came to have my neck and back sorted and left with a mended heart.  Chinese Doctors Rule O.K.  I am a believer.

Another first

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