Some new poems

Love, part one

Yesterday evening
sitting in mozzie-infested garden
green with lush leaves tended to by your loving hands,
we talked as we always do.

How was your day
Were the kids ok
What did you have for lunch?

By the way, I'm doing up my will today;
When I die, you can have my Kenari.

You laughed -- at the thought of the beat-up gift,
not at me dying. I don't want you to die. I'd be depressed.

Me, too, I said.

And then, it was awkward for a while. A long silence
as we contemplated our mortal, vulnerable lives
and living one without the other.



Love, part two

You impress me
with your socio-politico-speak
well-thought observations about
Tun, Najib, DSAI.

I would not envy to be
your debating punching bag, dear,
you have an answer to everything.

I am contented to be your bedroom partner.