29th May 2025

 I cry for the people of Gaza,

Getting shot in the legs 

For stealing food

Or getting killed 

For looting food warehouses

Stocked to the rafters

With enough food supplies 

And humanitarian aid boxes 

To feed thousands of hungry people 

For a month

Because here in Malaysia 

We have so much food,

Perhaps a bit too much,

And so much money,

Perhaps a bit too much,

That we can all go sit down in nice restaurants 

And order nice restaurant food,

Half of which we eat

And half of which we leave on our plates

For the strays in the back lane,

If the kitchen staff were thoughtful enough,

Or for the garbage bag collectors

The following morning.

I cry for the people of Gaza

Who get shot by their own people

For stealing food 

In a food-scarce land

Ravaged by war

Because here in Malaysia,

Even our cats have so much food 

Half of it goes to waste.

22nd May 2025

 It was this very river 

Into which you were cast,

Wrapped up in your burial shroud,

The day you died

About a year ago.

If you are in heaven,

As you must surely be,

As were all cats,

Being pure of heart,

Ask God to bless the others at home

And heal them of their afflictions

If it pleases him

Or not

It it pleases him 

To look the other way instead.

You were sorely missed, 

My Eve, 

My Yeva (Єва)*.

All I have left of you, 

Apart from the photos and videos,

Were your children,

Calicoco-Jean, your daughter,

Oyen, her son,

Agape, your son,

And all your other grandchildren and great-grandchildren,

The ones that have survived.

I think it was Somalia,

Another son of yours,

Somalia, remember (?), 

Whom I bumped into yesterday evening

As I made my way through the side lanes of the neighborhood,

Heading towards the main road,

Where I would begin my evening run.

It seemed to recognize me,

From the way it didn't run off as I approached it,

Calling it by name,

Somalia.

Not so skinny now either

Like it used to be, 

Hence its name,

Somalia.

It was that Chinese broker lady's cat now, 

Or one of them

For many cats she had,

In front as well in the back lane behind.

Agape used to give Somalia a hard time,

Both being boys and boy cats being boy cats,

Probably why it packed its bags and said goodbye.

I didn't know why I wanted to come here,

To this very spot,

But now that I'm here,

I do.

I should've died the day you died. 

Eve, my Yeva ((Єва)*.

I've said it before and I'll say it again,

Eve, my Yeva ((Єва)*.

I should've died the day you died.

*Ukrainian for 'Eve'.