10th April 2017

Italian Eyes,

In which all of the world's beauty

And all of its pain

Is contained,

Its beauty as reflected in the perfectly sculpted contours of your face,

Its pain as concealed within,
Piercing me with such intensity
That I am mesmerized and troubled and bewildered and wonderstruck,
All at the same time,
Such is your power, 
Such is your magic, 
Such is your magnificence,
Italian Eyes.

[photograph used with permission graciously granted by Anna Clara Passarelli]
 [copyright owner and photograph model]

29th October 2016

My two boys have left home

As boys were wont to do
Once all grown up were they and boys no more

And like most boys their age
As well as some girls too

Their roots were like old garments they once wore:

Forgotten like the past

And lost somewhere in time

So far back that remembering's a chore.

One loves climbing rooftops,

The other loves to fight
But doesn't mind a cuddle now and then

Unlike the rooftop cat
Who struggles while being kissed
As most boys would before the count of ten
But it wouldn't be so bad
If they did what people do
With telephones or postcards and a pen.

14th June 2016

Oh, how my heart doth bleed

To see my two boys fight
To wear the feline crown in this house.

There used to be a time

When they together played

As children growing up in this house.

Oh, how my heart doth bleed

To see my two boys fight

To be the feline king in this house.

There used to be a time

When they together ate

As children growing up in this house.

Oh, how my heart doth bleed
To see my two boys fight
To be the feline boss in this house.

There used to be a time
When they together napped

As children growing up in this house.

Oh, how my heart doth bleed

To see my two boys fight
To be top feline dog in this house.

8th April 2016

Like celebrities updating their Instagram accounts -

Been here, been there, did this, did that -

For the benefit of their legions of adoring fans

Were some of my Facebook friends

Who by the way were mere mortals like you and me

Which really made me wonder:

Did I really need Facebook friends such as them

Who were surely better off hobnobbing with English lords and ladies

While having tea together in a picturesque English garden

Instead of reminding me of how bourgeois my boring existence was

With their city-hopping hotel-swapping Facebook status updates?

Oh, but of course, that's what the 'unfollow' button is for:

To remain Facebook friends with flamboyant socialite types,

To quote an example,

Without having the intimate details of their flamboyant lives

Unsolicitedly shoved in front of your face

Every time you logged in to update your own status

With yet another boring selfie of you and your beloved partner / kid / dog / cat / whatever

And so on.

Now, why didn't I think of that?

Could've saved all the fuss, or venom, spewed out here.

5th October 2015

Thank you, O Lord, for the rain,

The wonderful rain that dilutes the haze,

The smoky haze that chokes the air,

And helps us breathe a little easier,

The cats included,

The cats who know not the benefits of

respirators in such conditions

But fall sick all the same

Just as we do

From breathing the polluted air

By courtesy of our regional neighbors

That’s now being degraded by the rain

From what it was

To something a lot less polluted

And a lot more breathable

For which we give thee thanks, O Lord,

From the bottom of our hearts,

The cats included.

11th September 2015

Chicken cooked in its own fat,

Although delicious,

Is insidiously in the long run a booby trap

Designed to control population growth

By eventually choking off the arterial gap

By means of plaque or sludge or both

As commonly found in clogged pipes

Accustomed to prolonged waste oil traffic

And such insoluble types

No matter how powerful the magic

Of witch doctors and medicine men

Who are  no better than mechanics

At replacing clogged pipes with new ones,

Cannibalized or otherwise.

30th August 2015

The Arab Spring has reached Malaysian shores

But Najib and his armies step aside

And even grant safe passage to the scores

Of yellow T-shirts marching side by side

Demanding that he hand over his crown

For millions he received from overseas

In private bank accounts somewhere in town

Kept undisclosed in spite of public pleas

But to his credit tear gas isn't used
To clear the streets crammed full of yellow shirts

And salvage traffic codes that were abused

By law-sidestepping folk in jeans and skirts;

As long as everyone is safe from harm

The victory of this round's in his palm.


[link # 46, The World's Longest Sonnet Chain, www.leokarlos-longest-sonnet-chain.blogspot.com]