Let the record show

Let the record show:

Flowing waters almost always

Climb uphill.

 

This ‘retreat’

Is no small matter;

Walls and pillars have formed,

 

Architecture water

Could never have;

An unrecognisable animal.

 

It’s aggression

Pull fish away

From the lonely sea shells.

 

Standing at full height,

The sun gave it

Colourful, ever-changing tattoos:

 

Bright light blinding

Small passersby

With soothing pain.

 

 
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Let the record show by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.

Comfort Food

You are like a tall glass of milo dinosaur

shiok as hell, for any day

 

You are like colourful ice kacang.

the sweetest of rojaks

 

You are like East Coast Satay,

with sedap chao ta around your edges.

 

You are like sinful Devils Curry,

I will always love you for

giving me first degree burns

 

You are like sweet wanton noodles,

bland but not bland, simple but not simple,

a bowl of contradictions, you are hard to describe.

 

You are like Changi’s Chili Crab,

meaty and messy, your lipstick on my collar

I wear proudly for the world to see.

 

You are my chicken rice,

You’ll be there when I get home.

(First published in Words: Lost and Found by Coffee Stained Press).

 

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Comfort Food by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

Rain

Inspired by Bohol Man-made forest.

I mistook it for rain.

I’m so used to impending storms,

I put my rain gear on.

 

Only after that

did I raise my hand to see

how heavy it would be.

 

But there were no raindrops.

Instead, there were these tiny white flowers

pooling in my palm.

 

I looked up at the canopy

And watched them fall from the giant trees

It was raining flowers.

 

But it still felt like rain.

Sometimes, when we’re so used to the storms

We don’t recognize anything else.

 

It’s better to be safe than sorry

And when expecting the worse becomes a habit

Protection becomes routine.

 

You will not look up,

not until you’ve assessed its severity

and plan your escape route.

 

Any minute now,

your shoes are going to get muddy

and you will be drenched

 

from head to toe.

You are mentally preparing yourself

for the thunder and the lightning

 

You wait for the crash.

But it never comes.

Yet it still feels like rain.

 

Until you look up.

Until you see what is there,

it will always feel like rain.

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Rain by Cheyenne Alexandria Phillips is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.