September, september——
recollecting what it means to be a boy
post-AM sessions, 8, 10 and 12 years old
Finding callow, unpubertized joy in arms
outstretched playing Police & Thief under
the void deck, shouts "TWIST(in the pocket)"
sweating till the blue fades to warm fuzzy orange
Coming home to wails of the concerned Mother

 

A real gem of an oldtown——
Marsiling Road
my ol' Home was conveniently lodged
at a side of an impressive hill
the view from the front window
paints a ying-yang snake-like stairway
which cuts across the whole hill
——Bouldery railings and skinny looking
decorative trees with leaves not impossible to count
completes the dreamy tableau

 

Countless free non-homework-filled afternoons
spent sledging down the north face of the hill
with cardboard surfboards made by our nimble fingers
"Loser buy Paddle Pop for all" one would shout
before gearing up for the downhill race
"Ahh no money" one would say if he lost——
But we were all smiles and sweat,
and we would all buy our own paddlepops

 

There is a garden on top of the hill
garnished with boulders stacked on top of the other
with tree boughs and crispy brown leaves
appropriately scattered on the pebbled pathway
by unforgiving south-east-asian monsoon——
Blooming with purple solitude
Little butterflies of yellow and orange
——caught in suspension——
leading us deeper into the heart
the dark green boscage above shrouding
the ground from the afternoon light
This spot notorious for teenage escape
of two lovebirds sharing intimacy
——lazy afternoon lingers on
as both lips touched, the infancy of it all
like when the yellow and the orange
gently meet at that moment of contact
forever clapping in the air
——Wings of love

 

Anchored deep in me is
the hill, with its priceless colors and scenic
wallpaper views and countless evenings of
purple and orange and blue
September will always bring me back to
Marsiling, reminding me of my humble past
The hill will forever be mighty patient
Meditating among the bustling neighborhood
——lazy calm——
——Ooowark!
A crow disturbs the peace
and flies south.

Sadiq Mansor was born in the suburbs of Marsiling in 1990, the second of four children in a religious Malay family. He attended neighborhood schools throughout his youth and in 2010 graduated with a Diploma in Molecular Biotechnology from Nanyang Polytechnic. Currently serving the nation, he spends most of his time in camp writing notes and simple spontaneous poetry mostly questioning existence and religion in his own little head. He is not planning to pursue further into Science as he aspires to do what he wants in life. An enthusiast in film photography, Sadiq shoots and develops black and white film in his little bedroom. In the same room he spends countless afternoons reading Steinbeck, McKenna, Kerouac and more. He is left-handed, asthmatic, and epileptic. In the last 6 months he was admitted to hospital twice for seizures and lung infection, mainly due to smoking and his alcoholic lifestyle. He recently turned vegetarian. He is still an infant in the world of "Poetry Submissions." His poem “Ganesha” was published in Ceriph's White Issue last year.

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