Blooming just as well, the lady with flowers in her basket

reincarnation spectre
her contours stirring the heat
in the African desert

portrait of the French Lady
she holds tight to the
pleasures of her life

i
smell
God

Jimmy Choo so obliging
you can wear his shoes
if they fit you

chapters of my life
on the pavement
leaves flying asunder

difficult times
mother and child holding
onto a bleakness

the red rose too
finds its way up
to praise its Creator

Kinabatangan river cruise
our eyes darting around
like monkey

flower selling girl
at her quiet corner
a basket of dreams

lake of consciousness
a lotus charges up to claim
the beauty of transcience

as he strikes his plough
on the soil he picks up vibrations
of all his existence

as he strikes his plough
on the soil, vibrations of all
his existence bounce back

consciousness
a timeless zen
everything falls into

consciousness
timeless
transcience

consciousness
a lake of timelessness
transcience dances a ballet

nature's expanse
one little corner
streaming with life

blooming just as well
the lady with flowers
in her basket

My journalist friend told me he is always frightened of being thought as not an intellectual, so he uses the most specfic words to describe his experiences for his feature stories...words that you wont come across again half your life.

I so fear readers may not understand my writing, i use the simplest of words for my work, poems, prose or newspaper features.

the midnight bus leaves me
in the shadows
of a haunted house

bakun dam
a whole town wallows
in troubled waters