feeling broken light right there the soft gleam
of skin on foreskin the slight coconut musk
of husky wonder the lemon curd of sunday
childhood baking imagine a daffodil fruiting
into bloom just below the ridge of soft delta
caramelised under the sun of your gaze
lover, they don’t tell you this but
fondess will not make phimosis retract
even when the hardness resurrects
the smegma remains unrepentant,
insisting on being there when you
#SingPoWriMo2015Day05 #SingPoWriMoDay05 #marylyntan
#Prompt1: Write a poem depicting something ugly as beautiful, or something beautiful as ugly.
#Prompt2: Write a poem on the theme of resurrection.
@self: shld prolly stop talkng 2 white men on 4chan who call u sarcastic asian whore & maybe dont spend 5hrs collecting dolphin blowjob gifs
* #Prompt1: Write a poem addressed to your younger self, without using the word “I”.
* #Prompt2: Write a poem in which each stanza fits within a Tweet (i.e. max 140 characters).
** #PowerBonus: Combine the two prompts.
it’s a flesh wound, they say,
their thick cleaved lips
at the prone twitch-yiffing
of my wetly gleaming form,
nearly as masturbatory
we are tiny manimals calcite
and mineralised in amber
monument to the day
we came so hard
we fossilised ourselves.
there is a symmetry to the golden ratio of the
the cleaved foot of the goat with
a thousand young,
the raw milky glass-white of
translucent anal beads.
you fuck my flesh wound
with your polydactyl thumb
and a horde of sugar gliders bursts out
swimming for their lives.
I wilt like a corsage,
or most hard-ons.
it is not just because they are my
cosmic progenitor parents
that they are called
The Elder Ones.
we are hatching wordlessly
under the earth
lies wet dreaming.
#SingPoWriMo2015Day03 #SingPoWriMoDay03 #SG50ShadesOfGrey
Write an erotic poem
Bonus 1: …with no people in it.
Bonus 2: Pun.
led zeppelin never told you this but
the ascent is its own reward.
stairwells here too should be scrawled with
bawal umihi dito
but no one ever says
anything about the side effects
of being more fisted than fistula
in the midday,
unless it is grainy photos of moral decay
depicting yet another carpark roof coupling
is it being sick of being transient
that makes you hide all inclination
hid in lotuses
for a reason
#SingPoWriMo2015Day02 | #SingPoWriMoDay02 | #marylyntan
Write a poem that responds to this image
* Bonus 1: Include a title that serves to caption the image
* Bonus 2: Incorporate some words from a different language
tell the pangolins I won’t stop dance-shitting on their swamp, their last nature-reserves of patience. mine is love as grave as entombment.
the heart’s flights of fancy
consist of way more a s s
than q u e u e.
why else is it called
#SingPoWriMo2015Day01 | #SingPoWriMoDay01
Write a poem featuring the year 2065.
* Bonus 1: Use the words: queue, dance, grave, swamp, arrest, love
* Bonus 2: Write the poem as a liwuli or one of its formal variants
calves folded origami under a
paper lantern pelvis.
you throw me against the wall
like a shadow
rateyourmusic reviews for Radiohead’s Amnesiac, page 4, [Rating55626388]
the crying minotaur
Make no mistake,
one way streets, alleys, and dead ends
are trapdoors that
Might Be Wrong.
(labyrinth), devour us.
an unreachable state of utopia
of society by society for society
is worth the price of admission
to be thrown out of order
the flow starts to
gain momentum in
Its self-destructing nature
the above mentioned event