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18142the clothesline and haiku by john tiong chunghoo

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    May 1 2:48 AM

      dusk sea
      van gogh
      at work

      poem; the clothesline

      talking about incisive mind;
      my life's laid bare
      on my clothesline
      right under the sun
      if noosy neighbours
      really know where to read it.
      our laughters and moods
      trail with the frills, shades
      pastels, chiffons
      a myriad shapely wear
      that dance in the morning breeze;
      a party in the open.
      the butterflies and bees
      lose out to their allure;
      a cartoonist's inner world
      at work as we figure
      all the characters
      in the wear
      trooping through
      the avenue with their
      infectious laughters.
      in the dawn of a new season
      how the shapes have changed,
      and the colours
      fly away like autumn.
      the dull colours!
      the dull colours!
      how they invade my
      clothesline, my life.
      the falling leaves!
      the falling crown!
      how everything start
      giving up on each other
      split, broken, trail
      with the wind!
      the void! the void!
      Right in this warm
      blooded creature!
      So cold the days
      finally become...
      my clothesline,
      the delicate theatre
      of my life
      that trails with the wind
      day in and day out.
      if only the noosy neighbour
      know where to read
      all my secrets;
      they dance in the winds...
      each morning....
      when the sun is bright
      and the wind blowing....
      this morning i watch
      with witheld tears alone
      knowing full well
      some shirts will
      never return to the line.

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