inkling of love

12/03/2012
strangers we become©papa osmubal

strangers we become©papa osmubal

 

inklings of love
–Hilda Tam

1
a cast of eyes
and
a smile
and
a line
and
a hug
and
a kiss
more we meet
stranger we become

2
heart beats
smothered in the quilt
breaths
gingerly
hot
tears
fall

3
taboo: ‘I love you.’


a funeral

12/03/2012
blessed with ashes©papa osmubal

blessed with ashes©papa osmubal

a funeral
hilda tam

1
compulsory party
not much notice

wooden fish* beaten
suona horns* blown
joss sticks
and candles burn

roasted pig’s head
apples and oranges
blessed with ashes

2
two paper dolls*
red-faced
stand by
under the smiling picture

white lanterns
hand written
red candles
lit within
red ink
tells how long a life

3
thousands
of paper ingots*
folded to please
the ghosts nearby

through the fire
dolls
villa
Rolls Royce
all down to hell

ashes in the air
receipts

4
under brocade cloths
banknotes
gold silver
and she sleeps in peace

the image before us
rots


* wooden fish are percussion instruments used to keep the rhythm during sutra chanting.
* the suona horn is a double-reed wind instrument with a flaring metal bell, used at weddings and funerals.
* paper dolls will be servants of the deceased in the afterlife.
* paper ingots are traditional money to burn for ancestors and ghosts.


scrub cream

22/02/2012
face©papa osmubal

face©papa osmubal

scrub cream
hilda tam

I squeezed some out
to scrub away
the palm prints
the scar on my face
and the milky smell on the body

blood cropped up

body
still grubby


crying over onions

30/06/2011
ok, but, but... for pete's sakes, where are the onions?! ©papa osmubal

ok, but, but... for pete's sakes, where are the onions?! ©papa osmubal


crying over onions

hilda tam

I was chopping an onion and
you hugged me from behind

you kissed me
your lips
cold as my knife

I saw the lip print on your neck
crimson
like dried blood
lighting the skin untouched

I was blind
I stared

you smelt like onion
you were it

I chopped
and chopped
and chopped

you whimpered
and I cried
over the onion


getting-used-to

26/06/2011
yes! yes! yesssss! ©papa osmubal

yes! yes! yesssss! ©papa osmubal


getting-used-to

hilda tam

I hate getting-used-to
wish it had never been
I can’t get used to
the getting used to
just can’t get used to it


bottles

26/06/2011
as long as it is ice-cold ©papa osmubal

as long as it is ice-cold ©papa osmubal


bottles

hilda tam

vodka
whisky
tequila
have blurred the past
but empty bottles
marked the blur
break them
break the blur
it’s just hard to clean up
the shattered glass


smile

26/06/2011
face doesn't crack when you smile ©papa osmubal

face doesn't crack when you smile ©papa osmubal


smile

hilda tam

1
flushed cheeks
looking at the ice-cream
she laughed

2
grimy hands
in her eyes wave sounds
wearing his sandals
she chortled

3
black hair on the temples
white gown has buried her pure heart
princess in a fairy tale chuckled

I threw the pictures into the fire
because none of them
were happy