A Rainbow of Black Ink

Poetry from www.inksplatterpoetry.com | Instagram: @inksplatterpoetry | Twitter: @inksplatterpoetry |

[inksplatterpoetry]

i scream for anyone, anywhere, to know me or hear me somehow. no one ever does. im afraid of being seen. im also afraid there's nothing within me worth seeing.

[inksplatterpoetry]

just thinkin about stuff.

we grew up in a pretty shit household where one never really knew how to exist in a space if we weren’t told what sort of person was required for the situation. we were under the thumb and wills of adults who made demands, had expectations and gave orders that children shouldn’t/couldn’t be relied upon to keep. it is why we never became one singular human unit to begin with- we never were treated…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

bad at thinking

forgive me for thinking of you often.

where you are going is far away and i am bad at not thinking of airport hops, plane stops, layover hours,

oh god, you are going so far away

forgive me for thinking of you often.

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[inksplatterpoetry]

fuck me gently with a chainsaw

fuck me gently with a chainsaw

Based on the movie (and subsequent musical) ‘Heathers’, which I love more than anything. I reimagined the three Heathers as local secondary school girls and tried to place them in our context.

And then realised that oh, they’d all definitely be uber-privileged Chinese girls. So we have this.

C/TW: Eating disorder (bulimia), sexual abuse, bullying, slut-shaming, fat-shaming, toxic masculinity,…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

Death of a Poet

This is not an epitaph for the lights in my eyes and this is not a requiem for the clumsy scoreboards and this will not be the ending theme to our final episode

This is a party for the last finger-snapping rhymes for bleeding tongues and aching hearts

My history begins here, the struggle to find my voice I speak my poems too hard raw passion surging in my veins my face turns red from the pressure

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[inksplatterpoetry]

The Last Slam of Blu Jaz Cafè

The Last Slam of Blu Jaz Cafè

Written for the last slam of Blu Jaz Cafè

Yes, allow me to grace you all with this glorious image of myself at age 16-going-on-17, fresh out of Secondary School, sporting bright red hair, a single fingerless glove and (in retrospect) horrible poetry.

This image in particular is a screenshot taken from the video recording of my very first poetry slam on 25 August 2016.

I performed in Blu Jaz Cafè…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

Could You Love This?

Could You Love This?

It falls alone like wilting flowers.

La vie en rose

Like a lipstick stain, left on a carseat An egg-shaped rock chosen by gay penguins A butterfly wing on a windowsill. Just shy, just short of a prior.

Je suis amoureux, mais je suis mort

What is context but a broken backdrop, What are details but lines, What is a story but colours spilled beyond?

Someone sings in a kitchen, alone

‘Et ça me fait…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

i don’t know what to say, today. but i guess that is how we had always been, with lips steeped in silence soft bodies folding over spilling easily pooling around our unspoken conversations

this is the norm, to talk about things we could talk about and to think about what i want to show you today whether you would laugh at me again please, laugh at me i am but a clown waiting for the tightrope to…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

it must be the depression.

it must be the depression.

I’m not great at repetition.

When you are awake at 2.35am, feeling like crap It must be the depression. When you are making instant noodles to fill the void, It must be the depression.

When you can’t tell whether you are happy with a poem, It must be the depression. When you can’t think of a good reason to skip school other than “I’m tired”, It must be the depression.

It is easy to chalk…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

An Ode to the Asshole Cat That Wouldn’t Leave the HDB Flat Someone Else Was Trying to Move Into Stupid asshole cat. Are you trying to fly again, my dear? You’re brandishing the broomstick like a man on a mission,

[inksplatterpoetry]

I Should Learn To Read Bus Numbers Better

I Should Learn To Read Bus Numbers Better

  I took the wrong bus and ended up at your place today, dear.

The trees still look the same, even though it’s been a while since I last saw them. There is still graffiti on the walls and it still smells musty, like old lifts. But the diggers and aluminium walls weren’t here before, so I suppose some things have changed.

It’s not hard to just take another bus and get back on track, and I was…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

(in)Visible

Poem for the closeted

If you can only watch Pink Dot from behind closed doors, Remember that there is always a room outside.

When you take your binder off at night, Listen to the rumble of constellations in your skin Where every burnt-out star wishes they could rework themselves To wrap around you in a new shape, one that feels right.

If you must laugh at slurs in fear of repercussion, Know that…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

Girls

– For PJ

Girls are made of

Sugar Spice And everything nice.

She is twirling across the gravel On a rooftop in Haji Lane Her arms stretch and spill feathers and cinnamon My eyes water and sting

God, I wish you liked girls.

(more…)

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[inksplatterpoetry]

Sonnet for Cold Showers

Sonnet for Cold Showers

– Written for SingPoWriMo, Day 7’s Prompt: The Found/Fount Sonnet Prompt:

In this creative prompt, we’ll be working with a new version of a classic poetic form, quaintly named The Found//Fount Sonnet.

Yes, it’s one more thang to add to our expanding catalogue of Southeast Asian forms. The Italians have the Petrarchan sonnet; the English have their Shakespearean and Spenserian sonnets. Billy…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

Building Hope On Broken Things

Building Hope On Broken Things

– Written for SingPoWriMo, Day 5’s Prompt: The Speculated Fiction Prompt:

Imagine you open up and explain everything about your life today—your biggest fears, hopes, ambitions, habits, the technology– to someone who lived in the past (any time period before the year 2000– you decide!), and they went back in time and wrote a science fiction novel about you. They knew (know?) no one would believe…

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[inksplatterpoetry]

To My Acne

– For the constellations and craters that call my face “Home”.

you litter my face like stardust in conversations with the mirror there you are, shining bright red like you are signalling to the world “come land here!” but really, you’ve accomplished the opposite.

we have been through a lot together, like that time you showed up on my nose on the day of our class photo you were always there for me

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[inksplatterpoetry]

We Wear Glasses To See Better

We Wear Glasses To See Better

Written for Day 4 of Singapore Poetry Writing Month: The Haterade Prompt:

Write a love poem to an aspect of yourself that you hate. Or at the very least get annoyed by. Or at least wish you could change. This could be something about yourself that scares, angers, disgusts, or disappoints you. This could be a bad habit, condition, physical attribute, something you used to believe in the past,…

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