Baronhawk's Nest

In ancient Greece
a hero is
one who rids
the world of tyrants

leaders
unbecomingly
who distresses
the population

one who stops
at nothing
to claim his grasp
on power

one who stubbornly
holds on
no matter
whatever the ire

in both
the people
suffers
and tires

the selfish ambition of one
the stupid ego of another
do we need a hero?
maybe

or loads
of common sense
in the psyche
of "so called" leaders

the besieged
office holder
the upstart
de facto whatever

please...
grow up Malaysia!

What is
democratic space?

to me
it lies
within my head
spaced
between the ears
where imagination
escape
dreams and fears
take flight

to Sheena
its a silken scarf
a head cover
she put on
and take off
whichever
whenever
she wants
and prefers

to Reza
its in Hartamas
a townhouse
rented
and done up
an artistic
creative space
where thoughts
mind
and rest converge

to George
its within a can
of fermented wheat
barley, yeast
and hops
a gentle sultry
solace
from internetless
Batu Arang
the rigours
of Lostgen Artspace

I seek a bed of solace,
after all the tell tale deeds.
The grueling nights that kept pace,
with the gentle rolling dreams.

I sought for a branch,
of an olive hue.
To strike a balance,
from both the bitter and the crude.

All I found are handles,
on which to grip and hold same.
In the unending battle between the poetic,
and the reality of the sane.

I turn to ideals,
values and precepts,
ancient codes
that present values intercept.

But found only shadows,
sadness and despair,
amidst the truth
that I can never accept.

I look for God,
and the put on vestments of faith.
But found naught,
of His virtues still in place.

Then I found you,
and I knew the true measure of grace.
The truth is out there,
in your beauty, touch and gait.