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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=422466" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Again and Again</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">poetry in progress</div><div style="margin:10px 0">childhood days are roses and thorns<br>they comprise memories light as<br>the roll of one marble as well as <br>heavy as a bag full of the blue white <br>gleaming rolly pollies sitting so <br>quietly in the old store room</div><div style="margin:10px 0">childhood is full of schemes<br>marbles - we made sure the other boys<br>are emptied of theirs<br>kites - we made sure the string of <br>their kites snap, kite flying away<br>like a helpless chinese princess<br>pigeons - one was downed by us so that <br>its mate waited for it one whole day <br>on the precipice of a roof<br>one memory i wish to tear to shreds<br>dragonflies - in my hands they ate <br>each other up</div><div style="margin:10px 0">childhood is festooned with lessons <br>both inside and outside the classroom <br>with the two legged, four legged, the hornbills, <br>doggies, and those with no legs but then <br>morphed into the best hoppers - frogs, toads<br>and grasshoppers to teach us never <br>to underestimate the poorest of anything<br>arithmetics, music, football or paintballs</div><div style="margin:10px 0">childhood lane<br>a ball floating and sinking<br>a patch here and there, a lake, a stream, <br>a river - so many fishes had splashed <br>their tails and now only concretes<br>to make the memory jump</div><div style="margin:10px 0">a cry, a lane, a walk, a pet, a church, <br>a school, mother's hand holding so tight, <br>shaking, and still elucidating her<br>discomforts, and those yelps of puppies <br>there, here, here there we had more than <br>five doggies all those years </div><div style="margin:10px 0">winding through there, here<br>a range of sepia, black and white, chromes, <br>working themselves into an abstract <br>marbles rolling onto empty canvas - <br>light and ever so desirable these bonuses <br>at children's alleyway dates<br>- rolling ever still rolling <br>the drive that reels and roils the mind<br>going back is the same as moving forward<br>there is never a point in time we can rest on</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=John+Tiong+Chunghoo">John Tiong Chunghoo</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=422466" data-title="Again and Again de John Tiong Chunghoo" data-description="poetry in progress

childhood days are roses and thorns
they comprise memories light as
the roll of one marble as well as 
heavy as a bag full of the blue white 
gleaming rolly pollies sitting so 
quietly in the old store room

childhood is full o..."></div>
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