There is a bird with wings of a deep aquamarine blue and a breast so creamy white
pecking barnacles on a rock just beyond the shoreline
I am sitting here, by the quaint little Sampan Bar
it takes barely a handful of people
they chat easily, enjoying the evening cool.
My glass of white wine at the hotel bar
costs me a hefty RM8.80 (claimable)
It is just after sundown.
Ahead of me, the sea is a glassy calm
I went swimming, just
A fiery-haired girl and I, we waded in at the same time,
barely metres from each other
The sunset blazes directly ahead of us, casting the ocean as a thick golden liquid
The water is so still it is eerie, and we peer into the shallows,
sweeping the sand-bed for lurking monsters.
She is as tentative as me, I think,
and as I think that she glances at me then smiles covertly into the water,
I know she has just seen the same in me.
As I dive into the water,
she gives up, turning back and heading for shore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10 am
We are filming the Kok Marina.
The coffee at the resort is a burnt, bitter disappointment
so, when I spy lavazza at a café here I am elated
Further inside I spy a sign advertising wi-fi
suddenly I am so excited I think I am going to pass out
I have not touched the internet in 2 whole days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10.30 am.
I am cha-cha-ing to Smooth Operator
on the wooden walkway that zig-zags over hundreds of crocodiles
basking in a viscous soup of green algae
We are at the crocodile farm.
Ian tells me to walk the ‘zig’.
“I’ll film you from the ‘zag’”, he says
The farm is a buzzing hive of activity this Monday morning.
Seriously, it is.Really.
For someone who woke up at 7 am on a Monday morning,
my spirits are unbelievably high.
Iridescent.Luminous.
So good, that it puts the fact that it is Monday to shame.
Monday, you cannot touch me, not today.
Hah.
The skies are a clear, cloudless bright, brilliant blue
Lush green hills soar majestically around us
It is very hard for me to be anything but joyous on a day like this
The crocodile show.
There are about 10 tourists watching
I feel bad for the performing boys, sticking their arms into the gaping jaws of huge crocs,
no one seems impressed,
no one claps, so I start
Another viewer takes on but that’s as popular as it gets.
The MC narrates in a horrible drawl,
enunciation and intonation sorely off,
I want to bitch slap him something fierce
Twit.
I skip around the farm, earphones in, singing out loud,
in my own world, oblivious to the slow trickle of tourists.
Pools of sunlight dance across the pathway
I pass the snake enclosure and
am momentarily panicked when I see the huge python within
Snake enclosure, duh!, I tell myself
I have never been afraid before
I think Uncle jangkitkan-ed his snake-phobia.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4 pm
The heat is positively scorching.
I am hung-over and completely stoned from drinking
nearly 3 ¼ a bottle of wine and absolutely no sleep the night before
Hair-of-the-dog!, I think
So I order my classic afternoon drink,
dry vermouth and 7-up, a lemon twist
I coax altar-boy Gabriel into having one as well
Ian and I exchange looks as he sips
Slowly but surely, we are corrupting him
I tell them that the clock tower at Kok Marina
should be called Cock Tower
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Caucasian boy of about 4
scoots around all by his lonesome on the dock
Somehow he reminds me of myself at that age
I try to speak to him, but he is moody, staring out at sea,
brow furrowed into a frown
It is only later when he sees my angled camera that
his face breaks out into a smile.
8.30 pm
Ian, Gabriel and I are having dinner
Ian regales us with crass stories of everything
from smelly balls to unorthodox hotel kitchen practices
At on point he points to his nose and tells us he was born
with a deviated rectum
I laugh, loud and hard.
His poker-face is awesome.
There are moments when I want to shield poor Gabriel’s ears.
The loss of innocence.
Hell, sometimes he doesn’t even know what we’re speaking of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So I've been sitting here for the past 2 hours
uploading pictures and text
I'm wasting valuable beach time
and seriously busting for a crap
All this free-food is doing wonders for my
bowel movement.
Not that you needed to know that
but heck I might need to refer
if for some reason at some point in the future
I need to chart the history of my craps.
Title is my only complaint.
That and the eleven mosquito bites on the right side
of my digestive coloured right leg.
pecking barnacles on a rock just beyond the shoreline
I am sitting here, by the quaint little Sampan Bar
it takes barely a handful of people
they chat easily, enjoying the evening cool.
My glass of white wine at the hotel bar
costs me a hefty RM8.80 (claimable)
It is just after sundown.
Ahead of me, the sea is a glassy calm
I went swimming, just
A fiery-haired girl and I, we waded in at the same time,
barely metres from each other
The sunset blazes directly ahead of us, casting the ocean as a thick golden liquid
The water is so still it is eerie, and we peer into the shallows,
sweeping the sand-bed for lurking monsters.
She is as tentative as me, I think,
and as I think that she glances at me then smiles covertly into the water,
I know she has just seen the same in me.
As I dive into the water,
she gives up, turning back and heading for shore.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10 am
We are filming the Kok Marina.
The coffee at the resort is a burnt, bitter disappointment
so, when I spy lavazza at a café here I am elated
Further inside I spy a sign advertising wi-fi
suddenly I am so excited I think I am going to pass out
I have not touched the internet in 2 whole days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
10.30 am.
I am cha-cha-ing to Smooth Operator
on the wooden walkway that zig-zags over hundreds of crocodiles
basking in a viscous soup of green algae
We are at the crocodile farm.
Ian tells me to walk the ‘zig’.
“I’ll film you from the ‘zag’”, he says
The farm is a buzzing hive of activity this Monday morning.
Seriously, it is.Really.
For someone who woke up at 7 am on a Monday morning,
my spirits are unbelievably high.
Iridescent.Luminous.
So good, that it puts the fact that it is Monday to shame.
Monday, you cannot touch me, not today.
Hah.
The skies are a clear, cloudless bright, brilliant blue
Lush green hills soar majestically around us
It is very hard for me to be anything but joyous on a day like this
The crocodile show.
There are about 10 tourists watching
I feel bad for the performing boys, sticking their arms into the gaping jaws of huge crocs,
no one seems impressed,
no one claps, so I start
Another viewer takes on but that’s as popular as it gets.
The MC narrates in a horrible drawl,
enunciation and intonation sorely off,
I want to bitch slap him something fierce
Twit.
I skip around the farm, earphones in, singing out loud,
in my own world, oblivious to the slow trickle of tourists.
Pools of sunlight dance across the pathway
I pass the snake enclosure and
am momentarily panicked when I see the huge python within
Snake enclosure, duh!, I tell myself
I have never been afraid before
I think Uncle jangkitkan-ed his snake-phobia.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
4 pm
The heat is positively scorching.
I am hung-over and completely stoned from drinking
nearly 3 ¼ a bottle of wine and absolutely no sleep the night before
Hair-of-the-dog!, I think
So I order my classic afternoon drink,
dry vermouth and 7-up, a lemon twist
I coax altar-boy Gabriel into having one as well
Ian and I exchange looks as he sips
Slowly but surely, we are corrupting him
I tell them that the clock tower at Kok Marina
should be called Cock Tower
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Caucasian boy of about 4
scoots around all by his lonesome on the dock
Somehow he reminds me of myself at that age
I try to speak to him, but he is moody, staring out at sea,
brow furrowed into a frown
It is only later when he sees my angled camera that
his face breaks out into a smile.
8.30 pm
Ian, Gabriel and I are having dinner
Ian regales us with crass stories of everything
from smelly balls to unorthodox hotel kitchen practices
At on point he points to his nose and tells us he was born
with a deviated rectum
I laugh, loud and hard.
His poker-face is awesome.
There are moments when I want to shield poor Gabriel’s ears.
The loss of innocence.
Hell, sometimes he doesn’t even know what we’re speaking of.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
So I've been sitting here for the past 2 hours
uploading pictures and text
I'm wasting valuable beach time
and seriously busting for a crap
All this free-food is doing wonders for my
bowel movement.
Not that you needed to know that
but heck I might need to refer
if for some reason at some point in the future
I need to chart the history of my craps.
Title is my only complaint.
That and the eleven mosquito bites on the right side
of my digestive coloured right leg.
1 comment:
ah, you speak of the craps... dont worry about it, it comes naturally after hanging with capes and ian long enough :)
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