Venomous (Jan26)

 

Old crone was first noticed at the teh counter ordering. Deft way of displaying her charms at every possible opportunity. Five minutes later awaiting her food around the other side of Abbas she got offa her feet for a spell, pulling up a pew at the end of the pair of tables. Back turned, angled away, but still able to present a portion of that artwork resting before her. Remarkable dotted pattern covering the whole of the back of both hands, right down to the knuckles and up to the sleeves, baby peacock eyes perhaps the motif. There might have been 25 on each, with the colour tone of the iris picked up in the deepest crimson of finely shaped nails. One wrist at least was banded with strings of gold, (the watch musta ridden up under the sleeve). The usual henna was nothing like. Gotta be tail end of her 70s, if not beyond. Face mask & navy cap rather than scarf further shrouded. (On a closer look when she turned slightly, the younger age was clear.) Did grandad even now benefit from that dazzling allure, that spider suddenly emerged from the jungle, when it began crawling over his chest? (Further was not required.) The palpitations here would start way ahead of any overt action, little fever quietly stoked unawares. A few minutes later when she was spotted again 3 - 4 rows back the decision was made. The hell no! We are gonna give that a try! The pose requested would be with the pair raised together before her, pinkie of the right giving a soft touch of the left’s ring finger—cropped later just above the line of chin, perhaps. Two steps back to collect the phone and quickly swinging round again, only to find the grandad had come to collect their purchases. Surprisingly youthfulness. That display would certainly not be all in vain there, not every single day. Highly serviceable. The old duck collecting her cane before setting off had it all properly sorted.

 

 

           Geylang Serai, Singapore 2011-26

 

 

 

 

Nano / Pico published by Six Word Memoirs

 

How to take back those kisses?

https://www.sixwordmemoirs.com/profile?uid=331225

Bing & Bob (‘Tis the Season)

 

Paper cup with the plastic lid removed and eschewing the straw (plastic), it was only the Chrissy lounge & carols one needed to contend with. Furnishings and the prospect on Wong Ah Fook, well, added elements. On the other hand, a little chat with the coloured young crew, intro-ing snatches of their own language, lightened everything. Screen fixation at every choc brown table — you get that everywhere. Pinches the brain to consider the heartlessness in the calculation; for the construction visible through the window likewise. In the case of the design along the canal, that was less heartlessness and more ineptitude and sheer boneheadedness. There was thought of the architects Jimmy Lim (local Aga Khan winner) and Sabine Johnsdorfer wincing at every single step. Even still Jimmy in his 80s now. Like trudging through merde no end in sight.

Johor Bahru, Malaysia 

Up & Down the Tube

 # Published by Fleas on the Dog, March 2021

Up and Down the TuBe (Re: Howard Zinn & Michael Gove)

By Pavle RaDonic

WHY WE LIKE IT: Moxy kool.

(Spacing and format is author’s own.)

Up & Down the Tube (Re: Howard Zinn & Michael Gove)

Howard Zinn

Isn't he wonderful. Heard him before. Loved the mentions of Mark Twain & Helen Keller.

Who in the heck knew that stuff? Carefully tailored fame.

From memory an autodidact, not uni grad.

You notice the size of the nib on Trumpet's signature quill? See the pour of lustrous black

from the Fordham grad who cheated his way into Penn.

Remember Prof Blainey only a decade & half back during Howard's time, Bush's sheriff,

banging on relentlessly about the advance of civilisation, impossibility of holding back

against lesser cultures, refusing the black armband version of history. Still not dead the old

bastard, god forgive me. (The voice of Bab at my back.)

My Pentel ENERGel 07 flows like a dream. Brought 20-25 refills with me out here, as well

as half dozen pens; near the end of the supply after such an extended stay. Disdain inferior

product. It took the Japs some good while to refine the technology for their nibs. Not to be

taken for granted. You drop or even knock them, goodbye the cascading outpour from the

heart.

His skin treatment in the shot here, as well as the autocue either side he swivels to read from

like a halting schoolboy. You can imagine years ago how long he practised that tag, curls,

hooks and flourishes to die for. No statesman in history has anything to compare, Theodore

Roosevelt poss coming closest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8_L7U0R0oSM

Michael Gove

Knew the name but never laid eyes on the man previously, nor heard that voice and those

rhythms.You feel humanity has been cruelly trapped and overpowered by malign forces of

darkness causing such numbers to be herded into the language of this fellow's marauding

ancestors. Stuck there we are like insect specimens in aspic. Three minutes of the twelve was

as much as could be borne. You begin to think of the possibility of the revenge of the natural

order currently working away on that island through this pandemic, the late interventions by

BoJo all too little. Did you hear his recent freedom-loving guff contrasting Brits / Germans &

others?!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VV42soUXW_g

NB. Replies to mail from George

https://img1.wsimg.com/blobby/go/9a0949f4-1d2a-4a7c-b9fb-a96b9b6bd861/downloads/NF%20_5%20_Up%20and%20Down%20the%20Tube_%20by%20Pavle%20Radonic.pdf?ver=1614992528313

# Published by Fleas on the Dog, March 2021. Orig. posted on the Blog, Sept 2020. This here is the Fleas layout.

Wearisome

Teh oh limau sikit, sikit, sikit gula still arrived over sweetened. The old snow-haired from last night rocked up again for his late evening meal. As did same time the young bearded with his piece of cardboard, seated on the path above leaning on the clipped hedge. No sign of active begging there—on its own the man’s figure was more than enough. The former withdrew an orangey-red RM10 from a tattered wallet, which was far more than the other could produce for the life of him. When the plate arrived shortly after a green RM5 was returned to Snowy; $4.50 cheap meal. Coming along half hour earlier, shortly before 8, night fallen properly not so long ago, another little oldie had found himself a narrow sunken space in which to insert himself by the path hard against the hoarding. It looked at first as if the man was assuming a squat for a discreet number 2. Some twisting and wriggling had him suddenly dropping completely from view, more than ready to zonk immediately. The day of course had been a trial. Few hours before in 420 in the darkened room again, the one in the middle of the corridor off from the covered inner courtyard of the hotel, a 20 minute doze had overcome under the a/c. For no good reason—apart from the heat always on the Equator—the day had wearied more than one. Unexpectedly, Dah’s mention of breast augmentation had addled the brain. An informed, thoughtful Achenese.

Pendulum Papers Archive

 Three pieces in the Pendulum Papers archive, an Australian literary magazine:

Sequestered

On the Horn

Visiting the Zen Man Al

https://www.pendulumpapers.com/archive/search/?query=Pavle&btn=

Hujan & One-Half (Dec25)

Originally written Oct 2016, re-posted now in the wake of this most recent flooding in Sumatra, Thailand & Sri Lanka. The wading through the water here mentioned in fact later resulted in a skin infection that eventually good Doctor Thanni around in Wong Ah Fook relieved. Serious medical problems can be expected now in the North.

The rains had been falling on the other side of the world too recently. Up in the hills of Montenegro it had been preventing some of the works of mid-autumn. A few days ago Zoran, who worked up in the village where he was born full-time now, driving up daily from the coast, reported it. When there was a break in the weather they were harvesting the potato on Uble. Photos emailed from a friend in Australia showing a political rally of the ruling socialists had been forwarded to Zoran, with an enquiry how the long-time president of the republic was faring. Djukanovic was not one to let slip his hold on the throne, Zoran answered, like his father, not a fan of the left. There was a suggestion of thievery too, as in the time of Tito. Zoran was a supporter of the union with Serbia; opposed to the separation. In Johor, southernmost Malaysia, two days of big bash downpour—hujan besar. Streets flooded, drains unable to cope, bedraggled orang passing under the walkways. Some of the hard-bitten kampung toughs could be found defiantly stomping through the middle of the downpour, in one case a chap standing gazing up the canal, as if taunting the thunder gods. Two nights ago the dark had closed in well before 6 and a boat had been ordered at reception for the supper table. As usual the event had not been visible for a good while, only telltale sound & the flashes. Looking down from the fourth floor window onto a patch of concrete outside an awning, there it was alright, machine-gun strafing the narrow little square. For some reason best known to itself, a pigeon had the not very bright idea to peel off from under the roof of the hotel for somewhere across the way. Good luck to you little birdie! Beating wings, beating; making heavy weather of it. Crossing a couple of lanes later the trouser cuffs were rolled & paddle/waddle gingerly over to the far bank. The working gals around the front were keeping under the walkway, on this dark night a lesser crowd gathered. Come up? Honey.. The full range of the spectrum between the genders was available. Reminded one of a central Java gal down in the south, who believed love-making was the perfect response to a deluge. Barnstorming rain on the one hand, and on the other the smoky mountains nearby bursting with hot rock, encouraged amorousness where that girl hailed from. Habitually living with the past, these big rains often brought the question how in the old days the shepherds had coped up on the mountain sides. Over at Crkvice, not far from Village Uble, they had the second highest rainfall in Europe. The deluge on the Equator was in fact not dissimilar. One could shelter in the lee of a hill, beneath a rocky outcrop, or in one of the many caves of the karst. The sheep and goats themselves knew the terrain; they would find their own shelter. On occasion mother had said brainless sheep would simply hunker down in a tight flock, pretending they were stone, and patiently wait out the heavenly hammer.

Carried Away

 

Hivis orange (faded) lads in their mid-50s, if not older, one hobbling, huddled under cover by the stairs. They were permitted to escape their labour in such weather, even only steady drizzle now. Electric bikes with mounted milkcrates carried the tools of their trade. Garden maintenance, keeping the forest and jungle from our urban amenity; roadside verges in their case. Another one of their number was greatly surprised couple weeks back being slipped a two returning to the digs after supper. A forested area out near Jurong was due to be cleared shortly for an extension of an industrial complex, the newspaper reported, noting that the habitat was a breeding ground or home to a particular butterfly and would not be easily replicated. (Deft soft pedal for devastation, always cannily delivered here.) The other night the retired engineer Mr Cha couldn’t decide whether the beneficiary of the two working on the grassy fringe below was Chinese, or Malay. Definitely hailing from Malaysia, said Mr Cha. Nearing ninety now, Mr Cha had come down as a babe in arms with his parents from Fujian, on the Mainland. The rhetoric of the new Japanese “lady” was of more concern to Mr C. Could the Americans press the Japanese into conflict in those parts? would that finangling be the best way to fix their trade imbalance? Over two hours without cease – and two & one half steady fall. Era had lost ten family members in NW Sumatra last couple days. 1,200 across the region had perished. Mr Lim the plate-collector, whose Bahasa was good, did not know banjir, the term for flood. In his almost seventy years, Lim had never left the island and did not watch television – never watched, it seemed. Likely he was illiterate in any language and on some kind of medication too. (There had been couple sudden verbal outbursts.) Yet it had come down to the man that swi chai could indeed be highly serious, carrying all before it. Decades ago it must have been when it first filtered down to the young Lim, the oldies remembering.

NB. A week later the count of casualties was 1,600, with more rain forecast.