Polarities by Chelsea Jiamin

there is a rig of rain hovering
in a low cloud on my front porch
in broad daylight. tanks of thunder,
lurking in the flowerbed, trying hard
to be clandestine and quiet. lightning,
weighing in on the perimeters
of this world-weary cottage.

new mountains are sprouting in my
backyard, great heights to scale today,
all these valleys I scrimped and inverted
from yesterday. there will be hell to pay
if we don’t ascend today. maybe these
sinkholes and sea-trenches are merely
icebergs and volcanoes that just
couldn’t get out of bed.

mix sun and moon in a cup
of yin-yang for me to consume
at twilight, when dreams cling
to stars like condensation,
dripping in flecks and falling
into the palm of my hand. I listen
attentively to the meteorologist
and try my hand at forecasting,
my weather-worn cottage sitting
constantly in harm’s way.

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“Fair Weather” image by Flickr user Kevin Dooley

Chelsea SimAs part of an ambition to dabble with languages her entire life, Chelsea Jiamin has ventured into poetry, translation, and theatre. In between all these words, she studies translation, human resource, and psychology. Fluent in English, Mandarin, Cantonese, and Korean, she is passionate about language, linguistics, and literature. She has previously been published in Singaporean anthologies A Luxury We Cannot Afford and SingPoWriMo 2014. She hopes to traverse this haphazard world heavily drunk on words.