Not His National Day

This is the poem I submitted for the 4th Dead Poets Society (Singapore) poetry writing competition.

An observation of people on National Day prompted me to write this piece. I was not concerned with the usual parades, the songs, the people waving flags, the show of hardware. This does not mean that I don't love my country any less, not at all. I was more concerned about the common folks, the down-and-trodden, the homeless, the guy who had just lost his job. Will their thoughts be on their country?

I tried to write about this in this poem, maybe not too successfully. But I still like this piece. Maybe I have grown much cynical as i aged...

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Not His National Day

he was foraging for tins
in green litter bins.
       another day of discards
       and shattered dreams.

overhead in the
         blue sky
           five fighter jets roared by
             trailing exhaust
                   to part
                     in
                      a

              s t a r b u r s t

as thousands below
       in red and white
rippled in applause.

and
just
a few streets away
       he stoops and gathers
       old newspapers.


23-09-2005