Poetry Chapbook is out on Amazon

For all you readers who have asked about where to get a hardcopy of my poetry, thank you for appreciating my craft. In honor of you, the chapbook is now out on Amazon and clicking on the link below takes you there.

Thank you for reading. Much love and wishing you peace, joy, and comfort this New Year’s 2015.

I Want You to Be Whole



Bali, Jan 2014



One of the most famous frescoes by the Italian Renaissance artist Raphael.

The School of Athens (Scuola di Atene), Raphael, 1509-1511

Skirting the outer court,
in the heat and seeking shade
under fig trees;

we are eternal creatures
asking eternal questions;

Caesar raised his fist in the air,
but curled up to die when he saw
his best friend wielding the weapon;

Betrayal shattered his spirit,
petitioning at the institution of promises.

Within a blink do the fallen
go into oblivion?

Alas, what else would I be
but a broken promise
without a throne,
living oceans calling to blind valleys,
deep calling to deep.

© Alicia Khoo

NaPoWriMo Day 15

An Atlas of Consonance

Middle Earth

Come as you are,

worldly possessions carried in one hand,

an odyssey and message that rids us

of unhappiness and discontent.

You truly believe I am alive.

white beards long beards
glassy gazed dead-blow-hammer
tract marked arm scars blood rush to the head
the envious, stampede, fickle-faux, self-made
apartment buildings concrete gas lighting
condominium parking lots panicked search lights
knife blades eyes flash in the pan

so much absurdity

each time you see a platypus,

have a good laugh.

Human language is but a demo-version,

nobody is inventing anything new;

every philosopher played himself out–

the ones who used to live and did not grieve,

so now I am trying to do that,

and you cannot imagine how tough it is,

it’s like talking to a cupboard.

Where roses die and wither, I play my harp;

they call us weeds and nuisance,

but we are Conquerors,

Scared we would go blind if we carried on,

the wind offered to carry us, pushed against

hate-graffiti written paper skin vandalized by words like

‘you wont’, ‘you cant’.

Lighter than the wind but anchored,

flailing forward like a pebble cast from a sling,

made to topple giants. I am David.

They said I was a slave to failure so I learnt to run,

believing in the sun’s existence

when there was no evidence

to love myself in the face of hate when I had reasons to

burn the bridges that light my way.

Open your mouth,

here’s another pearl that regresses to an oyster;

Now we shall sing forever.

© Alicia Khoo

NaPoWriMo Day 14

Note from writer–

A poem made possible from a collage of three pieces by brilliant fellow poets:

Jesse S. Mitchell, Das Sunlight


Ilya Fostiy, Platypus.


, Despite (Senile Ramblings from a wise old homeless man pt 3)


To Die For


At the site of a meteorite strike

untamed pressure turns carbon

into unalterable stone

that men shed blood for,

subdued by capitalism;

Either a bearer of glory

or a proper cutting tool

of geochemistry;


I overpower.

I tame,

a testament to light and time,

the pursuit of happiness

and drunken immortality.

© Alicia Khoo

NaPoWriMo Day 9

The word ‘diamond’ derives from ancient Greek adamao, meaning ‘I tame’ or ‘I subdue’ or the related word adamas, which means ‘hardest steel’ or ‘hardest substance’. http://chemistry.about.com/cs/geochemistry/a/aa071601a.htm

Johari’s Hierarchy of Needs

You cannot be angry at being robbed of something you never knew existed.

Like time, space, and the right to exist.

Privacy. Joy. Consciousness.

The freedom to express that consciousness.

Logic. Dignity. Minimum Wage.

The bounty of the earth.

And to be able to stand on any patch of soil on this planet

without being called an illegal alien

when you actually are home.

So why are we angry?

© Alicia Khoo

In the aftermath of the Worker’s Party winning the by-election,

Singapore, January 2013.

An Epic of Nails

epic of nails

on a drum a painter sits//

smearing ochre pollen onto cobalt


fingertips rusting with

electric violence.

He burns canvas in mercury//

his liberty was born of Goa/

nails scrape fluid onto the form of


with it he creates a


whose ink spills


goddess, heiress, martyr;

madonna, whore?!

they are found distilled


generations of

slaughtered intellectuals/

she writes in a temple with

tibetan nuns//

sonnets, haikus, ideologies of

dangerous artists/

she pens a letter to him in ancient


A truce of Gilgamesh//

In it, there is

no us against


© Alicia Khoo

September 2012

Written on a boat between Phuket and Phi Phi Island

A dedication to Finger Painting Artist Alex Rodrigues