Space (spoken word)

Full transcript can be found here.


  • Jason, for the ‘Asgard and Astronauts’ reference, and for loaning his house and pool.
  • Jes and Von, for enduring my humiliating first take (in cui shirt), and for vetting subsequent takes.
  • God, for all things, and particularly for incepting this post in CSC Ado last Monday.


Mel thinks that some words don’t look like what they mean. For instance, ‘moribund’ looks cute, and ‘felicity’ reminds him of a cat. Currently, he likes the word ‘stravaig’, though he hasn’t had much opportunity to use it. And he always forgets the word ‘bildungsroman’. He has never wanted to be an astronaut; he had/has higher aspirations. He is a Summoner: Miti Mumway ❤ 


Blood, gushed out. Tears, like a dam unleashed. She collapsed, her heart- frozen and fragile. Death so imminent. Bright, the light. Squinting small eyes. Desperate, she reached. Bright, the light. Frost to fire, Darkness to light, Death to life. He was. … Continue reading


At the shake of a head, The inversion of His mighty thumb, The world dulls to darkness. With a crack of thunder, The tears well up, The stormy winds blow rain in buckets. Bawling, a string fist crashes down, Shaking … Continue reading

As I Write

As I write
These words of thought
Flowing, prancing, skipping, swirling
But never do they come to naught.

Since when do words break free
In a world of tools and rules,
Accounting reports and standards cast in stone
But now they’re free to roam like blissful fools.

As I write
A thought springs by
How about the journey that,
Which flows and grows and so I try.

Years ago in college days,
My Teacher imparted eloquence in writing
Regarding the world, its quagmires, its aspirations,
Global warming, gender inequality and technological miracles – ever so inviting.

As I write
It’s easier for me to begin to see
How much I’ve grown, in my writing and in person
Over the years the yarn is spun of what I’d write and who I’d be.

And yet again the reel recoils,
“One fine day, Peter and Jane
Found a missing dog,” and so the story would go
Of how it used to be, simple and easy, without a bane.

As I write
These letters holler out,
Scampering about in this white field holding hands,
Some tall, some short, but all with a story about.

Ahh yes, t’was my dearest mum
Who first taught this little kid
What these 26 friends could do –
Painting amazing journeys and more of what hid.

As I write
A smile breaks loose,
Because I know the words that lie ahead
Something most vital, most sweet, something I would never lose.

Ages ago in my mother’s womb,
Before this child would ever break loose,
He had already written out that which would be
Something most vital, most sweet, something I would never lose.

As I write
He writes a trillion more
Beautiful stories, wonderful journeys, prancing and flowing,
And at the end – the numinous door.

But from now till then,
Yes we must, write the stories whose
Ours to write with He who knows what lies ahead
Something most vital, most sweet, something I would never lose.

Yes, as I write, he writes
I know He knows, and on His face a smile breaks loose,
For He knows what words that lie ahead of me
Something most vital, most sweet, something I would never lose.

God’s Plan.

[Justin Kong]