Wednesday, June 21, 2006












"my friends, while in geneva"


Summer in Geneva, June 21 - the longest day...night begins about 10.30pm

Friday, June 09, 2006




"a hand woven dopata from baluchistan

a fine piece of cloth, from dera bugti

where a civil war between the military and freedom fighters

continue to claim lives (www.balochvoice.com)

i had chosen this cloth among so many others drapped before me

i had felt the sufferings of the womenfolk

who usually take months to sew a piece of artwork like this

which makes me think how fortunate i am to be me

how lucky i am to be always safe and sound

not ever knowing what it feels like to have a bomb

explode in your backyard

and see the remnants of your children scatter around you ..."

Wednesday, June 07, 2006

june always bring back bitter and sweet memories. For one, my father, whom i loved with all my heart and soul, passed away in 2003. it was the most difficult time for me. at the same time, i was in the midst of excitement, because we had just received word that ISA (Internal Security Act) detainees were being released from detention in Kamunting. despite my father's illness, i had gone to cover the story. On June 2, he died, as I was on my way back from the prison.

one of the ISA detainee, hishamuddin rais (independent writer, film-maker, former student activist) was a friend i had respected for being different, for being his own person, for always pushing the boundaries, eventhough it would later cost him his freedom...he is free now, and i had written these poems for him while he was in detention...april2001-june2003.


I

Hishamuddin Rais (middle)



"Your name is freedom but they tear your wings
And keep you captive in a golden cage;
they hide your radiance under a table
and drown your fragrance with their sweat
Why do they need to leash you
when you will not harm them?
Though they chain you with fury,
and dictate your every move,
your consciousness could never be curtailed...."

II

“It is not fair that I should be here and you
- behind those cold prison bars
It is not right that I should be free
to feel the sun glare in my face
the wind wild in my hair
the rain soaked on my skin
but you - alone behind those iron curtains
can feel nothing.
If you could fly or walk
without your hands being cuffed
you would be on the streets
you would sing your songs
you would write about freedom
you would tear down these walls
of injustice
you will silence the terror
with your bare hands
you would build a new world.
But I, being free, do not know
what to do
do not know if indeed
I am free.
Let me take your place
behind those iron bars
let me pay the price
for you behind those prison walls
let me be the one
to languish in this darkness
for unlike you,
I do not know
what to do with this freedom"

Susan Loone, Bangsar (May 15)

Monday, June 05, 2006

"with an earth like this, who needs hell...?"

these days they attack me
even in my home
why then do they say:
‘there is no place like home?’
i am robbed in my playground
raped in my school,
bombed in cinemas
bus stations
flea markets
and shopping malls
i am the target
no matter who i am
is there a safe place for me to play?
please show me the way

i need refuge
yet no place on earth is safe
your government says I can stay for awhile
yet I am harassed
manhandled
embarrassed
in your airports

i may work for your people
yet I can be whipped
if my boss does not have my papers
from a human being
with dignity
i am reduced to an animal
they call 'the undocumented’

how can you call this place earth
for me it’s a big battle field
sometimes there are no guns
but too often i am killed
not by bullets
but ignorance
by hatred
discrimination
racism
inhumanity
pride

sometimes it depends on which side you’re on
take sides they say
as the ones without sides are the ones hurt the most

so I took sides
and it seems there is no difference
except for the battle of egos

with an earth like this
who needs hell?
no one speaks anymore
all want to play safe
but to play safe for you
is to put me in danger
yet why shoud you care?
thinking of others is not compulsory
these days, such attitudes
are as scarce as the land we all seek
as elusive as the word ‘peace’

Susan Loone
03may06, Bangkok
















"blown away"


















"tears"
















"blood"

if there was a tear-drop everytime someone was hungry
there would be close to 800 million tears a day;
if there was a teardrop for every one who is homeless
there would be close to one billion tears a day;
if there was a tear-drop for the many who are internally displaced in the world
there would be near to 25 million tears a day
how many more tears need i cry - for the evicted, victims of war, conflict and strife, for battered women and children?
if i counted those tears
it would be enough to flood the entire universe !

* pictures by susan loone, 2004, penang.

Sunday, June 04, 2006

"sayang.....
is a malaysian word used to describe love
from the mundane to the most passionate
so i call you sayang and if you ask me
how i would describe us, i would say "peaceful"
gone are the days when i would seek adventure
or excitement..... all i want now is peace
to lie in your arms
and feel the whole world enwrap me
to feel eternity
enclose me in one moment..."

Saturday, June 03, 2006













"Across Asia I seek your voice
into building and plains
atop mountains beyond rivers
i seek your dreams..."










let us venture now into unchartered territories
let's leave behind wind blown images of the past
come place your hands firmly into mine
and i will drag you to a land of infinite freedom
where we can see beyond the colors of our skins
for the only color that matters is our humanity
the only difference is whether we love or hate
not our faiths, our langauges
not our wealth and certainly not our skins
if you probe close enough you will see
there is a rainbow, a kaleidoscope of colors
beyond the pigmentation of our skins
until you dare to seek
these heavenly shades of truth
how can i ever start to tell you what freedom is...?








how can i continue breathing
when my breath refuses to acknowledge
that this is my breath
how can i continue to speak
when my voice does not recognise
the origin of its tones
how can i continue to walk
when one limb fails to correspond
with the other
how do i continue to live
when my life forgets
that it is alive
how do i die
when my death doesn't know how …
believe nothing
no matter where you read it
or who said it
not even if i have said it
unless it agrees with your own reason
and your own common sense - buddha

Friday, June 02, 2006

many words, empty talks
opening borders, closing spaces
smaller world, further distance
increasing voices, deafening silence
tis the current state of affairs
another voice fading in the noise…









if you ask me
god has no face
no color
no sex and no smell
god has no form
no structure
but a fusion of power
pulsing through our veins
god is a passion
burning in our brains
the motivator
of all good things
governing our spirit
making us reach out
for other human beings
on an equal plane
of love and understanding
god is this eternal vision
and desire
to seek for the truth
no matter how many tangles
and barb wires it took
god is this endless want
for freedom of speech
thoughts, actions
and feelings
that would save the whole world
god is this force
that will claim back the rights
of all the living
to breath, live and love
until we see god
in this fashion
until we are not frightened
how do we face the evils
of greed and oppression
if you ask me
god is within me
god is within you
god is a moment
a situation
an era, a country
where love rules unconstrained...










come into my world
where there are no frontiers
horizons are blurred
and the sea
and ever changing hue
of green, red, black, yellow and blue
there are no houses of detention
no rules and regulations
and humans like you and me
can live in harmony
we can love as free as the wind
sleep or wake, dance and sing
and yet have more than we can eat
why?
because it is the fruits of our labour
the strength of our hands
and the intensity of our minds
which bring food to our tables
not the state
not the factories
and certainly not politicians
come into my world
where god is to kind
to tell us to fear
where no man, woman or machine
is big enough to trample on us
we may not own property
and we do not wear gold
coz we do not want anything
to drag us down to earth
just give us the pleasures
of infinite freedom
if you even wondered
about my sweet little world
reach out your hands
and i will gladly show you
the secret window to
its boundless treasures….