New Malaysian Writers

Authors :

1 - Adibah Amin , As I Was Passing II

2 - Lee Su Kim , Kebaya Tales

Poets :

1 - Muhammad Amirul Mamat , Life just as it is

Things never turned out the way they were supposed to,dont they?
Words never came out the way they were meant to,arent they?
People never grew up the way they were expected to,wouldnt they?
And life never pan out the way we were always planned to,isnt it?

Cause if they do,or they are,or they would,and if it is..

Then,living would be so easy u will forget how to bend on ur knees,down to ur feet, crying for His Mercy..

Like a dandelion in the windy dessert u will lost---nowhere to be,
Like a blind man in the deep dark night u shall not see..

Until u embraced it for whatever it may be..
No matter how hard one would feel.

2 - Ashvini Sivasengaran , A Beggar's Life

At the end of the street,
lays a lonely beggar,
Fighting the hailstorms,
with no food nor light,
with no beds nor clothes.

He shivers in the cold,
and
burns under the sun,
There he lies...
At the end of the street.

To disembark on a journey,
A journey to his destined end.
Patiently he awaits for his life to end,
Dear oh dear,
there lies the beggar,
he waits for the scraps of food,
Fighter he is,
even a soldier too.

Yet there he is,
offering his delicacies,
to a stray with rumbling tummy too,
with a smile in his face and twinkle in his eyes,
the beggar lived his life.

At the end of the street,
was a beggar,
who's life is not worth living,
filthy and dirty he was,
yet he embraced life in a special
waiting patiently for his time,
His patience is yet to be granted.

so there he is..
At the end of the street.

3 - Muzaffar Ahmad Shah , A ghazal 

Where Should I begin from? My words are like scattered stars,
The fingers rummage for words. Pen is rent asunder. It runs away from me, in reality

I return back to nostalgia; the dead dreams are still in life their,
A castle of fantasia they have built, from broken wishes: a fool’s gold, in reality

The world turns slowly: Great illusion for eternity. Poor departed souls,
Deaf forever! No one can hear them, acceptance is essence. Longing is vain, in reality

Pain is both agony and fertility. Ah! these lessons of Philosophy
They turn my heart brave. It’s on war with divinity. Shameful truth: it stifles, in reality

My heart is an idol worshipper; bring his idols from their height
Enough! I am being cursed by the heavens. Save me. Convert this infidel, in reality

Sins are rolling down from my eyes, bring onto me, The Purity
Now I repent, after no word. Baptize me. Lest end this drama of life, in reality

The moon is imprisoned in daylight, the sun brings anarchy
Moon guides the passengers of night, with her light, not her light, in reality

The effulgence of my rheum, a mirage, for my soul
What guides my mind? Is it filth? Or pursuit for my desires, in reality

The birds on the trees with the image of dawn in their eyes
Arrival of red on the sky, Begins their life. Or counts their time, in reality

Everyone thing is dead, only my eyes alive, they pay homage to my guilt
I have been thirty for years, quench my thirst, or let me be Husain, in reality

Those dear things I lost are forever gone. They envisage my dreams
As you write this envoi Muzzaffar, try to realize what is gone, shapes life, in reality