Aaron Maniam (b. 1979)
SELECTED POEMS
Advent Calendar for Troubled Times
A coin, because nothing is priceless anymore, and we know the price of nothing.
A key, forged by an AI that studied every lock ever made – including those inside us.
A splinter from the Tower of Babel, still humming with forgotten words.
The original text of a trade agreement, browning corners immortalised in pdf.
A sliver of polar ice, holding a suspended bubble of 10000-year-old air.
A thumbdrive with the last unbiased algorithm, looking for the last USB port.
A seed genetically coded to grow flags instead of flowers.
A satellite's lens cap, necessary as some things become too sharp to see.
A cancelled postage stamp, sad with the face of a forgotten virtue.
A whisper, smuggled through a firewall, in a dead language.
A drop of oil from a disputed sea, shimmering with its own rainbows.
A grandmother’s needle, threaded with the tatters of a social contract.
Two chess knights—painted in black and white so faded, each looks grey.
A cracked smartphone screen, reflecting a bright, blue, fractured sky.
A feather from a migratory bird that no longer recognises borders.
A single earring, lost in the panic of a sudden checkpoint.
A page from a dictionary. The definition of "neighbour" is blurred.
A spent bullet casing, now a planter for a persistent weed.
A white glove, smudged with the ink of unsigned treaties.
Filament from the world's first incandescent bulb. Still warm.
A child's drawing of the sun, on a prescription pad, in red ink.
A gear from a broken scale, ground smooth from weighing attributed blame.
A ticket for a train that runs only on tracks of mutual understanding. Unused.
A single snowflake, intricate, entire, falling on a heated argument.
A candle, unlit, waits for a hand to shield it from the wind, then set it aflame.
by Aaron Maniam
first published in The Straits Times (25 Dec 2025)
