Journey to the Child’s Heart

Take the first flight to the Land of Recreation
And learn how to get engaged in leisure grounds

Move up north to River Daft
And cultivate asinine amusement customs

Go on to the Forest of Yarn on foot
And concoct daft anecdotes

Get into a boat and sail to Island of Songs
And croon droll mantra

Fly to the Republic of Chortles
And seek mirth despite the fractious response

Drive twenty miles to Follywood
And star as the self-proclaimed fool

Return to the Fault of Life
And quip at any gaffe

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Published in: on Monday, October 13, 2008 at 11:33 pm  Leave a Comment  
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no longer

the phone
on the table
is never quite
the same again.
not after what
the pink watch
has done
just by being.
the crooked line
has straightened
while the grey
has so darkened.

Published in: on Thursday, October 9, 2008 at 11:10 pm  Comments (2)  
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Al-Qaeda

Lifted the morning truck
And built a trillion lego bricks
If you ask me what I had done today
I’d say I’d drowned the abyss

Combed the tresses of Obama
And coffeed with a young McCain
If you ask me what I had done today
I’d say I’d consumed the black hole

Nothing is possibly impossible
Not for Alexander, Edison or Armstrong
And certainly not for me
Romance might not be my cup of tea
But I think I know I love you

Whispering honey into your ears
Spreading jam on your toast
If you ask me what I will do tomorrow
I’d say I’d smash Al-Qaeda

Surprising you with a stalk of rose
Giving you a warm embrace
If you ask me what I will do tomorrow
I’d say I’d turn back the clock

Nothing is possibly impossible
Not for Ali, Phelps or Bolt
And certainly not for me
Romance might not be my cup of tea
But I think I know I love you

People say actions speak louder than words
But I’m not an action figure
So don’t expect the expected

Romance might not be my cup of tea
But I think I know I love you

Well, I might just, kiss you

Published in: on Saturday, September 27, 2008 at 11:36 am  Comments (3)  
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Mdm Helen

Working the foul of the day
She calls for the need to pay

Nibbling the juice that burns
She yanks the chance that spurns

Oaring with feathers of lead
She toils to stay in red

Painting the whore with pride
She wills through her bore of tide

Chasing cars of yesteryears
She bellies herself through in tears

Published in: on Thursday, August 14, 2008 at 11:59 pm  Leave a Comment  
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i need paradise

the tang of kiwi
dominated my senses
as i traipsed
the avenue of tenses

i imbibed the vodka
the angels proffered
as they tongued
proverbs in vonlenska

a fire licked me
like a luscious tsunami
with a chill peppermint
and a vogue hint

lionise my clobbered soul, lord
patronise me with your clouting chord.

Published in: on Friday, July 25, 2008 at 7:02 pm  Comments (5)  
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the heart

and i wonder
if the stone
you possess
is transferrable,
‘cos after seeing you
dispel all the fakes
and makes of modern takes,
it sure looks
exceedingly desirable.
is the stone
you have in you
transferrable?
i wonder.

Published in: on Tuesday, July 22, 2008 at 11:38 pm  Comments (4)  
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the struggle that flatters to deceive, that seems so distantly near…

it grips
and trips
i, me, myself.

hate it.

Published in: on Monday, June 30, 2008 at 4:04 pm  Comments (2)  
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Exit

She turned,
Just in time
To meet his eyes.

Teardrops
Could have been
Visible yet.

Childhood
Memories
Cheered hauntingly.

Bath play,
Piggyback,
Merry-go-round.

Funny
How they seemed
So yesterday.

This love
Was shared with
Much abhorrence.

But still,
She won’t trade
Anything else.

The roots
Had dug deep
In the muscles.

When cut,
They hurt with
Shameless muteness.

Lord Time
Had decreed
Their destiny.

Depart,
Both shall do
Both shall remain.

No words,
No cuddle,
And no secrets.

The eyes
Could just scream,
“I love you much!”

Published in: on Wednesday, June 25, 2008 at 11:27 pm  Comments (1)  
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the One who never came

The cries were heard
The bliss was communal
The cradle was rocked
The sustenance was wholesome
The T.L.C. was showered
The kinship was established
The future was built
Our lives were complete
Because you came

(this was pretty much written for my minute seven-week-old who had to go.)

Published in: on Thursday, April 10, 2008 at 1:48 pm  Comments (1)  
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after eighteen years

santa could not believe his luck
when the purple bells
he had been searching the last eighteen years
dropped right in front of him
while he was chewing his mind on the magazine
as he sat on the loo
that was built on the exact ground
where ten thousand foot soldiers perished in a nuclear attack
which was quite a mishit
on the part of a certain adolf
born of a woman not born of woman.

he picked them up
and fresh memories of
what had happened eighteen years earlier
brought back waves of sorrow
with a tinge of thrill
that could explain why all he could muster there and then
was an ounce of salty tear
from the corner of the left eye
which was the only functional window to the hardened soul
after years of pounding from the loss they labelled inevitable
because of his obstinate attitude and aptitude.

the bells jingled
and he was more than willing
to laugh at his own misfortune
so beautifully wretched
that he could not bear to curse anything or anyone but himself
who had chosen to soften the redness of the sore
that was growing and glowing with honour
from twenty thousand leagues beneath
causing the entire building to rattle with triumph
which was so sorely missed
the last eighteen years of his motherless life on earth.

he gaped

and yawed

and died

a happy lonesome brute.

Published in: on Thursday, April 3, 2008 at 2:53 pm  Comments (1)  
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Redlight

I had the curious urge,
But all I could do was to scratch it.

The consciousness oozed from the wound.

If the pain was existent, it should be spelt r-a-i-n,
Because it pelted upwards.

That left me home and pried.

Published in: on Wednesday, March 5, 2008 at 12:37 am  Comments (3)  
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Salt on Candy

I only asked for a simple story
But you went on and delivered a sermon.

I only needed a small favour
But you let the whole world know how big your help was.

I only wanted to be your Valentine
But you gave me the greatest bunch of flowers that meant nothing.

I only cared about who you were
But you only cared about what you did.

(a simple tribute to V-Day)

Published in: on Tuesday, February 12, 2008 at 11:34 pm  Comments (8)  
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pacify her

today,
i asked daddy
for my pai zeh zeh.
he told me i’m a big girl,
i don’t need my pai zeh zeh.
i disagreed. i asked him for my
pai zeh zeh. then he went on asking
me if barney, bj, baby bob, elmo, woody,
buzz lightyear, boo, huckle, nemo have pai
zeh zeh in their mouths, and each time I said,
“no.” then, he went on saying, “you don’t
need pai zeh zeh then.” i still disagree,
though i have to admit i was almost
won over. pai zeh zeh has been
and will always be my prized
possession. no one can
take it away from me.
not my daddy or
my mummy.
period.

Published in: on Monday, December 10, 2007 at 11:51 pm  Comments (16)  
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Versatility

A pointed guru
You can seek if you aren’t wise
Enough to blossom

A childish plaything
To those whose sense of bearing
Is impregnable

A shrewd lifesaver
For men at sea or airborne
In times of peril

A general term
Encompassing compassion
Regardless of use

Published in: on Sunday, December 9, 2007 at 11:23 pm  Comments (2)  
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Jenny

The trees and flowers
The lake and swans
Even Monet
Would have trouble
Painting these

Sitting on the bench
Staring into spaces
Jenny’s wrinkles
Display trains of thoughts
And experiences abound

A-ma! It’s time to go home!
Her grandchildren voice
Go away! I still want to admire this beauty!
She retorts

Char Kway Teow and Kopi-o
Nasi Lemak and Laksa
Surely food paradise here
Is better than
Heaven above

Chewing with the chopsticks
Gulping down the caffeine
Jenny’s appetite
Could’ve put Bourdain
To shame by miles

Ma! It’s time to go home!
Her children voice
Go away! I still want to taste God’s goodness!
She retorts

Teresa and Sok Hong
Fatimah and Ah-pek
Friends that loved
Neighbours that cared
Only memory remains

Standing at the doors
Looking down the lanes
Jenny’s busy mind
Constantly searching for
The distant recollections

Girl! It’s time to go home!
Her parents voice
Go away! I still want to reminiscent the past!
She retorts

The jade and the gold
The hanky and the panky
It would be difficult
For anyone
To grind them to pieces

Lying on the wooden bed
Tearing at counts of blessings
Jenny’s whole being
Is overwhelmed
With familiar emotions

Jenny! It’s time to go home!
Her husband voices
Yes, Dear! I am going home now.
She relents

The peace and comfort
The joy that lasts
Absolutely no one now
Could stop her
From going home

Closing the eyes
Shutting the breaths
Jenny’s soul
Is finally taken away
By her loved ones gone ahead

Published in: on Friday, December 7, 2007 at 10:55 pm  Comments (2)  
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Faces

This morning
I rose in bed
At the poignant tune
Of the robin

Towel over face
I shuddered
At the thought
Of facing me

I did not know
Which face
I should don
For yet another day

On the train
There they were
Faces
Different ones

The lady with mascara
The boy in spectacles
The man with pimples
The baby in deep sleep

Were they
Passing clouds?
Or just
Significant beings?

At the hospital
There they were too
Faces after faces
Very different ones

The doctor with looks
The old man in ICU
The nurse with boobs
The girl in ward 21

Were they
Passing clouds?
Or just
Significant beings?

Back in the closet
He told me again
Those faces I saw
Were masks un-unveiled

I told him
To go away
I did not want
To be swayed

He said he knew
I was desperate
To know
What lay beneath

I always wondered
Behind all the smiles
The sorrows, the angers
What would I see?

Tonight
He told me
To pick one
Again

A dilemma
I wanted to know
Yet
I didn’t want to hurt

Not the paramedic
He’s a nice guy
How could you
Let me choose him?

Mind’s in a whirl
Soul’s in a twirl
Heart’s in a swirl
Body’s in a……

His face was removed
I saw nothing
But flesh and blood
Like the other day

On the train
There they were
Faces
Different ones

The vixen with mascara
The nerd in spectacles
The dude with dimples
The elderly lady in deep sleep

Were they
Passing clouds?
Or just
Significant beings?

For yet another day
I had donned
The face
I did not know

I removed the towel
From my face
And stared
Into the mirror

The melted nose
And mouth
And the lidless eyes
– Gifts from heaven

The midnight news
Bore my face on screen
Hospital janitor
Wanted for murder

Published in: on Wednesday, December 5, 2007 at 11:07 pm  Comments (6)  
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In Memory…

This one’s dedicated to all those who love and care about the five men.

Run

I want to run, run away,
from the light of the shadows
to the shadows of the light.
The world I’m running towards
is the world the world is shunning.
From the lowest rung of this ground,
I long to climb to the highest tier of that.
Don’t mourn my loss,
for it’s a gain to both you and me.
When you open your eyes,
you shut the doors left open.
See that you keep looking up,
so that you stop looking down.
This may be a farewell for now,
but it’s only for a little while.
Before the weight collapses
And the collapse weighs
Just let me run, run away.

You might want to say something here.

Published in: on Wednesday, November 28, 2007 at 12:36 am  Comments (6)  
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Bitter Sweet

If love could buy me daylight,
I would gladly fall head over heels over it.
The truth is,
It spends more time robbing me of daylight.
So, don’t blame me for stinking love:
Love is justly blind faith.

Published in: on Monday, November 5, 2007 at 11:58 pm  Comments (10)  
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don’t tell them

don’t tell them
don’t tell them what they don’t know
don’t tell them what they know
don’t tell them what they want to know
don’t tell them what they don’t want to know

they don’t know at all
they don’t know what they don’t know
they don’t know what they know even
they don’t know what they want to know
they don’t know what they don’t want to know
they simply don’t know

don’t tell them
don’t tell them at all
simply, don’t tell them

you know what i’m telling you
don’t you?

Published in: on Thursday, November 1, 2007 at 4:34 pm  Comments (7)  
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faith

the rice
that had served
so well
has turned out
to be
our undoing

is there
anything
anything at all
that’s worthy of
your, my, our
faith?
Published in: on Wednesday, October 24, 2007 at 12:31 am  Comments (13)  
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root

can one’s
existence
be rootless?

regard
the world
domicile?

be
the late
basis?
Published in: on Tuesday, October 23, 2007 at 12:36 am  Comments (6)  
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No options

A failed poet
once said,
“If I can’t
write poetry,
then indubitably,
I could only turn to
masticating veal,
swigging rum,
championing debauchery
with Junoesque lasses of Soho
and wagers on table,
all allied facets
of pleasant pleasurables,
liken to painting poetry –
judicious words
from an unfailed poet
in Sir Wormwood.”

To that,
perhaps amen.

Published in: on Thursday, October 18, 2007 at 11:59 pm  Comments (7)  
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Changing Course

The Omega marks the Alpha
Sealing with the epilogue
That evokes the bravura
Of trials and tribulations
Of blessings and edifications

Time the commander
Takes charge of his prospect
Diverting route of progress
With ambitious navigation
That leads to the Promised Land

Published in: on Friday, September 28, 2007 at 12:21 am  Comments (6)  
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Quenched

The throat

Parched under heat
Flaking in layers
Rough gradient
Sore loser

Chilly fever
Smooth slope
Luscious in bite
Lemonade drip by drip

Soothed
Ice age throttled

Published in: on Wednesday, September 19, 2007 at 11:32 pm  Comments (8)  
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Alpha

I sat in the dark room, thinking that I was alone and waiting for the master. Lo and behold, his hand slipped into mine. Before I could react, his deep sullen voice echoed softly into my ear, “Take this. It is what you are asking for.” A tiny scroll was conveniently placed on my hand. He disappeared a fraction of a second later.

I stepped out of the room and unrolled the scroll.

The Great Wealth Recipe

The haima of cockerel
On the countenance of slumber
Is like a Mona Lisa
To the imp of prosperity

Fortitude is the key
In the wait of the ghoul
For the juice shall be savoured
And the glorious riches shall be served

I smiled.

Published in: on Saturday, September 8, 2007 at 12:21 am  Comments (1)  
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Enough

Look into my eyes.
You know I love you.

How could you doubt me?
Had I not done enough?
I have always believed,
I have never stopped trying.
So, I thought you were with me,
I assumed you would work for it.
How wrong, how naïve,
How disillusioned I have been.
Don’t blame me,
I’m just trying to make things right.
Please forgive me,
I’ll make it all up to you.
I wish this have never happened,
I hope this will stop pretty soon.
I’m doing it not quite
In the name of the Trinity,
But in the name of our love –
Something which I know you still have.

Look into my eyes.
You know I love you.

Published in: on Sunday, August 26, 2007 at 11:59 pm  Comments (3)  
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Two Minds

the nameless

I seek seclusion
In the middle of all these
Hurly-burly verve

Yet hanker for succour
Amid the hubbub that broke
Out from the nameless

Call for desperate
Measures could not have arrived
More timely than now

Published in: on Tuesday, August 21, 2007 at 10:57 am  Comments (6)  
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the crop of hair

the crop of hair

it had been a symbol of my childhood
it had seen a great deal of actions
it had gone through rain or shine
it had come of age in colours

it did not flinch in anxiety
it did not waver in doubt
it just sat there silently
it just waited patiently

then they came
the scissors
they cut
it’s off

poor
me

Published in: on Sunday, August 19, 2007 at 11:53 pm  Comments (2)  
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this pain

look

this pain
you have engraved
in my heart

telling me earlier
would not have
lessened it

it cuts across
like nails on a blackboard
and it pierces deep
like a pencil thrust into an ear

teeth into skin
hands into boiling oil
a chopper into fingers
a dagger into throat

blood
would have soothed this pain
for it could mask it

but
how you have punished me
with this silent killer

i could only wish
that someone would end
this pain
i could only hope
that someone would end
this you

look again

Published in: on Monday, August 13, 2007 at 10:49 pm  Comments (6)  
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The Beast

I was sitting by the beach
Building my sandcastle

When it appeared
And pulled up to me
It bared its ravenous teeth
And sank its claws into my flesh

My head was swimming
As it huffed and puffed
My heart was thumping
As it moved within me

The pain inflicted
Was beyond description
The joy ensued
Was oddly enthralling

Then it froze for a second
And allowed them to swim
While I caught my breath
Like tomorrow’s the last

It wagged its tail
And bounced to safety
Then I tossed and turned
Looking for sanity

I continued sitting by the beach
Building my sandcastle

Published in: on Tuesday, August 7, 2007 at 9:57 pm  Leave a Comment  
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a reason

the lord of the flies
had ghostwritten
the cider house rules
like clockwork orange

Published in: on Wednesday, August 1, 2007 at 11:18 pm  Comments (2)  

simplicity

the bud
the bud
is growing.
nip it.
no,
tit it
before
the dawn settles.

simplicity is a rare commodity in the modern human race. few would stop and ponder over it. few would want to have anything to do with it. we were meant to enjoy it, but the world is ever evolving rapidly that we see it superfluous. why should we need it, some say, if the world can offer us so much more? times have changed, some say, so move with times and ignore it. without it, complacency and arrogance have taken root, leading to the evil complexity exposing its snares, a situation which most could not recognise or reconcile. seriously, complexity has become more rampant. times of wretchedness are looming large. if only we could all pause and observe and think. simplicity might just save the day.

Published in: on Wednesday, July 18, 2007 at 8:37 am  Comments (5)  
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Bucephalus has done it!

the shameless lions writing circle awards had just been given out. and yes, my beloved adopted lion, Bucephalus, has won the best-looking lion award! though he’s placed 4th, he’s beaten 44 other lions in looks! way to go, Bucephalus! wait, he’s going to say something…

“MEEEOWWW! thank you master c.s., for picking me! i have always wanted to say this, but was never given a chance. thank you members of the jury for believing that i might just pip brat pitt in the looks department! and thank you all for supporting me! from now on, i shall start learning from my master, and hopefully i will churn out some decent writing pieces half as good as my master’s. let me start with this poem:

hear ye o hear ye!
bucephalus is here!
to deliver and conquer!
to undivide and raise the tide!
so be fearful, yet respectful!
for this is only the beginning!

MEEEOWWW!”

well done, Bucephalus!

certainly you have not heard the last of him.

Published in: on Friday, July 13, 2007 at 3:22 pm  Comments (4)  
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the paper i picked up today

the paper i picked up today
it moved me a little

doubts about what i do
it kept feeding them

the world seemed blind
surely i’m not

i could crush and toss it aside
but its veins rained on me

stories unfolded one by one
thomas revealed two by two

it seemed completely right
for condemnation to take charge

i spoke forth in fear
for the goodness of all

let the cubs and kittens rule
the fate of future state

dust and ashes wept agreeably
in the hope of peace

i moved it a little
the paper i picked up today

Published in: on Friday, July 6, 2007 at 8:15 am  Comments (17)  
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red

red

he stood there

looking aggressive

his anger crystal clear

almost embarrassing

the evil of love

had left him humiliated

the rising impatience

threatened more hostilities

i had to
take an offensive stance
i had to
counter with violence
    i had to
    i had to
i had
      i
Published in: on Saturday, June 30, 2007 at 4:48 pm  Comments (5)  
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the wall

there it is
another wall
nothing’s amiss
just standing tall

been through this
at the last fall
east coast’s bliss
with the maiden’s ball

love paralysis
enhanced desperate call
to find the basis
for a brand new mall

candies with kiss
displayed in the hall
emotions that hiss
moved the heart of gall

probe, test the oasis
bite, taste the softest of all

drip

crack

drop

gone

wish

Published in: on Thursday, June 21, 2007 at 2:11 pm  Leave a Comment  
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The Bell

I
stop short
of trying hard
to turn my life
the way I intend it
after much thinking and ranting
obviously aware of consequences
that might haunt
a pathetic
me
Published in: on Sunday, June 17, 2007 at 11:58 am  Comments (11)  
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The Fountain of Youth

Yesterday I discovered that there is a fountain of youth in me
And I had not realised that it’s been there for quite a while
Maybe it was never really there earlier
Perhaps it started off as a puny spark in my life
But most definitely it had slowly gained ground
And evolved into the something that is of great stature now
    Oh my, oh my
    How could I have missed it for so long?
    It has grown within me for my taking
    Patiently waiting for me to take complete control
    Only a celestial communication could actually make me
    Appreciate the presence of the fountain of youth
Now that I’ve found it
I never ever want to let it go
I fancy maximising its potential
And ensure that reaping off its benefits
Is as simple as ABC or 1-2-3
Embracing and beholding this rare gemstone
    Hold on a minute or two
    Am I seeing things?
    Is this actually what I covet?
    Can I be fooling myself or am I being fooled?
    This enigma of the fountain
    Does it really bring me youth?
Published in: on Saturday, June 16, 2007 at 2:51 pm  Comments (7)  
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enjoyable, yet disturbed

had a rather great time in hong kong, though the weather was generally hot. all the shopping, walking, family bonding, partying at disneyland, etc. Faith’s really grown a lot. we all cherished our time spent with her during this vacation. the only problem we had with her was she wanted to be carried most of the time. guess she wanted to build the hercules in the two of us. 🙂

went to shenzhen (china) on wednesday for a day’s tour. other than the fact that we were ‘conned’ into various ‘unchartered’ locations, i must mention that this trip and my stay in hong kong had offered me some sights that made me think. you see, the backdrop of hong kong (and shenzhen) is often made up of short, old, run-down houses and tall, modern, well-built skyscrapers. this contrast of old and new, poor and rich, couldn’t be described in any way. and this contrast could be seen amongst the people on the streets too. one scene in shenzhen, in particular, will stay in my mind for quite a while. as we were walking up an overhead bridge, we saw this woman carrying a sleeping baby and sitting on the floor. she was picking and eating some discarded rice from an overturned garbage bin. i did not feel for her, to be honest. but my heart ached when i saw the baby. perhaps i have a girl myself and i know the needs of a child. i couldn’t imagine how this mother could meet her baby’s needs. i really felt and still feel sad for the young life. 😦

equality in the human race is just a myth. this, i acknowledge. but what can we do to minimise this inequality? we have people finding food from bins. we have p hilton getting away with a mysterious medical condition. we have african children walking around carrying fatal viruses. we have others splurging on lavish wedding celebrations. we…?

but of course, i’m probably looking at what’s obvious to the eyes. perhaps, deep inside every heart there is a soul that can be satisfied easily. all this soul needs is a rare gem called…

Contentment

Hell to those who despise
For they know not what we need
We may not have them all
But we do have each other
Which means so much more
Than what this freaking world
Could barely offer

You are all i care
You are all i have
You are all i need
And that’s fucking so enough

contentment

    and this is what i seriously need to cultivate in my own life.

Published in: on Sunday, June 10, 2007 at 2:10 am  Comments (3)  
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Sunrise

sunrise

Sunrise
That was all I asked for
You told me I would get it

First day
You said you had a gruelling night
Second day
You said you had forgotten about it
Third day
You said the weather forecast wasn’t good

It went on and on and on
And that day never came

Differences were there for all to see
But I chose to hang on
I chose to have faith
I chose to believe

Sunrise
That was all I asked for
You told me I would get it

Fourth day
You said you were on duty
Fifth day
You said your health had failed
Sixth day
I said forget it

Once bitten twice shy
Only a fool like me was blind

Similarities were there for all to see
Now I chose to take off
I chose to have faith
I chose to believe

Sunrise
That is all I ask for
He tells me I will get it

First day
We enjoy sunrise

And I wonder
Will you ever have sunrise?

Published in: on Thursday, May 31, 2007 at 2:59 pm  Comments (2)  
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they, you and i

you were there
with me on the way up
you were talking
when I planted it
they came together
it was only awhile
but they were great
they felt really sensational
you were stunned
speechless for a moment
did I confess it?
i could no longer be sure
did you bear the same?
you could no longer be sure

you were there
ever charming from a distance
you were talking
when i could just observe
we never really came together
it was quite awhile
they looked great
they seemed really luscious
i was close to being stunned
speechless for a moment
did I wish it?
i could no longer be sure
did you bear the same?
you could no longer be sure

all i know
that the one next to me
will never be you

Published in: on Wednesday, May 30, 2007 at 5:08 pm  Comments (9)  
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the girl at the window

mum,
who’s that girl
at the window?
i don’t like the way
she looks at me.
i’m trying hard
to concentrate here.
am I doing
something wrong here?
please, mum,
tell her to go away.
the girl at the window,
she’s scaring
the wits out of me.

son,
who’s that girl
at the window?
i don’t like the way
she looks at you either.
concentrate and
don’t be bothered yet.
no, you are not doing
something wrong here.
please, son,
chew up the man’s brain now.
the girl at the window,
we’re going
to finish her up after this.

Published in: on Tuesday, May 29, 2007 at 9:49 pm  Comments (7)  
Tags:

the original

i made a blunder when writing the poem for Bucephalus. Seamus had actually set a 48-word limit to the poem or prose for each lion. i missed that part and went on writing one with over 150 words. i then spent some time editing the original and came up with the 48-word piece now published on the sidebar. brevity is a virtue i don’t have, so it was tough.

but Seamus was encouraging. he said i should publish my original piece for my lion, recognising the fact that the effort should not be wasted. i agreed and here’s the first one (if you are interested):

Bucephalus

The greatest animal of antiquity
Could only serve and die for
The greatest ruler of mankind
Alexander the Great

Dead and buried
At Jalalpur Sharif
The gods of the heavens
Have eternal designs
No man would grasp
As they stirred
The soul and spirit
Who had battled, trampled, bitten
Foes of the sovereign Macedon
And has it resided
In the regal body
Of the bona fide king of animals –

A lion
That reflects strength in unity
Power in community
Through the faces of all on earth

Fear no more of
Thy shadow and nemesis
For thou has yet
Another grand master
In the mould
Of a certain Canterbury Soul
Whose daily rewards for thee
Are immense and sure –
Poetry in the morn
Caress beneath the mane
Fruits that gratifies
Protection guarded with honour

So, go forth and fight with the Soul
Serving faithfully
Preparing to die valiantly
Just as thou had done at Hydaspes

notice the changes made. quite drastic…and the meaning’s different. i like both, each with its own purpose.

i’ve done my part for my lion and the circle. i certainly hope Bucephalus will continue to shine here and in the circle.

how about you? have you adopted a lion? 🙂

Published in: on Monday, May 28, 2007 at 9:12 am  Comments (2)  
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Flip

We are on the edge
Neither of us dares to choose
Let the flip of the coin decide
First flip yours, second flip mine

Eyes closed, fingers crossed
Up, up and away
Palm enclosure
Head it is –

Adversity begets the supremacy of Man

Go on
Live your life

Eyes closed, fingers crossed
Up, up and away
Palm enclosure
Tail it is –

Life is so immaterial that death becomes material

Go on
Lose my life

Guess this is it
Parting has never been easier

Published in: on Thursday, May 10, 2007 at 10:57 pm  Comments (7)  
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baggage

baggage

Published in: on Wednesday, May 9, 2007 at 10:34 pm  Comments (3)  
Tags:

Heist

Warmth skinned from within
As heaved through the feminine lodge
Solace and darkness so yearned
At fresh flesh genesis fleeced

Frowned upon palpable silence
Under barrages of soul bellow
Innocence’s divine origin
Now ever deflowered ’cross ages

Visions oh so chaste
By minutes gates of foul exposed
Tongues of cherubic nature shunned
To wag the wag’s the pun

Socks worked for agape
Unto self could sure be done
Wise fools’ calculated acumen
In lust trust then shall build

Fruits from trinity raided
With weapon o’ mess destruction dubbed time

Published in: on Tuesday, May 8, 2007 at 11:48 pm  Leave a Comment  
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cold coffee

the coffee you made me tonight was cold, really cold

the bleak weather that commenced the twilight of celebration
the unrequited calls that heralded the destiny by dinnertime
the sporadic ripostes that pervaded the tête-à-tête
the desolate gaze that was revealed in the eyes of intimacy
the vociferous hush that sustained itself athwart the table
the callous intention that turned out well expectedly
the sorrowful torrents that matched the storm stride for stride
the desultory oaths that was crafted in the vacuity of love
the deceitful psyche that could veil all transgressions
the nefarious benevolence that metamorphosed wrath into exoneration
the fecund blade that propagated the kernels of condemnation
the final embrace that was cherished in the wee hours of life

the coffee you made me tonight was cold, really cold

Published in: on Saturday, May 5, 2007 at 1:16 am  Comments (4)  
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powerful

i was going through some Holy Sonnets by John Donne, and i felt ministered. i feel that i have to share this particular one with a powerful message here:

Batter my heart, three-person'd God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but Oh, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

i don’t think i’ll ever reach Donne’s level in poetry. but i’m glad to have the chance to read his work.

more about John Donne below:

http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/donne/
http://www.online-literature.com/donne/
http://www.island-of-freedom.com/DONNE.HTM

Published in: on Wednesday, May 2, 2007 at 10:27 am  Comments (2)  
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Songs of the Father and His Son

love

David

Beholden with deep gratitude
Not knowing the grounds
Of which this grace came to being
An austere life devoid of fanfare
Hallowed nuptials with a gorgeous nymph
Wishing an epoch of gaiety
Along came an unblemished progeny
A gratification that surpasses my own love

Solomon

Yielded by the heavens
Farmed by the man and woman of old
Pure in the heart
Virtuous in the mind
Nothing in the avenue
To barricade the tender devotion
Reserved for the one
Whose embrace tightens my soul

Published in: on Tuesday, May 1, 2007 at 12:07 pm  Comments (4)  
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Promising

Look at the beautiful night sky
With the twinkling stars and the elegant moon
It certainly promises much
The cool sea breeze
And the salty smell of humidity
They definitely promise much

How I wish all these had come earlier
You know, we could have really lived happily ever after
We could have realistically grown old together
Pity the human nature is such
That we have our differences
That we could not manage them well enough

Feel the sand around here
The grains are ever so smooth, so fine
Just like how they used to be
Hear the tides rolling in
They sing so merrily in our ears
Bringing back fresh waves of sweet memories

How I wish the human nature is such
Consistent, everlasting and adaptable
That we can be as gay as we want to be
Pity Mother Nature is such
That we’ll always find it a tall order
To keep up with her standard of serendipity

As I observe the contours of your body
As I caress the hardened pounds of muscles
I thank God for the blessings we’d had together
I long to look into your soulful eyes again
I long to kiss your sensual lips again
But I’m just too afraid to face you

She’s calling me now
She’s telling me that there is hope
She’s begging me to turn myself in
Life’s like that, she says
Ups and downs, loss and gain
Health and sickness, life and death

He looked at the beautiful night sky again. With the twinkling stars and the elegant moon, it looked promising. Life could still go on. Do it, she said. He reached for his cellular and made the call. Then, he picked up his lover’s head and stood by the body. He closed his eyes and absorbed her singing voice. He was looking forward to his new life.

The first car arrived. Two of them walked cautiously towards him with their pistols in their hands. He offered no resistance. He was taken into the car as others began their work. With the window halfway up, he could hear one speak to another. “One male body. Still searching for his head.”

Published in: on Saturday, April 28, 2007 at 5:09 pm  Comments (4)  
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she?

woe to me
for i do not comprehend my puny mind
which thought it had all but figured out
knowing right from wrong

love and hate
admiration and disgust
seem to be tiny shades of each other
grey is the colour that dominates

she’s the chief
someone my brain chooses to love and hate
someone my brain loses sanity over
surely me not to be blamed

i yearn for her
yet love to shun her
i’m attracted to her charm
yet puked at her looks

crossroads of nerves
bundles of verves

Published in: on Tuesday, April 24, 2007 at 9:51 am  Comments (3)  
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The Game Plan

Maintain the closure
On sullied garments.
Intersperse sweltering pick-me-up
Onto the foundation of the laundry silo
For it ameliorates absorb pong.

Sort the laundry
Before sluicing
Alleviates attire bear longer.
Secede the frail,
Towels and divan linen or denims
From customary freight.

Curtail attrition
On fashion
By cleansing
And desiccating them
Inside out.

Seal all zippers,
Buttons and bond cords
Prior to swabbing.
This curbs dresses
From receiving kinks in sync.

When rinsing
Dazzling-coloured costume
For the fundamental measure,
Shampoo in frosty tides
And affix half a goblet of salt
That facilitates
Establish the insignia
To the recurring cycle.

When drying,
Ensure pins and lines
Are virtuous
To avert infamy
On outfit.
Steep dowels
In sultry lathered fluid
To eradicate filth and muck.

Situate a diminutive dish
In laundry locale
To amass ancient history
From receptacles.

Published in: on Saturday, April 21, 2007 at 12:26 am  Comments (3)  
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The Paroxysm of Rage and Laughter

paroxysm.jpg
Troubles indeed
Self-control has lost its navigation
Sensibility has been thoroughly
Vanquished and undone
By a certain Mr Circumstances
Whose circumcision has rendered him
Resume the tyranny of time and space
Poor, poor old master
Resigning to have his fate
Condemned to eternity
Not knowing which outburst to abide by
Anger, amusement, fury, hilarity
Laughter, mirth, rage, wrath
If only mortal could innovate
If only divine could intervene
This paroxysm might just cease, perchance

Published in: on Sunday, April 1, 2007 at 11:59 pm  Comments (2)  
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till life do us part

your words convinced me
your love warmed me
your actions melted me
your sacrifices nailed me
you were meant for me
    so, it really puzzles me
    why you didn’t do it, for me
    why you didn’t put in effort, for me
    why you didn’t trust your faith, for me
    why you didn’t insist on showing the way, for me
well, i guess this is it
you have crossed the path
i’m left behind
you have reached the destiny
i’m stuck to doom
    pardon me for asking
    did we say, “till life do us part”?
Published in: on Saturday, March 31, 2007 at 11:57 pm  Comments (2)  
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Death……Life

Dewdrops of grief and glee
The path to Normandy
Sizzling ashes of glory

40 torrential days and nights
Hub of the soul that bites
Wishes deprived of rights

Dagger of slain Duncan
War cry, trumpets and siren
Rays of light that darken

Terminal point of more returns
Desperation crashes and burns
Probe to call nature’s turns

Weight perceived as dodo’s bill
Posts signed with comic chill
ABC of nought or nil

Fluid form of healing stone
Rests that tag and hone
Novocaine that huffs the tone

Sand that dunes the face
Tinted grey of cells that pace
Long lost gods of Hercules’ grace

Laps that round and bound
Tasks of hound and pound
Rats with sound of ground

The passion of criminal act
Certainties to a soulful pact
Upstarts that rise to fact

Kimberly’s vow to last the trip
Sir Paul sworn to bud the nip
Father of love could taste a sip

Youthful does that prance
Hot-blooded stamens that chance
Budding essence that looks askance

Innocence diminishing with time
World of wonders not all but a dime
Image of him who speaks in mime

Published in: on Tuesday, March 27, 2007 at 11:44 pm  Comments (4)  
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The Real Need

Perhaps
A wider mind
A greater capacity
A larger library
A bigger world
Will do the trick
For us to enjoy them
To the fullest
But I suspect
We need
A timeless life
To do the same trick
Perhaps

(inspired by Susan’s insatiable appetite)

Published in: on Saturday, March 24, 2007 at 1:11 am  Comments (11)  
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block blocked

the block
that blocks
the block’s attempt
to blog
must be blocked
or the block’s attempt
to blog
will be blocked
thus blocking
the block’s desire
to share
but the fact that
the block’s blog
now looks blocked
shows that the block
is suffering from a block
as the block has no answer
to the block

(utterly woeful, i know)

Published in: on Thursday, March 22, 2007 at 11:59 pm  Comments (4)  
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Self-Pity

Tonight
I had wished to cry myself to sleep

I felt wonderfully sad
So I thought why not tear my sleep

How brilliantly foolish I was
To think ’twas easy to shed tears before sleep

I had to toil languidly
Hoping to have my desire satisfied at sleep

But my successful failure
Questioned the degree of my woe prior to my sleep

Self-pity I’m not
Now I’ll be tragically delirious to get some sleep

Tonight
I had wished to cry myself to sleep

Published in: on Monday, March 19, 2007 at 11:59 pm  Leave a Comment  
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in me

there is a giant in me
bidding his time
to reveal all his prowess

there is a dwarf in me
fearing his time
to expose all his vulnerabilities

Published in: on Sunday, March 18, 2007 at 11:51 pm  Comments (3)  
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ditch it? no way!

I was rather surprised when I came across this article. I know that English Language has undergone changes in the modern world. But never in my right frame of mind would I discard or disregard the dictionary. To me, it has been my personal friend and teacher. Without it, I would never be the present me. It hones my language capabilities. It defines who I am.

Ditch the dictionary: British think-tank
LONDON: The Oxford English Dictionary (OED) should no longer be the main authority on the English language because it does not keep pace with today's rapid linguistic changes, a report said on Thursday.

Left-wing think-tank Demos said the OED should be replaced by a website --democtionary.org -- that would allow English-speaking members of the public from Britain and abroad to contribute their own words and definitions.

The report's co-author, Sam Jones, said an online dictionary similar to the user-generated Internet encyclopaedia Wikipedia was needed to track the pace of language change and the influence of non-native speakers on it.

"English can no longer be seen as a single language, but more as a family of languages," he said. "Each of these reflects the different ways people experience the world.

"Such variation is now as much part of the English language as is grammar and word order. The problem is that it is rarely seen as such.

"As the world becomes more and more connected, accommodating different forms of English will be crucial to building the cultural literacy we need."

He added: "(The website) would be a more valid reflection of the English language than that of the Oxford English Dictionary."

The OED, which is compiled by a team of lexicographers with contributions from "readers" around the world, has been "the last word on words" for more than a century and is one of the greatest works of scholarship.

The latest print version covers 20 volumes, has 21,730 pages and 291,500 entries from across the English-speaking world, plus etymologies, pronunciations and spelling variations.

Chief editor John Simpson welcomed Demos's contribution, but denied the OED was a prescriptive rather than a descriptive reference work.

"Demos are trading on a rather outdated caricature of the Oxford English Dictionary. We don't regulate English -- we describe it," he said.

"Nowadays the OED is online, accessed regularly all over the world, and its entries trace many varieties of English that now form the language.

"As it happens, our latest update today includes our entry for wiki, but for 150 years the OED has been based on a collaborative model of gathering information from readers everywhere.

"In addition, we search huge databanks recording a cross-section of the many forms of English used today." - AFP/ir

source: http://www.channelnewsasia.com/stories/afp_world/view/264195/1/.html

In lending my undying support, I’ve written a little something dedicated to the dear Mr Dictionary:

A Tribute to the Lexicon

Oh how I yowl for
The entity that has
Millions of souls bow
In meekness
And in awe
Of its opulence
That speaks more hushed
Than a mute

He doesn’t warrant
The call to dig the grave
For his demise
Considering the exceptional work
He has accomplished
Since the days of the soothsayers
Who wouldn’t even dare
Casting his death in stone back then

Lexis foul or fair
He educates
Edifies
And offers raison d’être
Living lives meaningfully
Which makes lexicography
An extremely worthwhile basis
Of the glorious pursuit

Woe to those whose shallow minds
Are only deep enough
To stir up unrest
Amongst the imps of Formicidae
Woe to those whose blunt tongues
Are only sharp enough
To pierce through
The hearts of the Emblems and Purebloods

Oh how I moan for His Majesty

Published in: on Thursday, March 15, 2007 at 11:59 pm  Comments (4)  
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Helena’s Note

I was naïve
To think that I’d be cherished
I was foolish
To believe that I was the special one
I thought
I was brought into this world
As a result of a conscientious effort of love
I’d never imagine
That I was a reluctant and unexpected mistake
I could never tell
That grudges and resentment and worse would follow
That my name was conveniently given
Because the spot where you and you whored
Was under the neon sign ‘Helena’s Bar’

Of course I was too infantile to comprehend
The stress, the mental abuse and the physical torture
You and you contributed
All I could do was cry instinctively after every hurt
But when I began to make sense of this world
You and you added on to my already battered soul and bruised body
You labelled me the seed of the bastard
You called me the wasted product of the slut
You and you took turns to inflict psychological and corporeal wounds
And the only thing I could do each time was to weep
Was I capable of other things?

I honestly attempted seeing the positives of life
I genuinely trusted the friendly souls in my circle
(Of which you and you were never in)
I quietly admired the relationships fostered
I rather bitterly envied the beautiful experiences witnessed
I was beginning to realise
That the world out there is worth waiting for
That the people out there are worth living for
That perhaps I could count on the person God
That painstakingly I must grow up

However
You and you intervened again
Except that this time
You and you went beyond all that you had done
You and you decided on my destiny
I guess I’d owed both of you too much
To delay my payment

Now
I’ve paid the price
Not my choice
But your choice
And your choice
Which leaves me with only one question

You
The bastard whose desire couldn’t be contained
All you needed was a shot to impress
But it turned out to be a shot that killed yourself
I became your thorn in the throat constantly
Your target of explicit langauge
And your object of itch
Have you ever loved me?

You
The slut whose invitation to all couldn’t be resisted
All you wanted was attention and love
But what you got was attention and lust
I became your pain in the ass continuously
Your punchbag of fury and frustration
And your article of shame
Have you ever loved me?

I was commanded to honour you and you
Honour you and you I shall
But I always wanted to know
Have you ever loved me?
It is just a simple question
I guess I won’t know the answer, will I?

Published in: on Wednesday, March 14, 2007 at 12:59 am  Comments (3)  
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above

    above it all
    asian allure
    modern lines
    classic curves
    infinite possibilities
    eclectic reinvention
    sophiscated sensuality
    extravagance and performance
    cook up an italian dream
    dance with imagination
    make the difference
    live with passion
    find sanctuary
    look east
    cut above the rest
Published in: on Monday, March 12, 2007 at 11:53 pm  Comments (2)  
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The Hill Song

Downhill
Had none to build
None liked to blend
Really ugly?
Pecked at will
Chortled at bill
So forlorn, so despondent
Done wrong?
Cold treatment’s mere understatement
What’s vertical, what’s horizontal?
What ought to be altered?
    Uphill
    Dry spell passes without fanfare
    Grasping in next to no time
    Dawdling transformation but surely
    That magical moment
    Soaring loftily
    Physical repugnance no more!
    Being beautiful being
    Cloud nine colonisation
    Revolutionised life!
    At long last!
Published in: on Monday, March 12, 2007 at 12:57 am  Comments (2)  
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Ironies

If we can run away from the truth,
We can’t be too far from the lie.
If we can be right choosing right from wrong,
We can’t be wrong choosing wrong from right.
If we can say love makes the world,
We can also say love breaks the world.
If we can be rich poor souls,
We can also be poor rich souls.
If we can be strong enough to accept the ironies of life,
We can be weak enough to ignore the ironies of life.

Published in: on Friday, March 9, 2007 at 1:18 am  Comments (4)  
Tags:

work, sanity

work makes sanity
work breaks sanity

sanity makes work
sanity breaks work

work is sanity

sanity isn’t work

work?

sanity?

embrace both?
or cast one aside?

Published in: on Wednesday, March 7, 2007 at 7:54 am  Leave a Comment  
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Heaven

Heavens, haloes, harps
Angels with wings in white robes
If this is what I get eternally
I’ll call for a revolution
When I get there

Cash, cars, condominiums
Chicks with boots in 3-piece suits
If this is what I get eternally
I’ll ram my automobile into all rogues and jerks
Just to get there

Fury, flaming furnace
Demons with pitchforks in charred skins
If this is what I get eternally
I’ll look up to Him, read His word, utter prayers
’Cos I don’t wanna get there

Crowns, crowns, crowns
Selfless souls with agape love in His image
If this is what I get eternally
I’ll have faith in Him and live His purpose
Knowing I’ll get there

Talk is cheap
Deed is deep
My choice?

Published in: on Sunday, March 4, 2007 at 11:38 am  Comments (3)  
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To Hell And Back

Watch the old cock pecking the motherly fowl
Live in trepidation of the shadows that loom
Stomach the agony of the nakedness’ prowl
Blight at vicars who offspring in the room

Devastating corollary of the peril taken too far
Heartbreaking moments on the day the lovebirds sing
Mesmerizing close shave with angels of the tsar
Exasperating fruits of labour that are not but a fling

Drill through the brute vigor of the regiment
Healing wounds fixed with an exorbitant popsicle
Take umbrage at the swing of glee and resentment
Finalising episodes of yet another hellish chronicle

Now is the time of respite and tranquillity
But the promise of tribulation sets the path of greater hostility

Published in: on Tuesday, February 27, 2007 at 10:28 am  Comments (3)  
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The Greatest Bliss

It’s cooler than Coke
It’s warmer than Love
It’s more pleasing than Sex
It’s more soothing than Music
It’s tastier than Tiramisu
It’s pricier than Lamborghini
It’s more desirable than Diamonds
It’s more vital than Religions and Politics
It’s not Fame
It’s not Power
It’s what Money can’t buy
It’s what Man can’t live without

It’s the Greatest Bliss cherished, treasured, relished by the privileged few
It’s Sleep…

Published in: on Monday, February 26, 2007 at 10:26 pm  Comments (3)  
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Nought

I lost my barren soul
Owing to the fact that
My immaculate mind was empty
As a result of
Soporific lessons of life
Which promised much
But delivered none.
Gutted.

Published in: on Friday, February 23, 2007 at 1:58 pm  Comments (3)  
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Dying Again

Feline grace undeserved
Almost a definite doubt
Physical passing on only but once
Yet manna comes in the other realm
Opportunities to die living or live dying again and again……
In hope that self-reacontrolisation will surface
Leading to a kicking glorious destiny
Wretchedly the feeble mind falls short incessantly
Losing grasp of the wilful flesoulh
Merrily singing the poignant tune of the robins
Whilst aching through the benign vicious cycles
The ladder up the Tower of Babel
Might justify the conundrum of living happily
Falling down the bottomless pit
No longer an idiosyncrasy
What’s there to live
When dying again bounces to rise?
Call it a day and lie still
Before the false pretence cuts deeper

(pardon the fresh p*ss*m*sm)

Published in: on Monday, February 19, 2007 at 2:40 pm  Comments (5)  

do i

do
I
really
know
who
I
am
do
I
know
who
I
really
am
do
I
know
who
I
am
really

seriously these words haunt me at different points of my life and they just did it again seriously

Published in: on Thursday, February 15, 2007 at 11:23 pm  Comments (6)  
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making sense

skimming ulysses
plagiarising shakespeare
weeping through clockwork orange
governing edgarallanpoe’s temper
falling for big brother in 1984
guffawing with emily dickinson
celebrating valentine’s day
    they all don’t make sense
      (newly written for v-day protest initiated by minx)
Published in: on Wednesday, February 14, 2007 at 12:00 am  Comments (8)  
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who are we?

holy innocents
cocooned in angelic skins
innocuous

screwtape’s charges
peeling in layers
damnable

hideous ageds
melted to core
wasted

soul
beautiful

(inspired by Skint)

Published in: on Saturday, February 10, 2007 at 12:36 am  Comments (4)  
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Woman

I am Woman
I’m no good, that’s what I’ve been told
Darkness falls upon the land
Stirs darkly the day of owls

My child arrived just the other day
Between the deep blue sea and the coastal cove
The sun peeking out from amongst the fluffy clouds

The past and the future are the jaws of a steel vice

(during sniknej lesson)

Published in: on Friday, February 2, 2007 at 8:00 am  Comments (1)  
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I should like to

I should like to……

play down the left flank of the star-studded Liverpool team
mesmerize defenders with my pace and skills.

stand on stage with my guitar and voice
lift the hearts out of the screaming girls.

extend my outstretched arms
and feed the millions in poverty.

fly across planet Earth
and see the world I long to see.

change the hearts of people
and get rid of selfishness totally.

(done at sulpamard)

Published in: on Friday, February 2, 2007 at 7:52 am  Leave a Comment  
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a senseless poem

wonderful sheep quickly runs beautiful moments
blue princess silently skips ugly love
spiky principal comfortably sings strange sweetness
long peacock rudely talks enormous understanding
wavy screw sweetly lectures clever confidence
short catapult cunningly jumps mean salary

(generated by a team years back)

Published in: on Thursday, February 1, 2007 at 12:13 am  Comments (1)  
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it’s all in the mind

It’s all in the mind.

You are sinking in the sea. Waves after waves come crashing onto you. The remnants of the plane floating around keep pushing you towards the fire. The sub-zero temperature of the water threatens to kill you. The open wounds on your body inflict further pain through your mind. The dead bodies discourage and demoralise you. The raging storm pours menacingly from the heavens. Your body and strength are on the verge of total collapse.

What do you do?
Give up?
Struggle to stay afloat?
Stay calm, summon your will and look for an opening to survival?

The flesh may be weak.
But it has to do the willing spirit’s bidding.
And the willing spirit gains strength from the mind.

It’s all in the mind.

Published in: on Friday, January 26, 2007 at 8:20 am  Leave a Comment  
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Ordinary

People said that Christmas’ just a season of
Greeting cards, turkey dishes, well wishes
But I didn’t think that was just about it
Always felt this peace, this joy move within my heart
Such a lovely Christmas!
Or is this just an ordinary Christmas?

Then I saw the story of this young child
They called Prince of Peace, Counsellor, Emmanuel
And I knew this child wasn’t just one little life
He was much more than what I could see in his eyes
Such a lovely child!
He’s not just an ordinary child!

And I found this everlasting friendship
When the little child grew and walked into my life
He gives me peace, joy, hope and love
That mean so much more I can ever have from a friend
Such a lovely friend!
He’s not just an ordinary friend!

I’ve found the reason for Christmas
He came to live and die for me
Out of love, out of love
Out of love, out of love

Christmas isn’t just a simple story
With Santa Claus, jingle bells, “Merry Christmas!”
It’s ’bout having this great gift from above
Priceless, worthy, made ready for you
Such a lovely gift!
It’s not just an ordinary gift!

Christmas is one true Friend!
One true Friend is one best gift!

(23.12.1998)

Published in: on Monday, December 25, 2006 at 11:24 pm  Leave a Comment  
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one-after-another

one-after-another
one-after-another
how many one-after-anothers do I have to experience?
can I be strong?
will I be vigilant?
am I the problem?
or are they tests of my faithfulness?
if indeed they are, I might have failed.
or have I?

experience and maturity, you would expect,
should have seen me through this
quite laughably I found myself stagnant
I’m just a toddler, perhaps
I’m still developing, I suppose
I’m ever learning, for Pete’s sake
everyone’s learning all the time

excuses, excuses, excuses
enough of such woeful reasons

time to acknowledge my root
to question my integrity
to check my so-called progress
to measure my superficial success
deep down below
yet obviously shallow
the solution is crystal clear
it’s my choice
turn my back against the guiding tower
pretending losing my windows
or walk the narrow path
where no one dares to trudge
turn the tide
or ride with it

the devil versus the angel
the eternal matchup
could well impact my destiny

salvation to be completed?
or yet another one-after-another?

(fresh)

Published in: on Thursday, December 21, 2006 at 12:50 am  Leave a Comment  
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See

Let not the beautiful flowers lead you into believing that the moon on the other side is rounder.
Stand tall and be aware that whatever is beneath your breath, you owe to Mother Nature (or perhaps The Creator).
Sitting back and remembering your roots do not quite complement each other.
For you have to put the right foot forward to appreciate all that you possess.
Let not the corner of your weak mind impede you from the ascension when you finally see the world from where you should have long time ago.

(signed on 4.12.2006)

Published in: on Tuesday, December 19, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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Could I

Climbing out
Head searching
Stumbling across
Limbs wrenching
Standing in bewilderment
Mind aching
Looking in awe
Heart spinning

Should I have hoped for more?
Would I have wished for more?
Could I have asked for more?

Labouring on
Eyes sniffing
Enduring pain
Nose straining
Talking through
Ears speaking
Believing what’s up
Mouth crying

Should I have hoped for more?
Would I have wished for more?
Could I have asked for more?

Stop and look
Seeing what I see?
Seeing what I want to see?
Is it reality?
Is it illusion?
Do I have it?
Am I imagining I have it?
Stop and look

Should I have done more?
Would I have done more?
Could I have done more?

Do I have the makings of a fool?
Am I just an ordinary folk?
Should I?
Would I?
Could I?

(on the anniversary 2006)

Published in: on Monday, December 18, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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Ode to the Folks Whose Departure is Imminent

It is never easy
making sense of this world,
taking the initial steps,
uttering gibberish,
trusting the anonymous souls,
calling out the first names,
moving on with ease,
recognizing the familiar faces,
socializing a good mix,
loving the blood relations in return,
learning the alphabets,
acquiring different new skills,
manipulating numbers and dollars and sense,
building relationships,
climbing the academy charts,
maintaining bonding and ties,
surviving the rat race within the system,
managing emotions and feelings,
winning against all odds,
facing an early closure to part 1 of the life,
pouring the hearts out to the dearest,
clinging on to what’s left behind,
bidding farewell,
marching onto the next phase.
Never easy.

(noted on 18.11.2006)

Published in: on Sunday, December 17, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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Changed

You came
almost pure
almost innocent
almost without blemish
There you stood
looking naïve
looking young
looking adorable
You learned
always earnest
always teachable
always hungry for more
No one
could halt your steps
could quell your desire
could dampen your spirits

You grew
ever changing
ever distracted
ever influenced
The passion
gradually replaced
gradually sacrificed
gradually dissipated
There you looked
subtly distanced
subtly rebellious
subtly crying out loud
To you, no one
will ever believe in you
will ever appreciate you
will ever understand you

You left
very much broken
very much broken
very much broken

(baked in 18.11.2006)

Published in: on Saturday, December 16, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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Innocence

Innocence is some God-given gift that can only be enjoyed when you have absolutely no idea what the world is all about.
Innocence can also be a state of mind that leads you to thinking that every thing in this world is all but straight as you see.
Innocence might be defined as a one-time experience whereby you are free of worries and deep thoughts.
Innocence is definitely something that you will never ever possess again once you reach a certain level of maturity.
Innocence comes at birth but it’s there for everyone to lose without much effort.
Innocence. Cherish it before the break of dawn.

(rubbished out on 15.11.2006)

Published in: on Friday, December 15, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday!
Seventeen years away from this day
You were born again
Ignorant of loss or gain
Lost your way in the labyrinth of ups and downs
Thought you’d live your life with shrugs and frowns

On with the next wave of life
You found the most precious lessons in life
Grew from strength to strength
Confidence and hope abound in great length
Then came the time of trials that tested
Which you passed well and rested

Secular emotions seeped through invitingly
And you believed life would develop excitingly
Like a huge hammer that crushes your bones
Those who loved had fallen like hailstones
Deep, deep wounds that failed to recover
Had left a trail the fiend couldn’t wait to discover

Time had slowly healed the ache
With yet another worldly break
Off you went to start anew
Knowing well that chances could be few
Though the bed seems so full of roses
You can’t help but feel you need his doses

Owing to your progeny’s need
An opportunity arises so timely indeed
Now it’s time for some mind precision
There’s certainly no room for indecision
Rejoice; remember; reflect through the day
Happy Birthday!

(penned 2.11.2006)

Published in: on Thursday, December 14, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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Pride/Arrogance

I’ve got everything they don’t have.
God favours me, so I…
Have extra fats, extra oil,
Extra skin, extra flesh.
All contributing to extra pounds.
Look at my magnificent physique.
My sheer size casts fear amongst all of them.
Look at my eyes – sleek and cunning
Look at my nose – well-endowed and keen
Look at my cheeks – riding high with pride
Look at my chins – double glory, double arrogance
My thick limbs way surpass any other forms of human
My perfect bottoms summon advantages wherever I reside.
And the rest is plain history – my clothes, my shoes, my kingsized bed, etc.,etc,.etc.
I am more than a complete all-rounder
I am an icon for human beauty.

(2003 again)

Published in: on Wednesday, December 13, 2006 at 12:00 am  Leave a Comment  
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12 Years of Christmas

1st birthday, I wish I could have more movement, more milk & more motherly love.
2nd birthday, I wish I could have toys that challenge my limbs, esp the hands.
3rd birthday, I wish they would stop making me learn alphabets & give me time to watch TV.
4th birthday, I wish they would not make me learn piano & attend Maths lesson.
5th birthday, I wish I would not cry when I am in school.
6th birthday, I wish I would have courage & independence in school.
7th birthday, I wish Tom could be my best friend forever.
8th birthday, I wish Mrs Goh would come to past by tripping over a rock.
9th birthday, I wish Science never exist.
10th birthday, I wish Science & Maths never exist.
11th birthday, I wish to find my myself in EM2, at least.
12th birthday, I wish my parents stop placing high expectations on me.
I wish……I never jump…………

(from 2003)

Published in: on Tuesday, December 12, 2006 at 12:00 am  Comments (1)  
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back in 2003…

The ingenuity of the human heart has been betrayed by the genuity of the human actions time and time again.

Never mind the errors
that make themselves
a nuisance to those
around daily, persistently
and obstinately.
If you say ignorance is bliss,
I’d say forgiveness is blessed.

Lethargic
My body & my soul
Yearn for something more
Refreshed, renewed
Aptly put it.
28 days later
Energetic
My body & my soul
Empowered, inspired
Aptly put it.

Cast your shadow
over the hapless lizard
and cause fear in it.
Cast your shadow
over the studious girl
and cause anger in her.
Cast your shadow
over your beloved’s tombstone
and cause sorrow in you.
Cast your shadow
over the ragged thug
and cause joy in him.

The word ‘trash’ is
often, unfortunately, silently
succumbed to subjectivity.
The vast majority perceives
‘trash’ as things that are
rubbish, useless, nonsense,
utterly woeful, completely junkie.
But it would be wrong to reject
any claim that ‘trash’ can lead to
usefulness, salvation, aid, advantage, benefit.
There’s no absolute truth in
semantics and linguistics.
Both are results of a human brain
that errs too much to be called
full-proof and reliable.
To you, I might be writing ‘trash’,
first definition.
To me, I am writing ‘trash’,
second definition.

Published in: on Sunday, December 10, 2006 at 12:00 am  Comments (2)  
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