Lulled into heartbeats
Of train track melodies,
The sweetness of your breath;
A haven from the soured breeze, and
Floating tastes of greasy takeaway
Contained in silver cans of grey.
You rushed away;
The hollow air,
As the stenches rush in to take your place.
Stilled, I watched revolving heels
From half buried basement grills
Up!
Across...
Down the stairs
And when you look back
I would've clattered on, gone
And a Little gentleness
That lies deep within your breast,
Will let out a strangled, shuddering cry.
Let Imagination Possess A Pen, And What Results Will Be Beautiful
Friday, November 5, 2010
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Parting
I see moving pictures in a 5 by 5 screen
I hear the sounds emitted in sync with the scenes
I reach out my hand to touch what I see
And I grasp that I'm only really with me.
The silver framed photograhs hanging off the walls
The aeroplane that flew you off to foreign shores
Your pictures spread around me on the bedroom floor
Looking at your silhouette framing the door.
Sleeping by the phone incase it would ring
Walk humming to the tune you used to sing
Reading letters and postcards in fading ink
I smoothed the little seashells you left by the sink
I wave you goodbye in the big white hall,
Your hands wave back; a big smile sprawled,
Over the face I know I'll miss,
Goodbye my darling just one more kiss.
You cupped the time that turned stones into sand
Should you wish them to trickle slowly through your hands,
And those grains to what ends may meet
Time, Love, matters of importance I cannot understand.
I hear the sounds emitted in sync with the scenes
I reach out my hand to touch what I see
And I grasp that I'm only really with me.
The silver framed photograhs hanging off the walls
The aeroplane that flew you off to foreign shores
Your pictures spread around me on the bedroom floor
Looking at your silhouette framing the door.
Sleeping by the phone incase it would ring
Walk humming to the tune you used to sing
Reading letters and postcards in fading ink
I smoothed the little seashells you left by the sink
I wave you goodbye in the big white hall,
Your hands wave back; a big smile sprawled,
Over the face I know I'll miss,
Goodbye my darling just one more kiss.
You cupped the time that turned stones into sand
Should you wish them to trickle slowly through your hands,
And those grains to what ends may meet
Time, Love, matters of importance I cannot understand.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Rainy Night
Imagine the hedge lined, wooded paths
And the tap of rain, a song,
Pass the dew on bristled branches
Trade them for crystal gowns.
Willows soft and willows mellow,
Lost me in their silvery strands
Perhaps the splash of unmannered cars
A rustle where oaks would stand
Back towards your blazing eyes
Dispersing fairy's jewels
Be it love the one I despised
Here I harvest for you
It's cruel to linger where traffic slows
Where each whisper skips a beat
And I am left in the rain to wonder
If the slowness if for me.
But ponder each drop; hanging
Precariously from shadowed leaves,
Then I gues you would understand
Why these games, I would keep
Nonetheless, indigo skies retired
Back into their downy beds
The coldness of new tears
Washes me from my rest
The rattle of rain on pavement,
I later reflected, was kind
They drove all musty, settled thoughts
Far from my mind.
And the tap of rain, a song,
Pass the dew on bristled branches
Trade them for crystal gowns.
Willows soft and willows mellow,
Lost me in their silvery strands
Perhaps the splash of unmannered cars
A rustle where oaks would stand
Back towards your blazing eyes
Dispersing fairy's jewels
Be it love the one I despised
Here I harvest for you
It's cruel to linger where traffic slows
Where each whisper skips a beat
And I am left in the rain to wonder
If the slowness if for me.
But ponder each drop; hanging
Precariously from shadowed leaves,
Then I gues you would understand
Why these games, I would keep
Nonetheless, indigo skies retired
Back into their downy beds
The coldness of new tears
Washes me from my rest
The rattle of rain on pavement,
I later reflected, was kind
They drove all musty, settled thoughts
Far from my mind.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Night
It awakens as the sun dips down, the lull
Of crickets hidden in grassy groves,
And the silent whispers of fluttering leaves,
In the rapsy beats of tattered wings.
As airy spirits glided by
And landed softly on my shoulders,
Beside my ear, they sat.
Directing my feet towards lighted darkness,
Tugging my heart towards welcoming shadows.
I fell for the enchantments of lady night.
Of crickets hidden in grassy groves,
And the silent whispers of fluttering leaves,
In the rapsy beats of tattered wings.
As airy spirits glided by
And landed softly on my shoulders,
Beside my ear, they sat.
Directing my feet towards lighted darkness,
Tugging my heart towards welcoming shadows.
I fell for the enchantments of lady night.
Moon in Fours
Wolf
I sat, pinned
Admiring your light,
As you pierced me,
With slitted eyes.
-------------------
Photograph
Your light,
In sepia white
Etches tonight
Into my mind.
-------------------
Harvest Moon
Smile upon the golden wheat,
Cast your marble spells,
Watching as the colors seep
Into your cloudy wells.
--------------------
Witness
You cast upon us
The softest spotlight,
That faithfully lit us
As we danced in the night.
I sat, pinned
Admiring your light,
As you pierced me,
With slitted eyes.
-------------------
Photograph
Your light,
In sepia white
Etches tonight
Into my mind.
-------------------
Harvest Moon
Smile upon the golden wheat,
Cast your marble spells,
Watching as the colors seep
Into your cloudy wells.
--------------------
Witness
You cast upon us
The softest spotlight,
That faithfully lit us
As we danced in the night.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Within
Within each of us there is an ink pot
A blackness just waiting to consume the light
And if, accidently, we should spill it
The stain would color us deeper than night.
Your tear soaked soul spreads the stain
As it leeches all that is white
Probing fingers grasping onto everything in it's sight.
A blackness just waiting to consume the light
And if, accidently, we should spill it
The stain would color us deeper than night.
Your tear soaked soul spreads the stain
As it leeches all that is white
Probing fingers grasping onto everything in it's sight.
Please.
You got wires going in
You got wires coming out of your skin
You got tears making tracks
I got tears that are scared of the facts
Running down corridors through automatic doors
I've got to get to you, got to see this through
I see hope is here in a plastic box
I've seen christmas lights reflect in your eyes
There's dry blood on your wrist
Your dried blood, on my fingertips
First night of your life curled up on your own
Looking at you now, you will never know.
Don't leave me behind say that you'll be alright
I reach for your hands and I see it in your eyes
Please be alright.
You got wires coming out of your skin
You got tears making tracks
I got tears that are scared of the facts
Running down corridors through automatic doors
I've got to get to you, got to see this through
I see hope is here in a plastic box
I've seen christmas lights reflect in your eyes
There's dry blood on your wrist
Your dried blood, on my fingertips
First night of your life curled up on your own
Looking at you now, you will never know.
Don't leave me behind say that you'll be alright
I reach for your hands and I see it in your eyes
Please be alright.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Island
When I woke the suitcases had already been packed,
Some what hurridly piled into the door frame
And beyond, the unusual silence
Usually banished by breakfast plates.
When I padded outside she had been standing there,
Morning dew already soaking her shoulders
And with that well known glaze
Eyed the shoreline behind grey boulders.
"I'm going, for good", that well worn line repeated
Disturbed me little, I let it go and nodded
To start the fire and lighten
The doorway darkened by her shadow
"It's exciting, you know, that far away place"
She talks of a place where fires burn
Across sparse plains,
Her eyes dim with shining tears.
" You wouldn't understand" she'd sniff in contempt
When I'd load the air with unvoiced questions
Wonder off as she does now
To the land beyond this sheltered coast.
I packed a peach in her bag to take with her
A pink, furry reminder of home and I
No doubt she'll need it,
There were no signs of rain in the sky.
We walked on to the beach hand in hand once more
She squeezed more tightly than last time
Not as tight as the first
And muttered Adrien under her breath.
Briefly I wondered why she left me alone everytime
In this little house by the beach I kept
A warm bed, food and fire
Watching over her while she slept.
But as quickly as the thought was banished to my pocket
She withdrew a folded paper boat from her own
Masted it with words
Speedily unfurled, and set it afloat
Clambering in was well practiced, as were the goodbyes
A careful kiss on the cheek and a prolonged hug,
Before she gave me a look
That bespoke a determination she didn't possess.
I stayed until the last speck of white dissipated into the waves
When even the wind could not billow her words to me
Then the familar pang echoed
In a strangely hollow part of my chest.
Then I turned and walked away from the little bay
Back through the boulders at which lapped
The naviety she sails back across
When she returns upon evening, to her bed.
Some what hurridly piled into the door frame
And beyond, the unusual silence
Usually banished by breakfast plates.
When I padded outside she had been standing there,
Morning dew already soaking her shoulders
And with that well known glaze
Eyed the shoreline behind grey boulders.
"I'm going, for good", that well worn line repeated
Disturbed me little, I let it go and nodded
To start the fire and lighten
The doorway darkened by her shadow
"It's exciting, you know, that far away place"
She talks of a place where fires burn
Across sparse plains,
Her eyes dim with shining tears.
" You wouldn't understand" she'd sniff in contempt
When I'd load the air with unvoiced questions
Wonder off as she does now
To the land beyond this sheltered coast.
I packed a peach in her bag to take with her
A pink, furry reminder of home and I
No doubt she'll need it,
There were no signs of rain in the sky.
We walked on to the beach hand in hand once more
She squeezed more tightly than last time
Not as tight as the first
And muttered Adrien under her breath.
Briefly I wondered why she left me alone everytime
In this little house by the beach I kept
A warm bed, food and fire
Watching over her while she slept.
But as quickly as the thought was banished to my pocket
She withdrew a folded paper boat from her own
Masted it with words
Speedily unfurled, and set it afloat
Clambering in was well practiced, as were the goodbyes
A careful kiss on the cheek and a prolonged hug,
Before she gave me a look
That bespoke a determination she didn't possess.
I stayed until the last speck of white dissipated into the waves
When even the wind could not billow her words to me
Then the familar pang echoed
In a strangely hollow part of my chest.
Then I turned and walked away from the little bay
Back through the boulders at which lapped
The naviety she sails back across
When she returns upon evening, to her bed.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
White
Wake up to a city of white.
Carrying the dark shadow looming over,
Swallowing the greying sky,
Dragging feet and clinging
On to each shoulder.
I caught a furtive glance
By it's wriggling tail.
But it bit me and slithered
Off to befriend the shadow
Behind me.
There was laughter as brittle
As ice, clanging like chimes,
In the brittle wind.
Blanket clouds smothered
Darkness in its soft,
Chilling embrace,
Pouring its frigid breath
Into my hair.
Freezing tears
Before they could trail,
Glistening tracks.
---------------------------------------
Running.
Wires coming out of your skin.
Your dried blood, on my fingertip.
Carrying the dark shadow looming over,
Swallowing the greying sky,
Dragging feet and clinging
On to each shoulder.
I caught a furtive glance
By it's wriggling tail.
But it bit me and slithered
Off to befriend the shadow
Behind me.
There was laughter as brittle
As ice, clanging like chimes,
In the brittle wind.
Blanket clouds smothered
Darkness in its soft,
Chilling embrace,
Pouring its frigid breath
Into my hair.
Freezing tears
Before they could trail,
Glistening tracks.
---------------------------------------
Running.
Wires coming out of your skin.
Your dried blood, on my fingertip.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Before
Real Life Fairytale
'Life was hard," my father used to say
And we'd settle in our chairs
To repeat word for word
That same tale
His brows would furrow
His arms, hanging in mid air
Waiting for his words to weave
That well worn spell
We'd nod sympathetically
And gasp in all the right places
As that familiar scene played
Of an age long gone
When children waded creeks
In tattered shoes
When mothers clambered over
Week old news
Penned by their absent lovers
On precious papers
'It was a lean year', we'd nod
They were lean years
‘At times, we were so tired
So wearied’
His voice would fade accordingly
And within his eyes
We'd see the end of the story
As a glimmer of fire
Embers, chokes and dies
His arms now resting
Placated on his seat
While the ashes of his world melt away
We watched has he shrugged his years back on
As though time himself had wearied and slowed
Too wizened to attempt following
What had been new a minute ago
We'd sit for awhile more
Perfectly still,
Lest we speed the dissipating film
Grasping vainly for tendrils of smoke
That rose from ourselves
As they curled up to the ceiling and faded
In perfect cue my mother would shout
The time, followed by a jolt
That catapulted us off to bed
Where we would dream of snowy fields
Golden wheat and winter chills
Grass eating stoves on old stone mills
Our wispy sighs hidden behind wistful smiles
'Life was hard," my father used to say
And we'd settle in our chairs
To repeat word for word
That same tale
His brows would furrow
His arms, hanging in mid air
Waiting for his words to weave
That well worn spell
We'd nod sympathetically
And gasp in all the right places
As that familiar scene played
Of an age long gone
When children waded creeks
In tattered shoes
When mothers clambered over
Week old news
Penned by their absent lovers
On precious papers
'It was a lean year', we'd nod
They were lean years
‘At times, we were so tired
So wearied’
His voice would fade accordingly
And within his eyes
We'd see the end of the story
As a glimmer of fire
Embers, chokes and dies
His arms now resting
Placated on his seat
While the ashes of his world melt away
We watched has he shrugged his years back on
As though time himself had wearied and slowed
Too wizened to attempt following
What had been new a minute ago
We'd sit for awhile more
Perfectly still,
Lest we speed the dissipating film
Grasping vainly for tendrils of smoke
That rose from ourselves
As they curled up to the ceiling and faded
In perfect cue my mother would shout
The time, followed by a jolt
That catapulted us off to bed
Where we would dream of snowy fields
Golden wheat and winter chills
Grass eating stoves on old stone mills
Our wispy sighs hidden behind wistful smiles
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Story
Still we stand in breathing light
Framed as we in white
Cold smooth stone where warmth once seeped
Beneath this alabaster keep
Should one, once, ever seek
Solace from this place
Enshrouded in marble hallways
Silent and strong we lay
Eternal as long as rock will care to stand
Upon this barren land
Where we once, hand in hand
Explored every niche
But the cities were fated to fall
Broken glass and shattered walls
Could not keep time from this beloved place
Wearing down each youthful face
Once framed with ribbons of lace
To etched pale shadows
Someday we too will eventually fall
Our grand halls pass to lore
And the rivers will wash our ashes clean
The trees add an emerald sheen
Where once glory could be seen
To indicated our lives here
Framed as we in white
Cold smooth stone where warmth once seeped
Beneath this alabaster keep
Should one, once, ever seek
Solace from this place
Enshrouded in marble hallways
Silent and strong we lay
Eternal as long as rock will care to stand
Upon this barren land
Where we once, hand in hand
Explored every niche
But the cities were fated to fall
Broken glass and shattered walls
Could not keep time from this beloved place
Wearing down each youthful face
Once framed with ribbons of lace
To etched pale shadows
Someday we too will eventually fall
Our grand halls pass to lore
And the rivers will wash our ashes clean
The trees add an emerald sheen
Where once glory could be seen
To indicated our lives here
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
pick up and anti
One not so fine tuesday arvo, leo and i were on a pick up line generator parodying ... someone. and we ended up with this.
enjoy.
Leo says:
*If I ask you for sex, will you give me the same answer as the answer to this question?
Re Bel lion
says:
**minds scrambled*
*no
*no
Leo says:
*Hi. I'm an astronaut, and my next mission is to explore Uranus.
Re Bel lion
says:
*baby are you lost?
*well you're a long way from heaven my angel
*you must've fallen quite hard
Leo says:
*Excuse me.. Hi, i'm writing a term paper on the finer things in life, and i was wondering if i could interview you..
*I spent over a grand on Viagra today, only to come here and see you and find out that I don't need it after all.
Re Bel lion
says:
*please use it
*i'll even pay for it
*maybe then you'll last for more than 10 seconds
Leo says:
*Im not telling you this because I want to impress you.. but I am Batman.
Re Bel lion
says:
*oh who
*?
*i'm wonderowman
*nice to meet you
Leo says:
*I'm like a Rubik's cube; the more you play with me, the harder I get.
Re Bel lion
says:
*pity i can solve most rubix in a few minutes
*i guess you only last that long
Leo says:
*If i flip this coin, what are the chances of me getting head?
Re Bel lion
says:
*non, you're all tails
Leo says:
*You are so selfish! You're going to have that body the rest of your life and I just want it for one night.
Re Bel lion
says:
*sorry baby, you're gonna have to swap it for osmething better than that
Leo says:
*I have a 13 inch dick. Remember that, there will be an oral exam later.
Re Bel lion
says:
*sorry sir
*i quit your class last term
Leo says:
*Fuck me if I am wrong, but you want to screw me, don't you?
Re Bel lion
says:
*lol what if i dont answer
*okay
*says nothign about me losing
*xD
**walks away*
Leo says:
*If I told you that you had a great body, would you hold it against me?!
Re Bel lion
says:
*i would use it to pin you down to the ground. the police can hold you
Leo says:
*If I received a nickel for everytime I saw someone as beautiful as you, I'd have five cents.
Re Bel lion
says:
*i guess you've never heard of infaltion
Leo says:
*You're beautiful.
Re Bel lion
says:
*james blunt
Leo says:
*You're beautiful. BTW Jmes Blunt sucks.
Re Bel lion
says:
*you suck, and you're not beautiful
*this is so going on my blog
enjoy.
Leo says:
*If I ask you for sex, will you give me the same answer as the answer to this question?
Re Bel lion
says:
**minds scrambled*
*no
*no
Leo says:
*Hi. I'm an astronaut, and my next mission is to explore Uranus.
Re Bel lion
says:
*baby are you lost?
*well you're a long way from heaven my angel
*you must've fallen quite hard
Leo says:
*Excuse me.. Hi, i'm writing a term paper on the finer things in life, and i was wondering if i could interview you..
*I spent over a grand on Viagra today, only to come here and see you and find out that I don't need it after all.
Re Bel lion
says:
*please use it
*i'll even pay for it
*maybe then you'll last for more than 10 seconds
Leo says:
*Im not telling you this because I want to impress you.. but I am Batman.
Re Bel lion
says:
*oh who
*?
*i'm wonderowman
*nice to meet you
Leo says:
*I'm like a Rubik's cube; the more you play with me, the harder I get.
Re Bel lion
says:
*pity i can solve most rubix in a few minutes
*i guess you only last that long
Leo says:
*If i flip this coin, what are the chances of me getting head?
Re Bel lion
says:
*non, you're all tails
Leo says:
*You are so selfish! You're going to have that body the rest of your life and I just want it for one night.
Re Bel lion
says:
*sorry baby, you're gonna have to swap it for osmething better than that
Leo says:
*I have a 13 inch dick. Remember that, there will be an oral exam later.
Re Bel lion
says:
*sorry sir
*i quit your class last term
Leo says:
*Fuck me if I am wrong, but you want to screw me, don't you?
Re Bel lion
says:
*lol what if i dont answer
*okay
*says nothign about me losing
*xD
**walks away*
Leo says:
*If I told you that you had a great body, would you hold it against me?!
Re Bel lion
says:
*i would use it to pin you down to the ground. the police can hold you
Leo says:
*If I received a nickel for everytime I saw someone as beautiful as you, I'd have five cents.
Re Bel lion
says:
*i guess you've never heard of infaltion
Leo says:
*You're beautiful.
Re Bel lion
says:
*james blunt
Leo says:
*You're beautiful. BTW Jmes Blunt sucks.
Re Bel lion
says:
*you suck, and you're not beautiful
*this is so going on my blog
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Go
你说的话，多么好听
说的感动，说的甜蜜
你说的每一句我都想性
为了爱情，付出努力
听你的话，闭上眼睛
这个梦多美丽，让它继续
你说的话总那么好听
你爱不爱我不能确定
也许你只把爱当游戏
我却爱得太用力
我却没那么聪明
----------------------------------------
Around and round.
You swing me around
Twenty four times
Every sunset, sunrise.
----------------------------------------
Telle est la vie
-----------------------------------------
Except this time.
Ich gehe zuerst
I'll go first
我先走
-----------------------------------------
Find me
Run.
说的感动，说的甜蜜
你说的每一句我都想性
为了爱情，付出努力
听你的话，闭上眼睛
这个梦多美丽，让它继续
你说的话总那么好听
你爱不爱我不能确定
也许你只把爱当游戏
我却爱得太用力
我却没那么聪明
----------------------------------------
Around and round.
You swing me around
Twenty four times
Every sunset, sunrise.
----------------------------------------
Telle est la vie
-----------------------------------------
Except this time.
Ich gehe zuerst
I'll go first
我先走
-----------------------------------------
Find me
Run.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Rant
You can't see her beauty like I do
So stop trying.
And I've tried so hard to make you realise that she's worth more that you'll ever have.
Show you the way?
You dont, shouldn't, wouldn't let me open your eyes.
You say you can see perfectly by youself
Evidently not.
Really, the little things give you away
Like how she would've told you how she wanted a gentleman
We both know you can't even be polite to save your own life
Save it.
Should I stand in her shoes...
If only, if only...
But somehow, it is you who makes her laugh, makes her cry
Though she seems to be doing the latter more often than ever.
Get away, GTFO! I want to, and will say this
If only you knew how much I meant it
You're not meant to break her
Not meant to mend her
Not meant to warm her
Or comfort her
...
And at the end of the day
Know this
She'll come back to me in tears that you've caused her to shed
Know that for every tear, how I long to shred you apart.
You said you were better
No, no, no.
Only blinder.
So stop trying.
And I've tried so hard to make you realise that she's worth more that you'll ever have.
Show you the way?
You dont, shouldn't, wouldn't let me open your eyes.
You say you can see perfectly by youself
Evidently not.
Really, the little things give you away
Like how she would've told you how she wanted a gentleman
We both know you can't even be polite to save your own life
Save it.
Should I stand in her shoes...
If only, if only...
But somehow, it is you who makes her laugh, makes her cry
Though she seems to be doing the latter more often than ever.
Get away, GTFO! I want to, and will say this
If only you knew how much I meant it
You're not meant to break her
Not meant to mend her
Not meant to warm her
Or comfort her
...
And at the end of the day
Know this
She'll come back to me in tears that you've caused her to shed
Know that for every tear, how I long to shred you apart.
You said you were better
No, no, no.
Only blinder.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Break
I touch her and she feels just as smooth
Just as before because
The cracks that scar her being
Can't be felt from the skin.
Then, those cracks
How do we know it is there?
Be observant, they whisper
Still I see nothing.
I lean in and take in her scent
Lightly mingled with bleach
Too impersonal
Something was wrong.
Just as before because
The cracks that scar her being
Can't be felt from the skin.
Then, those cracks
How do we know it is there?
Be observant, they whisper
Still I see nothing.
I lean in and take in her scent
Lightly mingled with bleach
Too impersonal
Something was wrong.
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Dance
Step, step. Slide and stop.
Left, right, left.
If only our tomorrows
Followed a similar pattern.
Left, right, left.
If only our tomorrows
Followed a similar pattern.
World
It began in a single moment, at a single, certain point in time.
With it's birth, from whence or what I cannot say, it grew, feeding on the immeasurable spaces of imagination.
And with it's growth, soon, all space had been consumed, all restraints fled with the wind and all control splintered.
All the songs failed to reach my ears, all the words failed to touch tears to my cheeks, all the letters seemed no more than just oddly scribed angles on white parchment.
Silence, a silence so deep, so dark that even sound could not shatter the stillness installed permanently inside.
So I waited. Waited and wanted something more than darkness, more than empty, hollow space, more than unfeeling.
I waited, and waited and waited.
Replaying the moment where music, light and feeling had left this bubble of my world, reliving the previously uncounted moments of wondrous sensation that could not be lost forever...
Was this a time of innocence, of silences, of private confidences?
Long ago, for it must be long ago, it seemed so long ago when time was time, and loneliness was loneliness and love was love.
Everything in black and white, I could feel it throbbing in my veins, my blood now left thin and cold and lacking.
Cursing the days when I cursed what I lacked, this deep space consuming other spaces.
But just as ignorant, wandering with this vagabond in a world where there's nothing to steal, came with me a star.
You're just as bright, just as beautiful as any flame, winking in mischief and never still.
Suddenly I realised, that this is strange, you're shining in a world where there is no light, no sound, no sight, no smell.
I reach out to you, surprised when the tips of my fingertips brushed ice, for is this what stars are in here?
A light that travels where I goes, speaks, eats, loves, cries, feels for a being that cannot, then I ask, how is that you are able to do all that I cannot, and wish, to do?
Oh, beware my dear, for jealousy is a green eyed monster, its taint of green reaching even you in this monotonous world.
Let it not swirl within your crystalline depths, not touch your pure blue light.
But still, your light does not warm me, it does not light me, nor shed light on everything around us.
Can you blame me for missing your redder cousin?
Can you blame me for not wanting to touch you?
Can you blame for still wanting your company?
Can you blame me for abhoring everything you stand for...
Because I can.
With it's birth, from whence or what I cannot say, it grew, feeding on the immeasurable spaces of imagination.
And with it's growth, soon, all space had been consumed, all restraints fled with the wind and all control splintered.
All the songs failed to reach my ears, all the words failed to touch tears to my cheeks, all the letters seemed no more than just oddly scribed angles on white parchment.
Silence, a silence so deep, so dark that even sound could not shatter the stillness installed permanently inside.
So I waited. Waited and wanted something more than darkness, more than empty, hollow space, more than unfeeling.
I waited, and waited and waited.
Replaying the moment where music, light and feeling had left this bubble of my world, reliving the previously uncounted moments of wondrous sensation that could not be lost forever...
Was this a time of innocence, of silences, of private confidences?
Long ago, for it must be long ago, it seemed so long ago when time was time, and loneliness was loneliness and love was love.
Everything in black and white, I could feel it throbbing in my veins, my blood now left thin and cold and lacking.
Cursing the days when I cursed what I lacked, this deep space consuming other spaces.
But just as ignorant, wandering with this vagabond in a world where there's nothing to steal, came with me a star.
You're just as bright, just as beautiful as any flame, winking in mischief and never still.
Suddenly I realised, that this is strange, you're shining in a world where there is no light, no sound, no sight, no smell.
I reach out to you, surprised when the tips of my fingertips brushed ice, for is this what stars are in here?
A light that travels where I goes, speaks, eats, loves, cries, feels for a being that cannot, then I ask, how is that you are able to do all that I cannot, and wish, to do?
Oh, beware my dear, for jealousy is a green eyed monster, its taint of green reaching even you in this monotonous world.
Let it not swirl within your crystalline depths, not touch your pure blue light.
But still, your light does not warm me, it does not light me, nor shed light on everything around us.
Can you blame me for missing your redder cousin?
Can you blame me for not wanting to touch you?
Can you blame for still wanting your company?
Can you blame me for abhoring everything you stand for...
Because I can.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Repeat Repeat
He's constantly thinking about her.
I can see his mind spinning, a disco ball,
Mosaic of memories, pictures playing on repeat.
The only thing shining in the hidden spaces of his heart.
He's constantly talking about her.
The way he would walk with me, silent,
And suddenly perk up at a minuscule detail reminding him,
Something equally small about her.
Broken, the silence I thought was companionable
To voice those snapshots of the past.
All the while, I stand there
In bittersweet silence, smiling along
Unsure what else there was to do.
It was sweet, seeing that smile
And the way he would stare, unseeing
The wistful expression, the relaxed posture, warmth
Knowing he'd once, been happy.
It was bitter too, I wasn't blind.
There probably wasn't a trace of me,
Anywhere in the only memories that could warm him
Make him want the past to return.
Seeing his face light up with a reserved joy
I had felt like an intruder
Witnessing something private, too personal, too tender and sentimental
To share with just anyone.
Unintentionally, on his part,
He probably wasn't aware at all
That he was doing the same for me,
Like the past did for him.
Making eternally warm memories of better days.
_________________________________________
Revise. Recollect. Remember. Reform.
Repeat.
I can see his mind spinning, a disco ball,
Mosaic of memories, pictures playing on repeat.
The only thing shining in the hidden spaces of his heart.
He's constantly talking about her.
The way he would walk with me, silent,
And suddenly perk up at a minuscule detail reminding him,
Something equally small about her.
Broken, the silence I thought was companionable
To voice those snapshots of the past.
All the while, I stand there
In bittersweet silence, smiling along
Unsure what else there was to do.
It was sweet, seeing that smile
And the way he would stare, unseeing
The wistful expression, the relaxed posture, warmth
Knowing he'd once, been happy.
It was bitter too, I wasn't blind.
There probably wasn't a trace of me,
Anywhere in the only memories that could warm him
Make him want the past to return.
Seeing his face light up with a reserved joy
I had felt like an intruder
Witnessing something private, too personal, too tender and sentimental
To share with just anyone.
Unintentionally, on his part,
He probably wasn't aware at all
That he was doing the same for me,
Like the past did for him.
Making eternally warm memories of better days.
_________________________________________
Revise. Recollect. Remember. Reform.
Repeat.
Contradiction
Believe me when I say I dream and I too hope it'd be real...Who doesn't wish for a happy ending? But how many before had fallen... Just as this dream will eventually.
Don't be angry when your clouds crumble to dust... When there's no silver lining. Some things are just meant to be the way they are... You can't change everything.
Believe me that I don't want to apologize... but still, I must say I'm sorry. Every time all I could see is her face... Obscuring everything you've stood for.
And just as this association will no doubt harm you... There's no way I can shed so many years of history. Just as this dissociation harms her... no doubt you'd know better than I.
When all is said, there are still two sides to the coin
One that attracts, one that repulses
Two poles attached to one entity
Of which I cannot but be attracted to
And at the same time, pushes me back
When all that I stand for and against
Are contained in one body.
How can this contradiction be so natural?
Don't be angry when your clouds crumble to dust... When there's no silver lining. Some things are just meant to be the way they are... You can't change everything.
Believe me that I don't want to apologize... but still, I must say I'm sorry. Every time all I could see is her face... Obscuring everything you've stood for.
And just as this association will no doubt harm you... There's no way I can shed so many years of history. Just as this dissociation harms her... no doubt you'd know better than I.
When all is said, there are still two sides to the coin
One that attracts, one that repulses
Two poles attached to one entity
Of which I cannot but be attracted to
And at the same time, pushes me back
When all that I stand for and against
Are contained in one body.
How can this contradiction be so natural?
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Festival
Silken shadows gather against the lighted square,
Our revels are yet to begin
A blurry sun too slow to fall has finally made its bed
And is presently replaced with rainbow flames
Some hidden shyly behind folded crepe,
Others tempted from their paper domes
By delicious smells wafting through the air
Weaving and ducking through sweet smokes,
Rising lazily from their sizzling beds
Footsteps hurry hither and thither always
Against the tide drifting neither here nor there,
Ruffle against boot, sleeve against collar
They compact in good nature
The one time no one seems to care
Flickering shadows amass upon silvery bitumen
Wet with paint in greens and blues and reds
Writhing as restless as the spirits that cast them
And the frivolities had begun
Signed by the crescendo of shrill laughter
Carry on
From whence comes this little girl,
Do you not see your mothers trailing hem?
To lose you amongst these restless waters
Would it cast you to unknown anywhere?
But still she only smiles
Yet infested with the ecstasy of her own breath
Now still, when the lights are dimmed
And only two exist upon the dance floor
They step up to the waving beats
Trying to capture this moment on memory’s film
When later, exposed to more glaring lights will omit
Those who watched and those who shook their heads
Some in pity and some in awe
At the perspective perfection of this moment
Still, be still when the candles cast their murmuring spells
But remember even as you forget
There are those who the spells won’t touch
And they will remind you to regret
Every emotion strung out by the melody
That softens every angle even now
That all is hidden yet in silvery mist
Every contour traced by soft darkness
Will break the spell upon dawning bright
So if you wish this moment to remain as it is
And as in the minds of many have done
What you wish to keep in this enchanted corner
Touched by magic in every breath
Transforming all into graceful swans
Then do not look back and do not tear
As they beat their wings upon morning
Dissipating silently in the distance
Leaving only a bitter taste
But when all’s said who would see the soulless streets
When all others had retired hand in hand to their respective beds
The wilted flowers, the crushed lanterns and the bright paper
Trodden to mush in muddy niches between stall and stall
Who would then see the cloth canopies disassembled?
Plank by plank beneath a greying sky
Or witness the wind sweep up all that had been abandoned
Or see the trees disrobed of their bulbed finery?
And when the street is once again choked
This time with impersonal machines and bobbing black umbrellas
All that would be left as a reminder to the festivities
Would be a napkin, by lucky chance,
Brushing lightly across the pavement in its escape
Our revels are yet to begin
A blurry sun too slow to fall has finally made its bed
And is presently replaced with rainbow flames
Some hidden shyly behind folded crepe,
Others tempted from their paper domes
By delicious smells wafting through the air
Weaving and ducking through sweet smokes,
Rising lazily from their sizzling beds
Footsteps hurry hither and thither always
Against the tide drifting neither here nor there,
Ruffle against boot, sleeve against collar
They compact in good nature
The one time no one seems to care
Flickering shadows amass upon silvery bitumen
Wet with paint in greens and blues and reds
Writhing as restless as the spirits that cast them
And the frivolities had begun
Signed by the crescendo of shrill laughter
Carry on
From whence comes this little girl,
Do you not see your mothers trailing hem?
To lose you amongst these restless waters
Would it cast you to unknown anywhere?
But still she only smiles
Yet infested with the ecstasy of her own breath
Now still, when the lights are dimmed
And only two exist upon the dance floor
They step up to the waving beats
Trying to capture this moment on memory’s film
When later, exposed to more glaring lights will omit
Those who watched and those who shook their heads
Some in pity and some in awe
At the perspective perfection of this moment
Still, be still when the candles cast their murmuring spells
But remember even as you forget
There are those who the spells won’t touch
And they will remind you to regret
Every emotion strung out by the melody
That softens every angle even now
That all is hidden yet in silvery mist
Every contour traced by soft darkness
Will break the spell upon dawning bright
So if you wish this moment to remain as it is
And as in the minds of many have done
What you wish to keep in this enchanted corner
Touched by magic in every breath
Transforming all into graceful swans
Then do not look back and do not tear
As they beat their wings upon morning
Dissipating silently in the distance
Leaving only a bitter taste
But when all’s said who would see the soulless streets
When all others had retired hand in hand to their respective beds
The wilted flowers, the crushed lanterns and the bright paper
Trodden to mush in muddy niches between stall and stall
Who would then see the cloth canopies disassembled?
Plank by plank beneath a greying sky
Or witness the wind sweep up all that had been abandoned
Or see the trees disrobed of their bulbed finery?
And when the street is once again choked
This time with impersonal machines and bobbing black umbrellas
All that would be left as a reminder to the festivities
Would be a napkin, by lucky chance,
Brushing lightly across the pavement in its escape
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Autumn's end.
Wow things have been hectic lately.
First of all, musical ended.
But with it's departure, we are left with so many memories,
and so many songs just stuck in our heads on repeat.
Last musical. Good memories.
I know I will definately remember this for years and years to come.
As with any major joint coed venture, the gossip seem to fly with the musical as much as the musical notes itself.
Very amusing really when one is not involved.
Very amusing to listen to indeed.
It's all very exciting.
Alas, now that it's over though things will die down.
I will actually have to sit through class without being able to look forward to musical on friday.
No more dinners with friends.
No more immitating cronically angry policemen.
No more ladies of the night, or ladies of the factory, or ladies of the town.
We're just school children now. Just young ladies.
Yet, musical has changed all of us in some small way.
We grew close to people we would've never met.
Shared laughter and tears with people we would've never known.
Stripped in the vicinity of those we'd never even acknowledged otherwise.
We went to places, and we still are.
Just look at today, us strolling through serene suburbia pretending to be prisoners in 18th century France.
So in that way, my first and last musical would never leave me.
But remain forever engraved upon my mind and heart.
First of all, musical ended.
But with it's departure, we are left with so many memories,
and so many songs just stuck in our heads on repeat.
Last musical. Good memories.
I know I will definately remember this for years and years to come.
As with any major joint coed venture, the gossip seem to fly with the musical as much as the musical notes itself.
Very amusing really when one is not involved.
Very amusing to listen to indeed.
It's all very exciting.
Alas, now that it's over though things will die down.
I will actually have to sit through class without being able to look forward to musical on friday.
No more dinners with friends.
No more immitating cronically angry policemen.
No more ladies of the night, or ladies of the factory, or ladies of the town.
We're just school children now. Just young ladies.
Yet, musical has changed all of us in some small way.
We grew close to people we would've never met.
Shared laughter and tears with people we would've never known.
Stripped in the vicinity of those we'd never even acknowledged otherwise.
We went to places, and we still are.
Just look at today, us strolling through serene suburbia pretending to be prisoners in 18th century France.
So in that way, my first and last musical would never leave me.
But remain forever engraved upon my mind and heart.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Hey There - Reprise (new)
Hey girl.
You see that man over there
The one who's got you over the clouds
A word of advice, beware.
Hey girl
Keep your heart safetly locked away
It's easy to give to someone
In return for sweet words to say
Hey girl
Don't you worry about him
He's got you dancing in his palm
Ready to crush your wings
Hey girl
Know that you're not the only one
Those whispers and that sigh
Many other hearts had one
So listen to me
Take heed of my words and listen well
Bar the way to your heart with iron
Arm your warning bell
For love is too precious to give to just anyone
For love is too blind to tell
Good and bad becomes a maddened blur
A piece of heaven and a piece of hell
Take your heart and guard it well.
You see that man over there
The one who's got you over the clouds
A word of advice, beware.
Hey girl
Keep your heart safetly locked away
It's easy to give to someone
In return for sweet words to say
Hey girl
Don't you worry about him
He's got you dancing in his palm
Ready to crush your wings
Hey girl
Know that you're not the only one
Those whispers and that sigh
Many other hearts had one
So listen to me
Take heed of my words and listen well
Bar the way to your heart with iron
Arm your warning bell
For love is too precious to give to just anyone
For love is too blind to tell
Good and bad becomes a maddened blur
A piece of heaven and a piece of hell
Take your heart and guard it well.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Night
If I were alone,
To catch your tears in my palm
Hidden from the downward flood
Pressed against the chilling arch.
If the ivy were fingers
Creeping up to the heights
Only your tears have travelled
Reveling in your grief.
If you were standing behind me
Not watching my folly from above
A single thought, a single body
To stave your boundless pains.
Though disappointed sighs do not reach me
Still your presence leaves a void
But is it not cruel
How your tears beat blameless pavement?
Wearing it away
Another collateral inanimate concrete.
Your face above grows dark from fury
But still the stars taunt you
Happily winking from the deep navy
Between the taints of lighter smoke.
Glaring back from yellow eyes
Half lidded, slit irises
Set upon speckled glowing whites
Willing them to cower and hide.
Turning your waxen eyes to meet mine
How can one not see the hurt?
If the cold swish of a skirt on puddles
Were a gentle exhalation
If the wailing of your sigh
Were a deep throated howl
Dear sky, we understand each other well
To catch your tears in my palm
Hidden from the downward flood
Pressed against the chilling arch.
If the ivy were fingers
Creeping up to the heights
Only your tears have travelled
Reveling in your grief.
If you were standing behind me
Not watching my folly from above
A single thought, a single body
To stave your boundless pains.
Though disappointed sighs do not reach me
Still your presence leaves a void
But is it not cruel
How your tears beat blameless pavement?
Wearing it away
Another collateral inanimate concrete.
Your face above grows dark from fury
But still the stars taunt you
Happily winking from the deep navy
Between the taints of lighter smoke.
Glaring back from yellow eyes
Half lidded, slit irises
Set upon speckled glowing whites
Willing them to cower and hide.
Turning your waxen eyes to meet mine
How can one not see the hurt?
If the cold swish of a skirt on puddles
Were a gentle exhalation
If the wailing of your sigh
Were a deep throated howl
Dear sky, we understand each other well
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Wave
"So...?"
I glanced up. He lounged awkwardly against the swaying wall of the carriage, his eyes flitting here and there. No smile. His posture was of an ease contradicting his obvious nervousness. He could've just shouted get me out of here.
I extended the tendrils of my consciousness towards him, brushing lightly against his skin and probed lightly between his lips, but found no words on the tips of his tongue. I could feel the vibrations of the whirling machinery churning up conversation topics in his head. This is what we do in the presence of strangers. Was that what I had become? The surreal limbs began to wave frantically.
The doors clattered open and bodies began to trickle, then pour into the space between us. For a few relieving seconds, he could relax and I could breathe. It must've been opposite day. Across the newly bred distance between us, our eyes met in a true smile, the first of the day. Perhaps distance does make the heart fonder. I felt the tendrils receed back into its liquid pool deep within my body. I could see it's warped, lustrous surface dilating in beat to my heart, flowing through my veins. It is trapped. It is safe.
There was suppose to be a connection. An invisible channel of this shiny stuff that would flow between us, a connection that could be felt over any distance. It would be elastic, drawing us forever closer, the tension rising with distance if we were to force ourselves apart. It would pour feelings, thoughts, intimacy and understanding into both minds, energy into both bodies, warmth into both hearts. It is a thing that's meant to be shared. But not now. One day.
I'll be waiting.
I glanced up. He lounged awkwardly against the swaying wall of the carriage, his eyes flitting here and there. No smile. His posture was of an ease contradicting his obvious nervousness. He could've just shouted get me out of here.
I extended the tendrils of my consciousness towards him, brushing lightly against his skin and probed lightly between his lips, but found no words on the tips of his tongue. I could feel the vibrations of the whirling machinery churning up conversation topics in his head. This is what we do in the presence of strangers. Was that what I had become? The surreal limbs began to wave frantically.
The doors clattered open and bodies began to trickle, then pour into the space between us. For a few relieving seconds, he could relax and I could breathe. It must've been opposite day. Across the newly bred distance between us, our eyes met in a true smile, the first of the day. Perhaps distance does make the heart fonder. I felt the tendrils receed back into its liquid pool deep within my body. I could see it's warped, lustrous surface dilating in beat to my heart, flowing through my veins. It is trapped. It is safe.
There was suppose to be a connection. An invisible channel of this shiny stuff that would flow between us, a connection that could be felt over any distance. It would be elastic, drawing us forever closer, the tension rising with distance if we were to force ourselves apart. It would pour feelings, thoughts, intimacy and understanding into both minds, energy into both bodies, warmth into both hearts. It is a thing that's meant to be shared. But not now. One day.
I'll be waiting.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Different
it's amazing how things go in circles
...round and round and round...
just when you thought the bad days were over
they've really just begun.
Now i even rhyme without meaning to.
What's missing?
The scary thing is knowing you're the very thing you hate
Perhaps the only reason you hate them is because you are so like them.
Talk to me.
Please.
Anyone.
Looking back, it seems like loneliness is the only feeling i've ever figured out.
Constant.
This constant thirst for human companionship that i cannot quench.
Why?
Let's go back, back to the beginning
Back to when the earth the sun the stars were all in line...
...round and round and round...
just when you thought the bad days were over
they've really just begun.
Now i even rhyme without meaning to.
What's missing?
The scary thing is knowing you're the very thing you hate
Perhaps the only reason you hate them is because you are so like them.
Talk to me.
Please.
Anyone.
Looking back, it seems like loneliness is the only feeling i've ever figured out.
Constant.
This constant thirst for human companionship that i cannot quench.
Why?
Let's go back, back to the beginning
Back to when the earth the sun the stars were all in line...
Friday, May 14, 2010
Long
The silence deafens me.
Your promises ring empty.
All that I thought was false have been proven true.
It's strange that when I see them loving that I should think of you.
Because though nothing stirs, no emotions, no hurt, no curiosity
There seems to be a lingering fragility as my mind runs through all that you do.
As if it would break and fade if I should but brush it with my fingertips
Melt away into foam should I but caress it with my breath
Hold it only in my mind.
Nothing is what it seems.
Nothing was supposed to turn out this way.
Habit?
But even now, my words fall upon deaf ears and unlike the others, you do not rejoice at the opportunity, but recoil as I try to coax you out to see me. Why is that? Why should I never be the wanted, the needed.
Because it is just so, they say.
Too loudy.
Even the crispest photographs yellow with time.
Habit. Sour habit, always and always.
Can I not see what I have done wrong?
Once again history receives its repetition humbly, as shall I. Time to move on?
Traditions set solidly in concrete is hard to break, had to crumble.
I shall break something.
Yet, I need to try.
Or fail, trying.
Small talk, hugging.
What good are they to me?
Should I bury myself, once again, in my books, in my worlds where everything was right, predictable ytet exciting, monotonous, uniform, limited and yet vast?
Perhaps I should.
Perhaps I belong there more than anywhere else.
Your promises ring empty.
All that I thought was false have been proven true.
It's strange that when I see them loving that I should think of you.
Because though nothing stirs, no emotions, no hurt, no curiosity
There seems to be a lingering fragility as my mind runs through all that you do.
As if it would break and fade if I should but brush it with my fingertips
Melt away into foam should I but caress it with my breath
Hold it only in my mind.
Nothing is what it seems.
Nothing was supposed to turn out this way.
Habit?
But even now, my words fall upon deaf ears and unlike the others, you do not rejoice at the opportunity, but recoil as I try to coax you out to see me. Why is that? Why should I never be the wanted, the needed.
Because it is just so, they say.
Too loudy.
Even the crispest photographs yellow with time.
Habit. Sour habit, always and always.
Can I not see what I have done wrong?
Once again history receives its repetition humbly, as shall I. Time to move on?
Traditions set solidly in concrete is hard to break, had to crumble.
I shall break something.
Yet, I need to try.
Or fail, trying.
Small talk, hugging.
What good are they to me?
Should I bury myself, once again, in my books, in my worlds where everything was right, predictable ytet exciting, monotonous, uniform, limited and yet vast?
Perhaps I should.
Perhaps I belong there more than anywhere else.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Moonlight
I could see a patch of walkway from my window if I climbed on top of my window and pressed myself against the cold glass. A small patch of concrete lit by pale fluorescent light from the carpark next door, framed by a narrow strip of navy sky. If I was lucky, I might even be able to see a star or two.
Quite often, I would curl myself up into this uncomfortable position. Shivering in light clothes, I would pretend that I could see him below me, standing on that narrow patch. His shadow would fall, stretched into comical proportions, against the gently sighing bamboo. I would pretend that he would stare up at me, smiling at how silly the smiling moons that adorned his lady love might've seemed. Since when did princesses in towers dress in pyjamas?
But more often than not, it would be cold. The pane would chill my fingers and even the prickles of light beckoning to me from their narrow home could not coax me to stay. Then, the curtains would be drawn open, the pillow propped against the edge of the bed and the pale fluorescent lighting would try to pass itself as bleaching moonlight. It sometimes works. Sometimes doesn't.
I saw a bright, full blue moon once. It's light made everything as bright as day. My shadow fell. Jewels seemed to lock the moonlight within their silvery depths. The jade necklace seemed luminous in its own right. Magic. I saw magic. The road was paved with ivory. The clouds were lined with silver, as were the rooftops. The trees were full of fairy lights flitting in the gentle breeze. No more pretending.
The moon called to me, pulling me from my little matchbox house. The walls seemed immaterial, like I could melt right through if I so wished. The hand on the door seemd foreign, but the lock would not turn. The spell broke as soon as I left the moon's rays. I could only bask in light filtered through glass.
When day had dawned, nothing remained of last night. The ground was sitlll concrete. The bamboo still stringy and worn. The carpark still stood with its fluorescent lights. Nothing called to me.
Quite often, I would curl myself up into this uncomfortable position. Shivering in light clothes, I would pretend that I could see him below me, standing on that narrow patch. His shadow would fall, stretched into comical proportions, against the gently sighing bamboo. I would pretend that he would stare up at me, smiling at how silly the smiling moons that adorned his lady love might've seemed. Since when did princesses in towers dress in pyjamas?
But more often than not, it would be cold. The pane would chill my fingers and even the prickles of light beckoning to me from their narrow home could not coax me to stay. Then, the curtains would be drawn open, the pillow propped against the edge of the bed and the pale fluorescent lighting would try to pass itself as bleaching moonlight. It sometimes works. Sometimes doesn't.
I saw a bright, full blue moon once. It's light made everything as bright as day. My shadow fell. Jewels seemed to lock the moonlight within their silvery depths. The jade necklace seemed luminous in its own right. Magic. I saw magic. The road was paved with ivory. The clouds were lined with silver, as were the rooftops. The trees were full of fairy lights flitting in the gentle breeze. No more pretending.
The moon called to me, pulling me from my little matchbox house. The walls seemed immaterial, like I could melt right through if I so wished. The hand on the door seemd foreign, but the lock would not turn. The spell broke as soon as I left the moon's rays. I could only bask in light filtered through glass.
When day had dawned, nothing remained of last night. The ground was sitlll concrete. The bamboo still stringy and worn. The carpark still stood with its fluorescent lights. Nothing called to me.
House Of War
Causes and effect
Broken Emotions
Apologies banging on closed doors
Camouflaged ices and snows
Beneath flaming exteriors
She who cries
And she who cries in mirroring frustration
Moans of anguish
A divided house
Heard breaking in the silence
Warring Nations
Who's dependence of each other
Is only as deep as their opposition
Why should they fear each other so?
Wonders the father
As the two women in his life
Tear each other apart.
Broken Emotions
Apologies banging on closed doors
Camouflaged ices and snows
Beneath flaming exteriors
She who cries
And she who cries in mirroring frustration
Moans of anguish
A divided house
Heard breaking in the silence
Warring Nations
Who's dependence of each other
Is only as deep as their opposition
Why should they fear each other so?
Wonders the father
As the two women in his life
Tear each other apart.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Lake of Sighs
Your love. Have I broken it?
The dreams, the fantasies
Have I shattered them?
I didn't mean to.
I'm lost. You say you're empty
But nothing is able to sew
These seams back together.
How come?
What has been lost
And remain unrecoverable?
I saw my temper flare, and I saw it's petals singe you.
I'm sorry.
Why? So many things, only one thing.
I don't know yet again. Forgive me.
I hope it's too late.
So there would be no going back
When circumstances should force me to move on
I'll be ready.
I think at the bottom of all this
None of us really know what we want
What we're willing to give to acheive it
And what we expect to get back.
Expectations > reality > effort
It's always been this way and always will be
Don't expect the world for a grain of rice.
I admire you.
I pity you.
I adore you.
I value you.
I trust you.
I care for you
I want to protect you.
I am scared for you.
But I don't love you.
Understand. Please. Please...
Understand me.
The dreams, the fantasies
Have I shattered them?
I didn't mean to.
I'm lost. You say you're empty
But nothing is able to sew
These seams back together.
How come?
What has been lost
And remain unrecoverable?
I saw my temper flare, and I saw it's petals singe you.
I'm sorry.
Why? So many things, only one thing.
I don't know yet again. Forgive me.
I hope it's too late.
So there would be no going back
When circumstances should force me to move on
I'll be ready.
I think at the bottom of all this
None of us really know what we want
What we're willing to give to acheive it
And what we expect to get back.
Expectations > reality > effort
It's always been this way and always will be
Don't expect the world for a grain of rice.
I admire you.
I pity you.
I adore you.
I value you.
I trust you.
I care for you
I want to protect you.
I am scared for you.
But I don't love you.
Understand. Please. Please...
Understand me.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
All for One
Do sad songs contribute towards a bad mood...
Or do sad song cause depression?
It's like asking what came first, the chicken or the egg.
We concluded that probably both popped into existance together.
A chicken and an egg. *pop*
If only I could draw as well as blog...
Yeah yeah best birthday party ever.
We were IGNORED by the adults.
Isn't that the protocol?
Didnt get a wish, didnt get to cut the cake, didnt have candles
Did have cake, did have coffee with the cake
Did have Jerry and Oliver
I think Jerry likes Oliver. He did say our argument was the highlight of the day...
Haha, but then again, we're awesome.
Dreams dreams dreams, I keep dreaming about water.
Floods, drowning people, drowning myself.
I swear I do so much more in my dreams than in real life.
It just seems like a more interesting reality.
Even if it is only in my own head.
Doing biology report that I had so eloquently neglected for the past week
I'm starting to unwind from study mode again
Uh oh.
I can't seem to kepe my room clean.
As soon as I clean it, it gets dirty again. Why?
Fairies. Psh. I wish.
Lah lah lah. Heres my creative piece for the day:
Your presence eludes any definition. It permeated so deeply into the fabric of my reality that I no longer felt your physical entry into my sensory world. I could feel you there, your existence entangled with mine, twisting and twining, weaving everything I taste, see, feel and know. When I am still, I can feel my heart beating in rhythm to yours, my blood coursing through your veins and yours through mine. I often wondered if you concentrated you would be able to see through my eyes, taste my food, feel the rough texture of bark under my fingers and share my dreams. To tear you away from me is to rend apart my world, to pick every stitch of reality and to unravel every thread of happiness. I concluded that I will never allow that to occur.
Or do sad song cause depression?
It's like asking what came first, the chicken or the egg.
We concluded that probably both popped into existance together.
A chicken and an egg. *pop*
If only I could draw as well as blog...
Yeah yeah best birthday party ever.
We were IGNORED by the adults.
Isn't that the protocol?
Didnt get a wish, didnt get to cut the cake, didnt have candles
Did have cake, did have coffee with the cake
Did have Jerry and Oliver
I think Jerry likes Oliver. He did say our argument was the highlight of the day...
Haha, but then again, we're awesome.
Dreams dreams dreams, I keep dreaming about water.
Floods, drowning people, drowning myself.
I swear I do so much more in my dreams than in real life.
It just seems like a more interesting reality.
Even if it is only in my own head.
Doing biology report that I had so eloquently neglected for the past week
I'm starting to unwind from study mode again
Uh oh.
I can't seem to kepe my room clean.
As soon as I clean it, it gets dirty again. Why?
Fairies. Psh. I wish.
Lah lah lah. Heres my creative piece for the day:
Your presence eludes any definition. It permeated so deeply into the fabric of my reality that I no longer felt your physical entry into my sensory world. I could feel you there, your existence entangled with mine, twisting and twining, weaving everything I taste, see, feel and know. When I am still, I can feel my heart beating in rhythm to yours, my blood coursing through your veins and yours through mine. I often wondered if you concentrated you would be able to see through my eyes, taste my food, feel the rough texture of bark under my fingers and share my dreams. To tear you away from me is to rend apart my world, to pick every stitch of reality and to unravel every thread of happiness. I concluded that I will never allow that to occur.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Concrete Angel- Martina McBride
She walks to school with the lunch she packed
Nobody knows what she's holding back
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with the linen and lace, oh
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
Through the wind and the rain she stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place
Where she's loved
concrete angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear but they turn out the light
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it will be too late
Through the wind and the rain she stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place
Where she's loved
concrete angel
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
Through the wind and the rain she stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place
Where she's loved
concrete angel
Nobody knows what she's holding back
Wearing the same dress she wore yesterday
She hides the bruises with the linen and lace, oh
The teacher wonders but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes she wishes she was never born
Through the wind and the rain she stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place
Where she's loved
concrete angel
Somebody cries in the middle of the night
The neighbors hear but they turn out the light
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes it will be too late
Through the wind and the rain she stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place
Where she's loved
concrete angel
A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel girl with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot
Through the wind and the rain she stands hard as a stone
In a world that she can't rise above
But her dreams give her wings and she flies to a place
Where she's loved
concrete angel
Revelation
"What's the problem?"
I don't know. There isn't really one. What more can I ask for?
Something permanent perhaps. Someone permanent.
But that's asking for too much?
You tell me what's wrong.
You tell me...
I don't know. There isn't really one. What more can I ask for?
Something permanent perhaps. Someone permanent.
But that's asking for too much?
You tell me what's wrong.
You tell me...
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Four Winds
I went to the ocean and found the West wind there
Her dark hair streaming behind her as she sailed over the waves
Her eyes glittering like the crystal cut diamonds above her
Roaring her joy in teasing the oceans into writhing foam
"Wild West wind, what will make you help me?"
And she laughed at my folly, for she has never known love.
What should I find amongst the tree tops but the North wind
Her frigid breath glancing upon the leaves deposit a silver lining
Throwing herself against the woody bars of her prison
Howling her anguish to the uncaring, cold waxen moon
"Frozen North wind, would you happen to know what I'm looking for?"
But she was too far drowned in a lake of her own despair to hear me
In a field where I sat, I chanced upon the South wind
Her golden gown caressing the carpet flowers dotting the green
Her creamy hand stretching to kiss each blade of grass
Sighing her contentment as the blades rippled to her breath
"Lovely South wind, can you see what I desperately seek?"
She glanced back at me with warm eyes, not understanding.
One can always find the East wind in a sleepy town
Her gentle breath tickling the flames of a wavering candle
Her curiosity sounding a twinkling chime hanging by the open window
Giggling away her amusement gently between the eaves of an empty house
"Gentle East wind, have you glanced upon whom I seek within this town?"
She shook her head in denial, and drifted off after some new amusement.
Her dark hair streaming behind her as she sailed over the waves
Her eyes glittering like the crystal cut diamonds above her
Roaring her joy in teasing the oceans into writhing foam
"Wild West wind, what will make you help me?"
And she laughed at my folly, for she has never known love.
What should I find amongst the tree tops but the North wind
Her frigid breath glancing upon the leaves deposit a silver lining
Throwing herself against the woody bars of her prison
Howling her anguish to the uncaring, cold waxen moon
"Frozen North wind, would you happen to know what I'm looking for?"
But she was too far drowned in a lake of her own despair to hear me
In a field where I sat, I chanced upon the South wind
Her golden gown caressing the carpet flowers dotting the green
Her creamy hand stretching to kiss each blade of grass
Sighing her contentment as the blades rippled to her breath
"Lovely South wind, can you see what I desperately seek?"
She glanced back at me with warm eyes, not understanding.
One can always find the East wind in a sleepy town
Her gentle breath tickling the flames of a wavering candle
Her curiosity sounding a twinkling chime hanging by the open window
Giggling away her amusement gently between the eaves of an empty house
"Gentle East wind, have you glanced upon whom I seek within this town?"
She shook her head in denial, and drifted off after some new amusement.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Begin
Been just hanging around here and there, haunted by past ghosts. It's a small world isn't it.
Been waking up everyday and crossing it off, hoping tomorrow won't come too fast.
But we gotta go back sometime I guess.
How have I been? Well that's hard to say. I've been good and bad, but then that's life.
Bouts of depression, chocolate highs. Same ol' same ol'. Wishing for things I cannot obtain.
Not appreciating the things I have enough. But being overall, well.
Haven't seen my mates for awhile, what have I been doing all this time? Hanging. Chilling. Abit out of touch with reality really. No big get togethers, no groups. One on one, personal. Special, almost. I know better than that.
Procrastination. I kid myself when I say that it wouldn't happen. I knew it would. Sigh. There's still time, no there isn't. This lethargic feeling will not go away. I think I got fatter again. Oh well, the winter will no doubt wear it off enough if I watch myself.
Year 11, trust me when I say that it's still sinking in. Slowly, mucous in nature. Overload. What do I have to fear? Hidden away, I fear the beginning. The days that seep into nights until time is but a grey concoction of numbness. That is what I fear and abhor. Two more years. I promise then it will all be over, they say. It seems like an eternity.
What do I want to be? What is my motivation?
Been waking up everyday and crossing it off, hoping tomorrow won't come too fast.
But we gotta go back sometime I guess.
How have I been? Well that's hard to say. I've been good and bad, but then that's life.
Bouts of depression, chocolate highs. Same ol' same ol'. Wishing for things I cannot obtain.
Not appreciating the things I have enough. But being overall, well.
Haven't seen my mates for awhile, what have I been doing all this time? Hanging. Chilling. Abit out of touch with reality really. No big get togethers, no groups. One on one, personal. Special, almost. I know better than that.
Procrastination. I kid myself when I say that it wouldn't happen. I knew it would. Sigh. There's still time, no there isn't. This lethargic feeling will not go away. I think I got fatter again. Oh well, the winter will no doubt wear it off enough if I watch myself.
Year 11, trust me when I say that it's still sinking in. Slowly, mucous in nature. Overload. What do I have to fear? Hidden away, I fear the beginning. The days that seep into nights until time is but a grey concoction of numbness. That is what I fear and abhor. Two more years. I promise then it will all be over, they say. It seems like an eternity.
What do I want to be? What is my motivation?
Monday, April 12, 2010
Shipboard
Wriggling on our bellies over the crumbling edge, we dropped, one by one, quietly into the little alcove dug into the steep descend by imaginary centuries of salty winds. One, two, three, bodies lithely lowered themselved into our line of sight. A clatter of rocks followed as a fourth, build less agiley, tumbled and thumped into the natural cave. We froze. All winced. We all listened for any disturbance through the thin earth above our heads. The drugs tainting the guards wines were potent and were proved true. More bodies followed, but we had turned our attention to a small ledge leading a steep descent to our goal, a shipwreck.We could seen the central mast from here, a stark protrusion of dark wood against the pale lavender of evening sky leaning precariously around the corner. The few shredded remnants of grey fabric sail hung limp and soggy, twitching now and then to the fickle wind. The shattered hull, embossed into our minds with days of endless observation, was obscured by the curve of the cliff face. We edged on in single file, pressing our palms against the rough sandstone, our clothes plastered against our bodies by damp winds.
The stern of the ship emerged with the fading sun over the horizon. A hazy fog blanketed the surface of the water, lazily drifting towards the shore across the pink tainted grey of the still bay. The jagged rocks pinching the hull between its fingers stood in clear, azure water, framed by a rainbow of reef. Low rocking waves sounded the empty hull like a drum, its hollow echo deep and mellow. The same waves lapped idly at the boulders beneath our feet. A few hardy tuffs of silver green grass peeked out from rocky shelters and stretched towards the water here and there amongst the pale yellow streaked with rust. The onminous wreck loomed over us now.
Though the water looked inviting, the grimance on the faces of my comrades, now slipping one by one into the water and paddling towards the wreck, suggested otherwise. It was mind numbingly cold. Cold as the ice it resembled. The wavelets, licking, nibbling, freezing, prickling, were a thousand hands groping for the fire that slowly ebbed away within my body. The air felt warm. Of all my senses, only sound remained, the spalsh of water against rock, againt the ship, against me. And then, I was being pulled into the gaping hole on the side of the ship, stepping into a damp, semi flooded wooden cave. It was somewhat warmer there, the rotten boards buffeting the wind that whistled through from on deck. Slowly, feeling returned to my limbs, and we all lined up where the sea pulsed into its victim to help the next fellow across.
So far, we'd only lost one. He slipped beneath the wavelets in a gurgle of incomprehensible terror, leg firmly grasped by the local giant octopus that had finally decided to make itself known to us. A moment later, the numbers had jumped back one. 9 in our crew. Out of curiosity and sadistic boredom, I switched to the player count numbers, and watched the numbers. Tick, another one had disappeared. 482,937 left. Half of those who had started this those four months ago. Tick. Ah, there goes another one. How many would survive to make an impact on this world? Not many at this rate.
The stern of the ship emerged with the fading sun over the horizon. A hazy fog blanketed the surface of the water, lazily drifting towards the shore across the pink tainted grey of the still bay. The jagged rocks pinching the hull between its fingers stood in clear, azure water, framed by a rainbow of reef. Low rocking waves sounded the empty hull like a drum, its hollow echo deep and mellow. The same waves lapped idly at the boulders beneath our feet. A few hardy tuffs of silver green grass peeked out from rocky shelters and stretched towards the water here and there amongst the pale yellow streaked with rust. The onminous wreck loomed over us now.
Though the water looked inviting, the grimance on the faces of my comrades, now slipping one by one into the water and paddling towards the wreck, suggested otherwise. It was mind numbingly cold. Cold as the ice it resembled. The wavelets, licking, nibbling, freezing, prickling, were a thousand hands groping for the fire that slowly ebbed away within my body. The air felt warm. Of all my senses, only sound remained, the spalsh of water against rock, againt the ship, against me. And then, I was being pulled into the gaping hole on the side of the ship, stepping into a damp, semi flooded wooden cave. It was somewhat warmer there, the rotten boards buffeting the wind that whistled through from on deck. Slowly, feeling returned to my limbs, and we all lined up where the sea pulsed into its victim to help the next fellow across.
So far, we'd only lost one. He slipped beneath the wavelets in a gurgle of incomprehensible terror, leg firmly grasped by the local giant octopus that had finally decided to make itself known to us. A moment later, the numbers had jumped back one. 9 in our crew. Out of curiosity and sadistic boredom, I switched to the player count numbers, and watched the numbers. Tick, another one had disappeared. 482,937 left. Half of those who had started this those four months ago. Tick. Ah, there goes another one. How many would survive to make an impact on this world? Not many at this rate.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Living Free
Turned away from the morning sun and buried my eyes away from the glare
The piercing stare of reality.
Found a dark spot to gaze into as I traced the dancing dots with my mind
The alarm began to scream.
Tore my thoughts into little shreds then crammed them back where they belong.
The sheets were still warm.
Conformity from the minute I wake up to when I leave and no one will stare
The new day is dawn.
Dawning light. Pink clouds.
People rushing by who cannot see.
They never learnt the art of recognizing beauty.
Rushing home weary from the day of being pushed along by the masses
It's all the same to me
In and out, back again in this endless cycle of morning to evening
It's all a blur to me
From the east to the west there are a million houses with the same things
It's all a mystery
As I turned away from the day I sought refuge with my dreams
It's not how it's supposed to be
Blank voices. Hollow faces.
Deep shadows chasing happy endings.
Even the niche of paradise had been tainted clean.
Give me a signpost to a place where I can be living free...
Let me find a place where I won't be the one who's running...
Tell me, sisters and brothers that you believe in such a dimension
Off this planet, out of this world, where freedom exists...
The piercing stare of reality.
Found a dark spot to gaze into as I traced the dancing dots with my mind
The alarm began to scream.
Tore my thoughts into little shreds then crammed them back where they belong.
The sheets were still warm.
Conformity from the minute I wake up to when I leave and no one will stare
The new day is dawn.
Dawning light. Pink clouds.
People rushing by who cannot see.
They never learnt the art of recognizing beauty.
Rushing home weary from the day of being pushed along by the masses
It's all the same to me
In and out, back again in this endless cycle of morning to evening
It's all a blur to me
From the east to the west there are a million houses with the same things
It's all a mystery
As I turned away from the day I sought refuge with my dreams
It's not how it's supposed to be
Blank voices. Hollow faces.
Deep shadows chasing happy endings.
Even the niche of paradise had been tainted clean.
Give me a signpost to a place where I can be living free...
Let me find a place where I won't be the one who's running...
Tell me, sisters and brothers that you believe in such a dimension
Off this planet, out of this world, where freedom exists...
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
One
Live a great deal of my life in my head.
This steady rhythm only punctuated by imagination
Sunrise, sunset, then sunrise again
A never ending revolution
Who's to say that tomorrow will be different from today
Who would tell me what to smile to?
The only difference from this light to the one before
Is that I don’t know if this night will happen
People rush by with their heads down
Don’t they see how the dawn paints the clouds?
What could’ve happened, so deadening
That all the beauty had been stripped of their world…
--------------------------------------------------------
This steady rhythm only punctuated by imagination
Sunrise, sunset, then sunrise again
A never ending revolution
Who's to say that tomorrow will be different from today
Who would tell me what to smile to?
The only difference from this light to the one before
Is that I don’t know if this night will happen
People rush by with their heads down
Don’t they see how the dawn paints the clouds?
What could’ve happened, so deadening
That all the beauty had been stripped of their world…
--------------------------------------------------------
Monday, March 8, 2010
Three Firsts
# First Leaf Fall
A river of leaves
A river of fire
Carpet, sea, drowning
The roots of maple trees
Blue skies bordered
White clouds frame
Brown earth engulfs
Another year's work
#First Rain
Tears running rivets
Down her cracked face
Through her bleached hair
Soaked into her shirt
It fed the waiting seeds
Filled the thirsty ways
Clothed with eve dew
Peeking green blades
#First Light
When the lady of night
Set foot beyond our world
Tumbled out her children
Three frivolous boys
They painted the sky
With pastel colors
And poured golden syrup
On their disc of day
A river of leaves
A river of fire
Carpet, sea, drowning
The roots of maple trees
Blue skies bordered
White clouds frame
Brown earth engulfs
Another year's work
#First Rain
Tears running rivets
Down her cracked face
Through her bleached hair
Soaked into her shirt
It fed the waiting seeds
Filled the thirsty ways
Clothed with eve dew
Peeking green blades
#First Light
When the lady of night
Set foot beyond our world
Tumbled out her children
Three frivolous boys
They painted the sky
With pastel colors
And poured golden syrup
On their disc of day
A Cold Dose of Reality
He says he looks in the mirror
And he can't tell anymore
Who he really is and
Who they believe him to be.
He says he walks a thin line
Between what is and what could be
And he's getting closer
To something he can't understand
Cuz there's a crack in his plastic crown
And his throne of ice is melting
Climbed a ladder, there was nothing there
Now it's a long way down.
-------------------------------------------
How does it feel to hide behind bars coated with candy?
You can lick at the sugary sweetness but never taste bitter reality.
Pining away for a breath of fresh air when all you have is all you've known
The outside isn't that simple sweetheart, and you can't always stay with me
--------------------------------------------
I said good morning while you're saying good night and this mismatched conversation leaves the both of us confused.
For us it's more than just a kiss and a hug and a few sweet words, people who get along don't love.
Now I'm faced with this decision of deciding who I will be in your eyes.
You really can't love a person unless you know who they are inside.
I've said this before.
All the while, the person who stood by and just smiled leans futher away from my grasp.
I can't reach out.
What now?
The fact that the day is so young can be both good and bad.
Fear is something I'm not used to feeling this early on.
Wish you wouldn't dismiss me, or maybe it's just you've run out of words.
Suddenly I find that there is no such thing as a replacement for another.
And should these words find their way to your ear, know that nothing is ever for certain.
Perhaps we were too headstrong.
And he can't tell anymore
Who he really is and
Who they believe him to be.
He says he walks a thin line
Between what is and what could be
And he's getting closer
To something he can't understand
Cuz there's a crack in his plastic crown
And his throne of ice is melting
Climbed a ladder, there was nothing there
Now it's a long way down.
-------------------------------------------
How does it feel to hide behind bars coated with candy?
You can lick at the sugary sweetness but never taste bitter reality.
Pining away for a breath of fresh air when all you have is all you've known
The outside isn't that simple sweetheart, and you can't always stay with me
--------------------------------------------
I said good morning while you're saying good night and this mismatched conversation leaves the both of us confused.
For us it's more than just a kiss and a hug and a few sweet words, people who get along don't love.
Now I'm faced with this decision of deciding who I will be in your eyes.
You really can't love a person unless you know who they are inside.
I've said this before.
All the while, the person who stood by and just smiled leans futher away from my grasp.
I can't reach out.
What now?
The fact that the day is so young can be both good and bad.
Fear is something I'm not used to feeling this early on.
Wish you wouldn't dismiss me, or maybe it's just you've run out of words.
Suddenly I find that there is no such thing as a replacement for another.
And should these words find their way to your ear, know that nothing is ever for certain.
Perhaps we were too headstrong.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Hit List '10
1. Juniors... WATCH OUT, we're seniors now =D
2. Maths textbook. The cambridge must be DEFEATED
3. The LUK LUK. I'm getting you back for my bruises.
4. The turtle man. Steph WILL NOT defeated me in insults this year around.
5. the Kassar. Made me shorter from all the bopping.
6. The Glinny. Science is hell in the wrong hands!
7. Locker dictator. I'm scared now... *shift*
8.Shawty's like a melody in my head. You just lost the game. Goddamn
9. Tirra Lirra By the River. Bloody morbid chick.
10. Aaaaah, an age old war continues on. Me vs Pink
11. NSW. Who made up the goddam syllabus. WHY DO WE HAVE SO MUCH WORK
12. Piano. Enough said.
13. Tristan, before he gets me for always kissing Julia.
2. Maths textbook. The cambridge must be DEFEATED
3. The LUK LUK. I'm getting you back for my bruises.
4. The turtle man. Steph WILL NOT defeated me in insults this year around.
5. the Kassar. Made me shorter from all the bopping.
6. The Glinny. Science is hell in the wrong hands!
7. Locker dictator. I'm scared now... *shift*
8.Shawty's like a melody in my head. You just lost the game. Goddamn
9. Tirra Lirra By the River. Bloody morbid chick.
10. Aaaaah, an age old war continues on. Me vs Pink
11. NSW. Who made up the goddam syllabus. WHY DO WE HAVE SO MUCH WORK
12. Piano. Enough said.
13. Tristan, before he gets me for always kissing Julia.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Truth
Could you let down your hair and just be transparent for awhile?
While we all try to figure this out and hopefully come up with a compromise that will work out for all.
Honesty is a hard attribute to find, when we all want to seem like we've got everything figured out.
I won't kid myself into thinking that all is where it should be, for there is no such thing as the perfect situation.
I'm just too tired to try and find faults in something that only feels wrong.
But evidently I'm not the only one.
And it's at times like this that things either break or mend, with a little push.
When it's way past time that neither should, would, could happen.
Let me be the first to say that I don't have a clue, I dont have all the answers
I'm not going to pretend like I do.
Indeed, when you strip this whole thing down to it's bare bones, you'll find that I'm probably more confused than most.
All the details just gliding discreetly over my head while I try to grapple with what I've managed to wrestle down.
So don't look at me and ask me what to do.
I don't know where we will go, what we will see, what will happen in a years time or even tomorrow.
Let's just hope there is something kind, out there, that will turn us towards what's good.
In the end, we're just trying to find our way out the best way we know how.
Well I haven't memorized all of the cute things to say, but I'm working on it.
This is an art form that I plan to master someday.
Just as communication is more complicated than any maths puzzle you can make.
Say something to me, anything.
Because, like you, it doesn't really matter now, what we say.
It's the voice being there that matters and we're all just as needy and lost as yesterday.
If I really just quoted famous lines off the top of my head.
Will you be happy, or will you understand every word I'm trying to say?
And in the end, we're just trying to find a way to voice all the things we already know anyway.
I haven't gotten it all figured out quite yet, but even if it takes my whole night, I'll get to the bottom of this.
And if I should fall asleep, then it'll still be alright.
Because I'll be one step closer to you and my dreams will carry my conscious into a place
Perhaps better for thinking than this distracting reality we're living
I'll figure out this somehow, and we'll still be trying to find our own way to each other.
Either way, we'll be together as long as we keep up those steps
- "Trying to Find My Way"
Lifehouse
While we all try to figure this out and hopefully come up with a compromise that will work out for all.
Honesty is a hard attribute to find, when we all want to seem like we've got everything figured out.
I won't kid myself into thinking that all is where it should be, for there is no such thing as the perfect situation.
I'm just too tired to try and find faults in something that only feels wrong.
But evidently I'm not the only one.
And it's at times like this that things either break or mend, with a little push.
When it's way past time that neither should, would, could happen.
Let me be the first to say that I don't have a clue, I dont have all the answers
I'm not going to pretend like I do.
Indeed, when you strip this whole thing down to it's bare bones, you'll find that I'm probably more confused than most.
All the details just gliding discreetly over my head while I try to grapple with what I've managed to wrestle down.
So don't look at me and ask me what to do.
I don't know where we will go, what we will see, what will happen in a years time or even tomorrow.
Let's just hope there is something kind, out there, that will turn us towards what's good.
In the end, we're just trying to find our way out the best way we know how.
Well I haven't memorized all of the cute things to say, but I'm working on it.
This is an art form that I plan to master someday.
Just as communication is more complicated than any maths puzzle you can make.
Say something to me, anything.
Because, like you, it doesn't really matter now, what we say.
It's the voice being there that matters and we're all just as needy and lost as yesterday.
If I really just quoted famous lines off the top of my head.
Will you be happy, or will you understand every word I'm trying to say?
And in the end, we're just trying to find a way to voice all the things we already know anyway.
I haven't gotten it all figured out quite yet, but even if it takes my whole night, I'll get to the bottom of this.
And if I should fall asleep, then it'll still be alright.
Because I'll be one step closer to you and my dreams will carry my conscious into a place
Perhaps better for thinking than this distracting reality we're living
I'll figure out this somehow, and we'll still be trying to find our own way to each other.
Either way, we'll be together as long as we keep up those steps
- "Trying to Find My Way"
Lifehouse
Saturday, February 13, 2010
A question to the sky...
When will you stop raining?
Goddamit. It's suppose to be dry season douche!
And at least make up your mind about whether you're gonna be sunny or raining. Not both.
Goddamit. It's suppose to be dry season douche!
And at least make up your mind about whether you're gonna be sunny or raining. Not both.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Fragmentation
I stepped from one heavy world into another as my feet took me away from the doorway.
Suddenly the bleary sun seems much too bright.
Medium clouds streaked paleing skies, and grey pavement sounded with footfall.
Marching on. Tired.
Not quite awake.
The summer heat had not quite settled into our eyes.
Lines were still sharp, stationary objects remained so.
But everything just seemed so far away, and reaching them seemed too much of an effort to make.
A horn blasted. Swish. Silence.
It felt lighter compared to the walls of the house, the strangling curtains, the heavy oak door, the muffling carpet and the subtle stares.
Cold war.
There was a crowd. A ringing phone. Then many.
People shuffled left and right, packed tightly into a gargantuan mass, and yet all utterly alone.
Awkward whispered permeated the air, people coughed, people avoided eye contact, people stared into ipods and phones.
Wouldn't be less awkward if people interacted in such a small space?
School girls in packs. Giggling.
The train comes, first in the grating squeal of the tracks, in a dull rumble, then in a rush of air.
The door rattles open and the people crowd around seeming eager.
No doubt it was the exact opposite of what they felt.
Still, it was a necessity to appear so.
A familiar face.
An unfamiliar situation.
Locked inside. Laughter. Dignity put temporarily aside and all forgotten.
A miscalculation that was right.
A wave. A smile.
Carry on.
Awkwardness and an attempt to look comfortable.
An introduction.
A stretch of silence.
Destination.
Once more, you willingly enter my domain.
Who said who belongs?
Who dictates.
Not I.
Lost.
I'm lost.
Looking for the lost.
Looking for fellow losts.
The losts morphed into founds and disappeared into the crowd.
Another familiar face, but this time, it would be wiser to run.
Another average day.
A disturbing continuation of the last.
Store of books, shelves, tiers, rows, aisles.
Work. Change of routine.
Not wanting to return home.
A reminiscence of days. And nights. And a frame of mind.
Never again will they haunt the living.
A confession, forgiveness, and despair.
Perhaps despair is not the right work.
Given up.
I despise everything numerical ... *teacher speaks, pauses, then chuckles*
I didnt expect that, he says.
I didnt either sir. I didnt either.
Just another day.
Suddenly the bleary sun seems much too bright.
Medium clouds streaked paleing skies, and grey pavement sounded with footfall.
Marching on. Tired.
Not quite awake.
The summer heat had not quite settled into our eyes.
Lines were still sharp, stationary objects remained so.
But everything just seemed so far away, and reaching them seemed too much of an effort to make.
A horn blasted. Swish. Silence.
It felt lighter compared to the walls of the house, the strangling curtains, the heavy oak door, the muffling carpet and the subtle stares.
Cold war.
There was a crowd. A ringing phone. Then many.
People shuffled left and right, packed tightly into a gargantuan mass, and yet all utterly alone.
Awkward whispered permeated the air, people coughed, people avoided eye contact, people stared into ipods and phones.
Wouldn't be less awkward if people interacted in such a small space?
School girls in packs. Giggling.
The train comes, first in the grating squeal of the tracks, in a dull rumble, then in a rush of air.
The door rattles open and the people crowd around seeming eager.
No doubt it was the exact opposite of what they felt.
Still, it was a necessity to appear so.
A familiar face.
An unfamiliar situation.
Locked inside. Laughter. Dignity put temporarily aside and all forgotten.
A miscalculation that was right.
A wave. A smile.
Carry on.
Awkwardness and an attempt to look comfortable.
An introduction.
A stretch of silence.
Destination.
Once more, you willingly enter my domain.
Who said who belongs?
Who dictates.
Not I.
Lost.
I'm lost.
Looking for the lost.
Looking for fellow losts.
The losts morphed into founds and disappeared into the crowd.
Another familiar face, but this time, it would be wiser to run.
Another average day.
A disturbing continuation of the last.
Store of books, shelves, tiers, rows, aisles.
Work. Change of routine.
Not wanting to return home.
A reminiscence of days. And nights. And a frame of mind.
Never again will they haunt the living.
A confession, forgiveness, and despair.
Perhaps despair is not the right work.
Given up.
I despise everything numerical ... *teacher speaks, pauses, then chuckles*
I didnt expect that, he says.
I didnt either sir. I didnt either.
Just another day.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Unexpectingly Overheard
"Love life, and life will love you back"Black hair.
Blue eyes.
Auther, reader.
Tall, strong.
Successful, rich.
Luke Hynes.
On this particular day, he'd found himself without any occupational disasters, good books, exciting movies or pretty women. The deadline for the release of his next book was as far away as he wished it to be, having just recently completely a novel (One Hundred Days; A Romance). A peek in between tightly drawn shutters revealed that some god had decided to bawl her eyes out today. Mr L. Hynes found it hard to sympathize. While he had been flitting from the TV, to the couch, to the kitchen, to the bar, reading a line of his newspaper, then flipping through the pages of a book he knew not the title of, the house shrunk in that suffocating, constricting, frustrating way until even the amount of paces from one wall to another seemed fewer than before and each breath seemed to suck less and less air in, in that small space that progressively grew smaller and smaller in ones mind. He flung himself out onto the veranda, and was promptly soaked to the skin. Pleasant day.
When he returned to the room, nothing had changed besides for the fact that a puddle of muddy water had begun to form where his pant legs met the floor. It was still too limiting for his taste. Disturbing the phone from where it had nestled into its cradle, he pressed a random speed dial. Instinct told him not to press number one. That was his editor. It was better to keep away from sleeping dragons. Number two was home. That was out as well. That left one in seven chances that it would his ex wife, one in three of the remaining chances it'd be one of this latest flings, half of the four buttons left were Sebastians home and mobile, and the remaining two were empty. Sebastian picked up on his mobile. He sounded stressed, no doubt from his hellish twins. God bless marriage.
A sharp swirl of black material (everyone wore black these days), the clunk of heavy boots and a pop of an umbrella was followed by the sound of a key turning a lock. Walking out of the driveway, he pulled out yet another set of keys and his car made an indignant squeak at being woken up on such a dreary day. The growled when it realized Mr Hynes intended to coax it from the warm garage into the muddy, sheeting rain. It wasn't a happy Mercedes right at that moment, not at all. As they wound down the clogged streets of central London, the unhappy Mercedes pondered upon why it was being mistreated so. Stuck in traffic, dirtying itself in spraying mud on the road, winding between battered Toyotas and a Ford or three hundred, and being left on the sidewalk crammed between a dozing 1980's and a motorbike smug in its rainproof covering. It was a Mercedes for heavens sake! Born to carry lavishly dressed women and smart tuxedo men to glittering hotels and left in pristine, spacious car parks. It sighed and promptly went back to sleep.
Meanwhile, Mr Hynes had been totally oblivious to the discontent of his car, being too buried in his own discontent. The cafe he arrived in was small, somewhat dimly lit and chilly. One could see the steam rising up from three coffee cups spread thinly throughout the room. One was perched happily beside an elderly gentleman, looking curiously on to his newspaper. One was contently cupped between the delicate, cold hands of a red nosed, cute looking art student, made obvious by her bright red hair and sketch book lying discarded on the table. Another squatted forlornly on the opposite side of the table to a dozing business man, who had no doubt forgotten all about his coffee in his sleep deprived stupor. It was to this man Mr Hynes greeted with a slap on the back. The man started awake, gazed dazedly at his life long friend then settled back into his seat with a grunt. He remembered his coffee, and chugged. He rubbed his eyes while Mr Hynes ordered a Caramel Latte, and managed to look somewhat energized by the time the waitress turned and sauntered back to the counter on her tethering heels. Both men stared, appreciating the way her skirt stretched tightly over her glutious maximus.
The conversation between the two men were of the kind that developed between two men who had no doubt been brother like in their childhood, mate like in their teenage years, friends in their college experience, and now held a sort of exasperation towards the total lack of interest in what the other party had to say. They stared at each other a bit, taking in the changes, every new facial crease, every new grey hair, every square centimeter of newly tanned skin and every buffed and polished finger nail. One complained about work, wife, kids and mortgage while the other one exalted clubs, money, cars and mansions. Interest in women was about the only thing those two had left in common with each other. The rest had been swept away by luck all those years ago. So it was to no ones great surprise when the conversation ultimately turned to love. Even there, the differences are evident.
Mr Hynes gazed at Sebastian, with his hands worn from changing nappies, his frame slumped from overwork and his eyes glittering with emotion for his family, and felt a pang of something he could not quite place. Even has Sebastian complained, a tired smile hovered on the edges of his expression. For though he wrote about love, exalted love, made love and recieved love on a regular basis, he'd hardly ever been in love. He was too busy with his career, then too busy enjoying his youth, then too busy funding his expensive habits... And whether he realised or not, he'd soon become too selfish to even consider giving everything he had for someone else's affections. He told Sebastian this, in a very different way of course, and said that he wished someone would just love him for him, not his money, his fame or his looks. He told Sebastian he wished someone would be straight forward with him, tell him his faults and tell him that it's alright to be imperfect. He said he wished someone would shout out to him that they loved him, all of him, even if he was impoverished, ugly and sexually incompetant. The two men stayed in that cafe till the streets outside grew quite, and only the artst-to-be remained in the deserted little shop. With a spoken promise to meet again, this time, at Mr Hyne's house, addresses were exchanged. The two men drove off in their seperate cars. Mercedes vs Mitsubishi. Mitsubishi won by taking the right turn. Mercedes sulked, and was ignored.
The next day, what sounded like the steady hissing of a steam engine woke Mr Hynes from a rather enjoyable dream. He winced as the harsh sunlight triumphantly defeated the receeding blinds and stung his eyes. A crowd had gathered at the foot of his three storey house, surrounding someone with red hair waving around what seemed to be a flashing placard. He dressed and tousled his hair in the mirror on the way out of the door. He froze, halfway between the outside and inside of his house, gaze fixed on a giant screen that flashed his life before his eyes.
L. Hynes + Lilien Harold = Love
Blink
L.H x 2, it's a Sign!
Blink
Sexual Incompetancy is Nothing!
Blink
I (heart) Your Weird Underwear!
Blink
The art student from yesterday gazed with wide, expectant eyes. The crowded alternated between "awwww"s and hysterical fits of laughing. A few old ladies looked scandalized. A few eager youngers snapped away with their cameras. As for said Mr L. Hynes? Well he took a step forward, rippled where he stood, then promptly passed out.
And no, those two never did end up getting married.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Day Break.
I guess I haven't written a personal blog for awhile, so here's one about my life so far.
Firstly, my first week as a senior was a bit, a lot, different to junior school.
I'm already buried in homework and reports and essays and tests and it's only the first week!
What happened to that breaking in period where everyone just lets their brain rot for awhile to get used to the fact they have to start grinding their way to a start?
The good old days...
Also, there have been some new members of ATOMS! But don't worry, we won't forget the people who left <3
Welcome: Alison, Bri, Grace and Vivi!
And I'm also confused. Has Elena joined scrandoms? Shes never there anymore.
I have a feeling, this year's gonna be a good year =]
So many exciting things!
Aaaaah, so something about today. Maths. I don't hate it so much now. I have talkative friends ha ha.
In the corridor, got barred then death glared by Elena.
I guess she's in a bad mood as always.
I swear I'm scared she'll run a javelin through my body.
CHEM! Report! Our experiment kinda died... was still wet T___T
er... then what. Oh yea, recess. Woah, so many kids in senior vocal.
I really shouldn't call them kids.
Most of them are taller than me.
Shame.
Learnt a lesson today.
If there's something to say, then there are two options.
One, be tactful and keep it to yourself. Two, say it to the person and watch their reaction with glee.
I guess theres a third option of just whispering it around the corners, but thats just so anticlimatic.
Bio report. Yup, another one.
And the CIA, the Soviet Union, and the anti Kennedy Americans all got together and killed the President.
All english teachers are cynics.
One last thing.
Elena, if you do ever take the time to read my blog, or someone please link her.
Please, at least have the courtesy to reply when your friend is calling out in concern to you on a train.
She is wasting enough time on you as it is.
But then, I guess that's just my opinion.
Bella.
Firstly, my first week as a senior was a bit, a lot, different to junior school.
I'm already buried in homework and reports and essays and tests and it's only the first week!
What happened to that breaking in period where everyone just lets their brain rot for awhile to get used to the fact they have to start grinding their way to a start?
The good old days...
Also, there have been some new members of ATOMS! But don't worry, we won't forget the people who left <3
Welcome: Alison, Bri, Grace and Vivi!
And I'm also confused. Has Elena joined scrandoms? Shes never there anymore.
I have a feeling, this year's gonna be a good year =]
So many exciting things!
Aaaaah, so something about today. Maths. I don't hate it so much now. I have talkative friends ha ha.
In the corridor, got barred then death glared by Elena.
I guess she's in a bad mood as always.
I swear I'm scared she'll run a javelin through my body.
CHEM! Report! Our experiment kinda died... was still wet T___T
er... then what. Oh yea, recess. Woah, so many kids in senior vocal.
I really shouldn't call them kids.
Most of them are taller than me.
Shame.
Learnt a lesson today.
If there's something to say, then there are two options.
One, be tactful and keep it to yourself. Two, say it to the person and watch their reaction with glee.
I guess theres a third option of just whispering it around the corners, but thats just so anticlimatic.
Bio report. Yup, another one.
And the CIA, the Soviet Union, and the anti Kennedy Americans all got together and killed the President.
All english teachers are cynics.
One last thing.
Elena, if you do ever take the time to read my blog, or someone please link her.
Please, at least have the courtesy to reply when your friend is calling out in concern to you on a train.
She is wasting enough time on you as it is.
But then, I guess that's just my opinion.
Bella.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Highlights '09
And you've got a smile that can light up this whole town...
English with shorty. steph, lauren, sab, me. good times
There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea...
Year 10 vocal, group love.
Cuz you and me, were meant to be, walking free, in harmony...
Scram '09. we are unbiased
We'll stand together, for one night, and this evening, we'll be heard...
Rice. What a night.
Candy coated prison bars, and chains of popcorn and jewelry...
French Rev. Ahhhh....
Don't stop the music, wooaaaah, let the notes strike down our broken hearts...
Remember raving on marble tables? Karaoke ftw <3
First night, this is our first time, the chance of a lifetime to show the world...
NSB/G benefit concert, our first.
Let's escape into the unknown, do things we've never done before...
Spur of moment decision to punch holes in my ears.
Washed away by the never ending waves, let love gather like sand on the shore...
Cronulla. Purple rice love.
Cuz we'll be friends forever, friends forever...
"that's not a group, thats a GANG" bday love.
Cuz you'll be in my heart, yes you'll be in my heart...
Crashing ruse to find Anna and Marilyn, never forgotten <3
Dazzling lights spread out below in the city night...
Opera house, pancake on the rocks.
Sea of black, Walls of glittering stars, and notes...
Gala concert. Wasn't that fun.
We sing for you...
Charities. Scrubbing cars. GG
When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a staaar...
Trying to get on sunrise. LOL
We wish you a merry xmas, we WISH you a merry xmas
Aaaah, red hats and black, in north sydney.
I got a feelin, that tonight's gonna be a good night...
Sea of Black with suspended colors, gorgeous girls at our first ever formal!
Cuz we're young and we're free and we're not afraid of anything
BEAAAAAAACH!! MEAAAAAAAT!!!
Colours in the sky will light up our lives tonight...
End our year with a BANG of fireworks =D
English with shorty. steph, lauren, sab, me. good times
There used to be a greying tower alone on the sea...
Year 10 vocal, group love.
Cuz you and me, were meant to be, walking free, in harmony...
Scram '09. we are unbiased
We'll stand together, for one night, and this evening, we'll be heard...
Rice. What a night.
Candy coated prison bars, and chains of popcorn and jewelry...
French Rev. Ahhhh....
Don't stop the music, wooaaaah, let the notes strike down our broken hearts...
Remember raving on marble tables? Karaoke ftw <3
First night, this is our first time, the chance of a lifetime to show the world...
NSB/G benefit concert, our first.
Let's escape into the unknown, do things we've never done before...
Spur of moment decision to punch holes in my ears.
Washed away by the never ending waves, let love gather like sand on the shore...
Cronulla. Purple rice love.
Cuz we'll be friends forever, friends forever...
"that's not a group, thats a GANG" bday love.
Cuz you'll be in my heart, yes you'll be in my heart...
Crashing ruse to find Anna and Marilyn, never forgotten <3
Dazzling lights spread out below in the city night...
Opera house, pancake on the rocks.
Sea of black, Walls of glittering stars, and notes...
Gala concert. Wasn't that fun.
We sing for you...
Charities. Scrubbing cars. GG
When I grow up, I wanna be famous, I wanna be a staaar...
Trying to get on sunrise. LOL
We wish you a merry xmas, we WISH you a merry xmas
Aaaah, red hats and black, in north sydney.
I got a feelin, that tonight's gonna be a good night...
Sea of Black with suspended colors, gorgeous girls at our first ever formal!
Cuz we're young and we're free and we're not afraid of anything
BEAAAAAAACH!! MEAAAAAAAT!!!
Colours in the sky will light up our lives tonight...
End our year with a BANG of fireworks =D
Monday, January 25, 2010
Flag under the Battlements
I wasn’t cut out to be a soldier and that was that. Plated armor adorned my leather tunic, it felt heavy and immobile. The long spear, almost three quarters my own height and designed to splinter wooden shields effortlessly, felt cumbersome in stead of the normal short spear balanced in my grasp. Elskier frisked nervously beside me, blowing his lips, flicking his tail and trotting on the spot. The grey stallion was as nervous in a large crowd as I.
The square was the biggest in the city. The city was the largest in Fahier. It was full. A dozen bright colored banners flapped listlessly in the gentle wind, baring the symbols of their respective Legions. Alfaler’s nobleman and troops bore an eagle in flight upon a red banner, wisdom and foresight. The house of Lord Berez and his squadron waved a white banner with golden doves trimmed in green. Messengers of the royal house. Hunder’s men bore blue flags and cloaks, imprinted with golden ivy leaves, the advisors. A handful more banners were familiar to me, but I could not identify their houses. The rest I had not seen before.
All twelve noble houses and their armed forces have gathered here. I was among them as an employee of Lord Berez. A rare friend, for whom I had worked with in the infancy of my employment, smiled at the uneasiness that oozed from my posture. A pat on the shoulder gave me some reassurance, but not much. I had come to advise, infiltrate, steal maybe, and certainly explore, but never to go to war. No one offered any word of comfort, should it bring bad luck on the battlefield.
“Jiar!”
I wrenched my body around, but not in time to brace against a brightly colored bundle hurtling itself into my arms. The brown black locks of her hair waved freeing behind her. I could not feel the warmth of her embrace through the thick armor.
“Mariem”
It wasn’t uttered as a question. Her bright clothes, blue skirts, pale yellow bodice, lavender shawl, were comparable only to the banners dotting the field of men. Most of the other women that have come to farewell their sons, husbands, brothers, lovers or friends chose mourning dress in dull grays and morose blacks. Many will never see again those that they have come to farewell.
Nevertheless, the bubble of excitement still buried deeply in my armor was determined to fill our last moments together in speculation of the bright future. I was going to find the treasures long lost in an old city ruin, but not before slaying a hundred enemies. I was going to come back glorified in her fathers name and my victories, held in the highest regard by the king himself! But to me, none of that mattered, and contented myself in burying my face into her hair that smelt of floral bath oils. She was still babbling into my shoulder. Mariem, anything for you.
The horn blew, resounding in deep, reverberating bellows, once, then twice. I peeled her away from my, reluctantly, then turned to mount. People all around me followed suit. It was time to go. With a great cheer uncharacteristic of the fallen faces all around us, the trumpets were raises. The banners were hoisted; they now flew in the wind. The ranks fell into line. Two by two, the front line infantry began to filter out of the square, down the straight road running from square to city wall, and out the heavily fortified gates. Then the cavalry followed. Time to go. With another glance back, I saw Mariem had retreated with the crowd, parting to allow the ranks to pass. The rows in front of me began to shift. She threw me a grin. Looking forwards, I edged Elskier on. A disembodied voice floats through my mind, my English tutor’s, breathing famous words into my ear.
“Come, let us ride”
The square was the biggest in the city. The city was the largest in Fahier. It was full. A dozen bright colored banners flapped listlessly in the gentle wind, baring the symbols of their respective Legions. Alfaler’s nobleman and troops bore an eagle in flight upon a red banner, wisdom and foresight. The house of Lord Berez and his squadron waved a white banner with golden doves trimmed in green. Messengers of the royal house. Hunder’s men bore blue flags and cloaks, imprinted with golden ivy leaves, the advisors. A handful more banners were familiar to me, but I could not identify their houses. The rest I had not seen before.
All twelve noble houses and their armed forces have gathered here. I was among them as an employee of Lord Berez. A rare friend, for whom I had worked with in the infancy of my employment, smiled at the uneasiness that oozed from my posture. A pat on the shoulder gave me some reassurance, but not much. I had come to advise, infiltrate, steal maybe, and certainly explore, but never to go to war. No one offered any word of comfort, should it bring bad luck on the battlefield.
“Jiar!”
I wrenched my body around, but not in time to brace against a brightly colored bundle hurtling itself into my arms. The brown black locks of her hair waved freeing behind her. I could not feel the warmth of her embrace through the thick armor.
“Mariem”
It wasn’t uttered as a question. Her bright clothes, blue skirts, pale yellow bodice, lavender shawl, were comparable only to the banners dotting the field of men. Most of the other women that have come to farewell their sons, husbands, brothers, lovers or friends chose mourning dress in dull grays and morose blacks. Many will never see again those that they have come to farewell.
Nevertheless, the bubble of excitement still buried deeply in my armor was determined to fill our last moments together in speculation of the bright future. I was going to find the treasures long lost in an old city ruin, but not before slaying a hundred enemies. I was going to come back glorified in her fathers name and my victories, held in the highest regard by the king himself! But to me, none of that mattered, and contented myself in burying my face into her hair that smelt of floral bath oils. She was still babbling into my shoulder. Mariem, anything for you.
The horn blew, resounding in deep, reverberating bellows, once, then twice. I peeled her away from my, reluctantly, then turned to mount. People all around me followed suit. It was time to go. With a great cheer uncharacteristic of the fallen faces all around us, the trumpets were raises. The banners were hoisted; they now flew in the wind. The ranks fell into line. Two by two, the front line infantry began to filter out of the square, down the straight road running from square to city wall, and out the heavily fortified gates. Then the cavalry followed. Time to go. With another glance back, I saw Mariem had retreated with the crowd, parting to allow the ranks to pass. The rows in front of me began to shift. She threw me a grin. Looking forwards, I edged Elskier on. A disembodied voice floats through my mind, my English tutor’s, breathing famous words into my ear.
“Come, let us ride”
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Sweet, sensual, hot, calm, loud, warming, happy, (refle)|(ctive), illogical, rAnDOm, irreplaceable, long, short, PARADoxical, cool, languid days…
Mysterious, adventurOUS, dark, warm, exposed, WELcoming, beckoning, Emotional, simple, charming, humid nights…
Sun, sea, sand, stars, wind, palms, heat, trees, bees, Noon, clouds, LOVE, friends…
Water, bonfires, swimming, Laughter, sunset, sunrise, crickets, forests, meetings…
Cloud gazing, hanging out, bum in the park, water fights, sleepover, barbecue with friends, going on walks, admiring the view, travelling overseas, making everlasting memories…
While we laze on the beach, watching the evening sun paint the sea gold, with the foaming waves lapping at our feet, the wind swaying the palms and our friends splashing in the water, with a chilled coke in one hand, and the other caged in the one we love, we think…
Sweet Summer
Mysterious, adventurOUS, dark, warm, exposed, WELcoming, beckoning, Emotional, simple, charming, humid nights…
Sun, sea, sand, stars, wind, palms, heat, trees, bees, Noon, clouds, LOVE, friends…
Water, bonfires, swimming, Laughter, sunset, sunrise, crickets, forests, meetings…
Cloud gazing, hanging out, bum in the park, water fights, sleepover, barbecue with friends, going on walks, admiring the view, travelling overseas, making everlasting memories…
While we laze on the beach, watching the evening sun paint the sea gold, with the foaming waves lapping at our feet, the wind swaying the palms and our friends splashing in the water, with a chilled coke in one hand, and the other caged in the one we love, we think…
Sweet Summer
Monday, January 18, 2010
Dont Judge Too Quickly
The world is supposed to run on love.
Just count the number of books that are written about love.
Romantic love.
But then you’d be counting for the rest of your life.
Walk into a music store, and stare at the various tracks suspended on the walls.
How many aren’t about a broken heart
Or a newly found one
Or one that’s burning with passion
Or freezing with cold
And in the end, it’s still about love.
The greatest myths, the oldest, are ultimately tied with love.
This god fell in love with that, bringing disaster upon the world
Bringing winter upon the earth in Greece
And make the sparrows of the world build a bridge
Every New Year
With their own bodies
For love.
For a love they probably don’t even understand
And you know your best friend over there?
The one that'd always around in the dead of night
Sorry to tell you that no,
She doesn't really think you're that interesting
And she doesn't talk to you
Because she just likes listening to your problems
She think's she's in love
No, she doesn't know why
Next time, when you talk to her
Keep this in mind,
That one day, the day she does pluck up the courage
To confess like they do in the movies
At what she thinks is the perfect time
You'll first be shocked, then confused, then
You wouldn't really know what to say
Because you're raised to think that love is a good thing
When it really just gets in the way
You might as well say goodbye to her first now
Save yourself the tears
Poets verse about love,
Their despair inspiring the tears of others
And critics rate it as ‘tragic beauty’
Pass them on to the younger generation
Brainwashing them into appreciating
The pain these poets enjoyed
Who doesn’t know about Romeo and Juliet?
How many less would know
If they had a happily ever after
Or just ended up getting
A divorce.
Some people say it's the best feeling in the world
Their friends would nod their heads and agree
Thinking of the time that they thought that way
Before love stripped them of their naivety
Who's to blame?
The countless hollywood movies
Where the guy always ends up with the right girl
Or else heroically dies trying
Sorry to burst your bubble,
But life is almost always a disappointment in that region
More than likely you'll end up on a friends couch
Sobbing out your heart out till next season
Even now, my library on Itunes
Is singing about how love brought him to life?
Sorry mate, didn’t want break it to you
But it wasn’t really love
Your mother drank too much
And your father was a little tipsy that night
The rest was history
I’d rather not repeat.
With us as we are
This is the only world we know
We cry over it, we laugh over it
Ultimately, we’ll just get sick of it
Some just skip to the sick stage
Much faster than anyone else
And I happen to be in that category
As you, my dear readers,
Would’ve probably guessed.
Good night. Good luck
And I will not say I love you all
But here is a bit more food for thought.
Isn’t hate just much of a more
Exciting emotion?
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Greatest Treasure
Day 1
Last night, my house had been broken into. My house is impossible to break into. The gates had been locked at eight pm, just like every other night. Watch dogs patrol the expansive grounds restlessly. Trip wires and cameras are set all around the house. He had managed to bypass all of these, to arrive at the balcony to my house, unlock it, avoid all of the pressure sensors around the doorway and came in. Why go to all that trouble… and not even steal anything?
My father had his fair share of priceless things. As an avid collector of anything and everything, this mansion was more a vault than anything. Endlessly paranoid, our security system had given the family more than their fair share of trouble. Like that time I was climbing a tree, and had set off one of the trip wires, ending up with screaming alarms all over the house, security swarming over to my location, only to see me clamping my hands over my ears in a tree. We were very much kept at bay by the system as any outsiders were. No one was hardheaded enough to try and rob the Lister family. But last night, someone had the nerve to take a tour of the house, uninvited.
This morning, everyone just went about their business as usual. Father rose as usual at six thirty, the live in maid having already prepared a fresh pot of hot coffee, the aroma permeating the air and drifting lazily towards my room. Father’s deep voice had disturbed me from my uneasy slumber as I woke with a start. Mothers gentle voice sung through the air, as she gently hummed a tune whilst frying a traditional breakfast. The culinary revolution sweeping through the UK had not yet touched this family. Jamie Oliver was a stranger to her. My brother was no doubt still snoring in bed. Primary school students did not have to attend classes until 8:30, and he milked this to his full advantage. Everything seemed normal. I hoped what I saw was just a dream, just a bad dream. My hopes were shattered when the glitter of the kitchen knife wedged between my mattress and the bedside table caught my eye in the morning sun. I didn’t usually sleep with knives, only yesterday. I felt drained, and it was only morning.
“Heya”
I turned to see two girls, one tall, with long flowing hair, and the other, shorter, in bouncy pigtails, trotting to catch up with me. My shoulders relaxed, but who was I expecting to see, the robber from last night? Well he wasn’t technically a robber. He didn’t steal anything. The intruder then, that will do nicely. They finally caught up.
We were walking to school, like we did every other morning. The weather was average, cloudy, gloomy and slightly chilly. Our skirts clung to us in front as we walked against the wind, and then billowed out like sails as the wind changed direction. We kept one hand on our straw hats, redundant in this weather. But rules were rules. We passed the same shops. There was a café with business men sitting by themselves at small, round, metallic tables meant for two, buried into their news papers. Then, we passed the newsagent, with people bustling in and out with papers. Some sort of office followed, with glass paneled walls and burly security standing beside the neat woman behind the marbled reception. A tall vase of withering flowers stood at the corner. Past that, there was a small alleyway, and then a small posh restaurant with an unpronounceable French name. Clarence street junction. We crossed with the tens of other business people in black, always black, carrying square suitcases that were probably heavier than what they carried by far. Normal, normal, normal.
An out-of-place candy heaven, a toy store, a MacDonald’s and around ten minutes later, we arrived at the iron wrought gate marking private property of my high school just as it was about to swing shut. Students were already milling into the dark brick buildings, reluctant to be late to class. Such action was not an expression of studious habits, but rather a way to avoid harsh punishment. We joined the throng, and let ourselves be swept away into the river, joining the current and occasionally shoving this way and that to alter our course. It was just like every other day.
As the history teacher droned his way through another chapter in the textbook that we had all read an hour ago, I let my mind drift to last night again. I had been a light sleeper ever since I had started high school. I had very good hearing. Even then, it was just pure chance that I happened to have been awake at the exact moment he chose to enter through the balcony. The door had squeaked minutely. I heard, but thought naught of it. Not even a mosquito could enter the house if they hadn’t been invited. My brother must’ve been inviting mosquitoes into my room. I lay in bed, gazing at the blank ceiling, trying to congeal an image from the millions of dots that floated freely before my eyes, with no such luck. Then I heard something brush against my door. Stiffening, I slowly closed my eyes, leaving a crack, turned to my side, and watched behind thick lashes as my door eased open…
He was not conventionally handsome. Those eyes were set a bit too deep, the brows a bit too thick, the nose a bit too aristocratic and the jaw a bit too strong. Thick curly tresses drooped over a high forehead, sparkling eyes glinted with mischief. He was… striking. He looked too young to have the amount of quiet confidence only someone in their middle decades had. He looked old enough not to be brash, and walked with silent grace. His footsteps made no sound as the door swung open and he entered the door frame. His lips contorted into a grimacing smile, but there was no evil in that expression. His dark cloak hid everything but heavy boots. Heavy boots that made no sound? Him, him, him…intruder. The vase room had been to the left of the corridor, the way he had left, so why were the precious gold vases not taken? A thief with any ounce of common sense would’ve seen that they were worth more than a few pounds. But no, everything was perfectly in place, not a single smug of dirt on the carpets suggested anyone had trod upon them from when everyone had retired to their beds to this morning… what was he after then? My family? But everyone seemed fine…
“MISS Lister, I insist you share with us your opinion on who murdered JFK”
My teacher was staring at me with warning in his gaze.
“What? The intruder?”
The class collectively lifted their eyebrows. I mentally sighed. Let’s see how I can bullshit myself out of this one.
Just another typical day really.
AN// should I continue the story =O
Last night, my house had been broken into. My house is impossible to break into. The gates had been locked at eight pm, just like every other night. Watch dogs patrol the expansive grounds restlessly. Trip wires and cameras are set all around the house. He had managed to bypass all of these, to arrive at the balcony to my house, unlock it, avoid all of the pressure sensors around the doorway and came in. Why go to all that trouble… and not even steal anything?
My father had his fair share of priceless things. As an avid collector of anything and everything, this mansion was more a vault than anything. Endlessly paranoid, our security system had given the family more than their fair share of trouble. Like that time I was climbing a tree, and had set off one of the trip wires, ending up with screaming alarms all over the house, security swarming over to my location, only to see me clamping my hands over my ears in a tree. We were very much kept at bay by the system as any outsiders were. No one was hardheaded enough to try and rob the Lister family. But last night, someone had the nerve to take a tour of the house, uninvited.
This morning, everyone just went about their business as usual. Father rose as usual at six thirty, the live in maid having already prepared a fresh pot of hot coffee, the aroma permeating the air and drifting lazily towards my room. Father’s deep voice had disturbed me from my uneasy slumber as I woke with a start. Mothers gentle voice sung through the air, as she gently hummed a tune whilst frying a traditional breakfast. The culinary revolution sweeping through the UK had not yet touched this family. Jamie Oliver was a stranger to her. My brother was no doubt still snoring in bed. Primary school students did not have to attend classes until 8:30, and he milked this to his full advantage. Everything seemed normal. I hoped what I saw was just a dream, just a bad dream. My hopes were shattered when the glitter of the kitchen knife wedged between my mattress and the bedside table caught my eye in the morning sun. I didn’t usually sleep with knives, only yesterday. I felt drained, and it was only morning.
*****
“Heya”
I turned to see two girls, one tall, with long flowing hair, and the other, shorter, in bouncy pigtails, trotting to catch up with me. My shoulders relaxed, but who was I expecting to see, the robber from last night? Well he wasn’t technically a robber. He didn’t steal anything. The intruder then, that will do nicely. They finally caught up.
We were walking to school, like we did every other morning. The weather was average, cloudy, gloomy and slightly chilly. Our skirts clung to us in front as we walked against the wind, and then billowed out like sails as the wind changed direction. We kept one hand on our straw hats, redundant in this weather. But rules were rules. We passed the same shops. There was a café with business men sitting by themselves at small, round, metallic tables meant for two, buried into their news papers. Then, we passed the newsagent, with people bustling in and out with papers. Some sort of office followed, with glass paneled walls and burly security standing beside the neat woman behind the marbled reception. A tall vase of withering flowers stood at the corner. Past that, there was a small alleyway, and then a small posh restaurant with an unpronounceable French name. Clarence street junction. We crossed with the tens of other business people in black, always black, carrying square suitcases that were probably heavier than what they carried by far. Normal, normal, normal.
An out-of-place candy heaven, a toy store, a MacDonald’s and around ten minutes later, we arrived at the iron wrought gate marking private property of my high school just as it was about to swing shut. Students were already milling into the dark brick buildings, reluctant to be late to class. Such action was not an expression of studious habits, but rather a way to avoid harsh punishment. We joined the throng, and let ourselves be swept away into the river, joining the current and occasionally shoving this way and that to alter our course. It was just like every other day.
*****
As the history teacher droned his way through another chapter in the textbook that we had all read an hour ago, I let my mind drift to last night again. I had been a light sleeper ever since I had started high school. I had very good hearing. Even then, it was just pure chance that I happened to have been awake at the exact moment he chose to enter through the balcony. The door had squeaked minutely. I heard, but thought naught of it. Not even a mosquito could enter the house if they hadn’t been invited. My brother must’ve been inviting mosquitoes into my room. I lay in bed, gazing at the blank ceiling, trying to congeal an image from the millions of dots that floated freely before my eyes, with no such luck. Then I heard something brush against my door. Stiffening, I slowly closed my eyes, leaving a crack, turned to my side, and watched behind thick lashes as my door eased open…
He was not conventionally handsome. Those eyes were set a bit too deep, the brows a bit too thick, the nose a bit too aristocratic and the jaw a bit too strong. Thick curly tresses drooped over a high forehead, sparkling eyes glinted with mischief. He was… striking. He looked too young to have the amount of quiet confidence only someone in their middle decades had. He looked old enough not to be brash, and walked with silent grace. His footsteps made no sound as the door swung open and he entered the door frame. His lips contorted into a grimacing smile, but there was no evil in that expression. His dark cloak hid everything but heavy boots. Heavy boots that made no sound? Him, him, him…intruder. The vase room had been to the left of the corridor, the way he had left, so why were the precious gold vases not taken? A thief with any ounce of common sense would’ve seen that they were worth more than a few pounds. But no, everything was perfectly in place, not a single smug of dirt on the carpets suggested anyone had trod upon them from when everyone had retired to their beds to this morning… what was he after then? My family? But everyone seemed fine…
“MISS Lister, I insist you share with us your opinion on who murdered JFK”
My teacher was staring at me with warning in his gaze.
“What? The intruder?”
The class collectively lifted their eyebrows. I mentally sighed. Let’s see how I can bullshit myself out of this one.
Just another typical day really.
*****
AN// should I continue the story =O
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