In the mist of the crowd i sit,
dubious to all that speaks,
gentle words,
hearty laughter,
thou shall wait till the heart is drained,
deprived of love,
denied to love,
till the sun rises,
with the morning mist,
thou shall wish,
thou shall wait
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
More Thoughts from a bus ride
Walking thru the blinding darkness,
i quicken my pace at the far sight of light,
rushing boundlessly towards that faint sparkle of hope,
and as i dashed towards that welcoming opening from this cave that i had been trapped in,
i was sent flying backwards as i crashed onto that spotlessly clear glass door that separate the darkness from the light.
Like a bad joke,
i had been locked out from the mesmerizing sights of green pastures, lively villages and happy voices,
and like a pole fixed on the solid ground,
i stood there motionlessly,
waiting for an angel with a key,
a beautiful village girl with a happy voice.
I pressed the bell on the limestone walls but no one answers.
I cried and screamed out loud but there were only echoes...
and a chilling silence that follows.
i quicken my pace at the far sight of light,
rushing boundlessly towards that faint sparkle of hope,
and as i dashed towards that welcoming opening from this cave that i had been trapped in,
i was sent flying backwards as i crashed onto that spotlessly clear glass door that separate the darkness from the light.
Like a bad joke,
i had been locked out from the mesmerizing sights of green pastures, lively villages and happy voices,
and like a pole fixed on the solid ground,
i stood there motionlessly,
waiting for an angel with a key,
a beautiful village girl with a happy voice.
I pressed the bell on the limestone walls but no one answers.
I cried and screamed out loud but there were only echoes...
and a chilling silence that follows.
Monday, October 15, 2007
an irony of love
in the many phrases and instances that we pass through in life,
life seems to have less of the sweet promises,
cornering me only to retreat and fall back into the world of dreams.
If dreams are truly the opposite of reality,
i would throw myself boundlessly into the front,
and plunge heads-on towards the world of dreams,
for its there where everything is like what it should be,
or what i hope to be.
As the countless many are laughing,
they had not realised that life itself could be a joke,
that even though life could bring the sweetest memories like jam on one side of a sandwich bread,
you could end up on the other side, white, plain, empty and bare.
Why is it so tough,
when all one wants is to love and to be loved,
and yet time and time again,
as if trapped in a giant loaf,
all he sees is an endless stream of white, plain, empty and bare sandwich bread.
Like a mixed bag of emotions, i long to see her, for it sets my heart fluttering
and yet, i long not to see her, for every goodbye sends a piercing ache, an unbearable feeling that never fails to hurt more than the previous one.
Is it really so simple to love someone?
Is it really so tough to love someone?
As these constant thoughts flood the corners of my head, i find myself wanting to do nothing more, but to lay down on this cold lonely bed, accompanied only by the sound of silence, the absence of love and the power of dreams.
bonne nuit. je t'aime ma cherie, in life and in dreams.
life seems to have less of the sweet promises,
cornering me only to retreat and fall back into the world of dreams.
If dreams are truly the opposite of reality,
i would throw myself boundlessly into the front,
and plunge heads-on towards the world of dreams,
for its there where everything is like what it should be,
or what i hope to be.
As the countless many are laughing,
they had not realised that life itself could be a joke,
that even though life could bring the sweetest memories like jam on one side of a sandwich bread,
you could end up on the other side, white, plain, empty and bare.
Why is it so tough,
when all one wants is to love and to be loved,
and yet time and time again,
as if trapped in a giant loaf,
all he sees is an endless stream of white, plain, empty and bare sandwich bread.
Like a mixed bag of emotions, i long to see her, for it sets my heart fluttering
and yet, i long not to see her, for every goodbye sends a piercing ache, an unbearable feeling that never fails to hurt more than the previous one.
Is it really so simple to love someone?
Is it really so tough to love someone?
As these constant thoughts flood the corners of my head, i find myself wanting to do nothing more, but to lay down on this cold lonely bed, accompanied only by the sound of silence, the absence of love and the power of dreams.
bonne nuit. je t'aime ma cherie, in life and in dreams.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Thoughts from a bus ride
On the bus ride home, these thoughts keep flooding into my head and thus, i had penned them down...
looking out at the blurry glass windows,
as the tiny raindrops fall onto the tarmac road like bees to honey,
a familiar sense of loneliness envelopes his heart,
as he finds himself in that usual void of emptiness,
and laughs sorrowly at his pathetic self,
a man as useless as a plumber facing a stove,
with no absolute idea how to move ahead,
or stay behind,
like a crippled tiger faced with two hunters on either side.
Closing his weary eyes,
a faint smile forms along his pale lifeless lips,
leaving it all to fate,
fate - the sign of betrayal,
and yet ironically,
as a friend or a foe,
he finds only fate standing before him,
to the heavens or hell,
he shall not choose nor seek out for,
but to just leave his hands to it,
and resign to its fateful plans.
looking out at the blurry glass windows,
as the tiny raindrops fall onto the tarmac road like bees to honey,
a familiar sense of loneliness envelopes his heart,
as he finds himself in that usual void of emptiness,
and laughs sorrowly at his pathetic self,
a man as useless as a plumber facing a stove,
with no absolute idea how to move ahead,
or stay behind,
like a crippled tiger faced with two hunters on either side.
Closing his weary eyes,
a faint smile forms along his pale lifeless lips,
leaving it all to fate,
fate - the sign of betrayal,
and yet ironically,
as a friend or a foe,
he finds only fate standing before him,
to the heavens or hell,
he shall not choose nor seek out for,
but to just leave his hands to it,
and resign to its fateful plans.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
opposite attracts
Like a helpless child being sucked into the epicentre of a hurrying typhoon,
i find myself falling hopelessly in love with a girl.
stirring juvenile-like feelings of a first love,
she sends my heart fluttering,
and the head spinning wildly,
filling it with endless thoughts of her,
like a old film projector going on and on.
Do opposite attracts?
if i was like a snow flake in the arctic sea,
she was like a splendid breeze on a summer's day.
if i was like a sleepy old town,
she was like a buzzy village square.
Like two sides of a coin,
she is blubby, vocal, sweet, caring, strong, lovely and lovely.
and yet, always showing only one side of the coin,
she rarely shows the sentimental, emotional and saddened side of the coin.
During my short trip to ipoh on the weekend,
i find myself helplessly thinking of her,
longing for her by my side,
as the loneliness grips the suffocating heart,
and eats into the already thin feeble soul of mine,
sending uncontrollable tears of despair through those weary eyes
wishing if only lady luck changes her mind,
and place her gently into my hopeful arms.
and yet,
as predictable as the seasons of spring, summer, autumn and winter,
what i hope to be was not to be.
for her heart had, is and will still be with that lucky someone else.
and like a falling snowflake sinking into the icy snowbed,
i can only look up to see her sun and his moon in unison,
as she lays in his embrace,
him showering her with the sunlighting rays of his love.
i find myself falling hopelessly in love with a girl.
stirring juvenile-like feelings of a first love,
she sends my heart fluttering,
and the head spinning wildly,
filling it with endless thoughts of her,
like a old film projector going on and on.
Do opposite attracts?
if i was like a snow flake in the arctic sea,
she was like a splendid breeze on a summer's day.
if i was like a sleepy old town,
she was like a buzzy village square.
Like two sides of a coin,
she is blubby, vocal, sweet, caring, strong, lovely and lovely.
and yet, always showing only one side of the coin,
she rarely shows the sentimental, emotional and saddened side of the coin.
During my short trip to ipoh on the weekend,
i find myself helplessly thinking of her,
longing for her by my side,
as the loneliness grips the suffocating heart,
and eats into the already thin feeble soul of mine,
sending uncontrollable tears of despair through those weary eyes
wishing if only lady luck changes her mind,
and place her gently into my hopeful arms.
and yet,
as predictable as the seasons of spring, summer, autumn and winter,
what i hope to be was not to be.
for her heart had, is and will still be with that lucky someone else.
and like a falling snowflake sinking into the icy snowbed,
i can only look up to see her sun and his moon in unison,
as she lays in his embrace,
him showering her with the sunlighting rays of his love.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The croak of a lonely bullfrog
The night falls into its darkest hour,
as the moon shys into the billowing clouds,
the night sky lit only by the faint speckles of the stars,
like a thousand children lighting matches from a thousand miles away,
enveloped by the chorus of joyfulness and adolescence in their voices,
singing and dancing in the burning flames,
like a circle of bonfires in the village square,
and yet,
as if isolated by the border between joy and solitude,
i found that familiar me in the wrong side of town,
a thousand miles away from that village square,
that was filled with voices from the children of the night.
As i lay alone on my bed,
wanting to end the mundanity of the day,
as i seek the embrace of a fresh tomorrow,
the start of a brand new day,
that always promises sweeter promises,
and yet as the night crepts by like a whale without its fins,
as the mind hovers over the waves of mindlessness,
as the frustration inside brews maturely into anger,
the excruciating anguish soon turns to sorrow,
the sorrowful longing of a familiar companion,
the tender act of hugging her,
of giving her a backrub,
and of coaxing her to sleep,
simple acts of love,
denied by fate.
Having been fortunate to have had spent a many years with the luxury of someone i love sleeping beside me every night, that loathsome feeling of being alone in the dark do seems terribly unbearable at times. Even with the emotional healing of time and the valiant effort to move on in life, that solitudinous feeling does tend to grab your heart with its cold bare hands, squeezing its vigor out from your soul, sending you flinching with despair.
yet, as Time stares callously at me,
like a thousand frozen spikes raining on the helpless,
the pain of lonesomeness eventually numbed all trains of thoughts,
as the lights extinguishes instantly in that empty railway station,
with me renouncing helplessly into a slumber of sleep,
accompanied only by the croak of a lonely bullfrog.
as the moon shys into the billowing clouds,
the night sky lit only by the faint speckles of the stars,
like a thousand children lighting matches from a thousand miles away,
enveloped by the chorus of joyfulness and adolescence in their voices,
singing and dancing in the burning flames,
like a circle of bonfires in the village square,
and yet,
as if isolated by the border between joy and solitude,
i found that familiar me in the wrong side of town,
a thousand miles away from that village square,
that was filled with voices from the children of the night.
As i lay alone on my bed,
wanting to end the mundanity of the day,
as i seek the embrace of a fresh tomorrow,
the start of a brand new day,
that always promises sweeter promises,
and yet as the night crepts by like a whale without its fins,
as the mind hovers over the waves of mindlessness,
as the frustration inside brews maturely into anger,
the excruciating anguish soon turns to sorrow,
the sorrowful longing of a familiar companion,
the tender act of hugging her,
of giving her a backrub,
and of coaxing her to sleep,
simple acts of love,
denied by fate.
Having been fortunate to have had spent a many years with the luxury of someone i love sleeping beside me every night, that loathsome feeling of being alone in the dark do seems terribly unbearable at times. Even with the emotional healing of time and the valiant effort to move on in life, that solitudinous feeling does tend to grab your heart with its cold bare hands, squeezing its vigor out from your soul, sending you flinching with despair.
yet, as Time stares callously at me,
like a thousand frozen spikes raining on the helpless,
the pain of lonesomeness eventually numbed all trains of thoughts,
as the lights extinguishes instantly in that empty railway station,
with me renouncing helplessly into a slumber of sleep,
accompanied only by the croak of a lonely bullfrog.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
just go straight
Like a gentle breeze that sweeps past the blooming evergreens,
as the morning sun embraces the break of a new beginning,
announcing the end of the cold harsh winter,
and the welcoming whispers of a summer's renaissance.
As the frozen river bed melts away at the winter's end,
sinking into the deeper depths,
shying away from the warm summer rays,
as the morning sun breaks through that vivid horizon,
the solitudinal line from a distance,
that separates the days from the nights,
the living from the death,
and the new from the old.
A single croak echoes in the cloudless skies,
coloured by a splash of orange and red,
with a clouded blanket of morning mist,
disguising the escapade of its nightly guests,
the shiny crescent moon and its colony of stars.
As i find myself with a new source of strength to lift myself off my feet and take a step, and another, and another towards the arousing smells of the summer breeze, leaving the baggage of the past behind, carrying along only the tender memories of the days of 'we' and the faith of rejuvenation, i find myself being much more light-heartened as i venture towards the journey of self-recovery and the healing of a broken heart, like a completed jigsaw that has been patiently put together. Nevertheless, even with that new source of strength and courage to move on, i do still, lack direction, like a unexperienced soldier lost in the depths of the jungle, with no ability to read the compass that i hold in my hand. Nevertheless, in time, it will all be much clearer, as the sourching sun takes its place in that empty spot in the sky, with that cloud of morning mist diving into the hilly mountains and the flowing river beds.
Someone once said 'If you have no idea which way to go, just go straight'. For now, till the day i grasp the meaning of that luminox needle spinning in the black little compass that i hold on my hand, i will, as lost as i am, like a lion cub that had lost sight of its party...just go straight. Just go staight, what else can you do? Just go straight, what's the point of standing here, refusing to bulge? Till you hit a wall, just go straight...Till you see the sun, just go straight...
as the morning sun embraces the break of a new beginning,
announcing the end of the cold harsh winter,
and the welcoming whispers of a summer's renaissance.
As the frozen river bed melts away at the winter's end,
sinking into the deeper depths,
shying away from the warm summer rays,
as the morning sun breaks through that vivid horizon,
the solitudinal line from a distance,
that separates the days from the nights,
the living from the death,
and the new from the old.
A single croak echoes in the cloudless skies,
coloured by a splash of orange and red,
with a clouded blanket of morning mist,
disguising the escapade of its nightly guests,
the shiny crescent moon and its colony of stars.
As i find myself with a new source of strength to lift myself off my feet and take a step, and another, and another towards the arousing smells of the summer breeze, leaving the baggage of the past behind, carrying along only the tender memories of the days of 'we' and the faith of rejuvenation, i find myself being much more light-heartened as i venture towards the journey of self-recovery and the healing of a broken heart, like a completed jigsaw that has been patiently put together. Nevertheless, even with that new source of strength and courage to move on, i do still, lack direction, like a unexperienced soldier lost in the depths of the jungle, with no ability to read the compass that i hold in my hand. Nevertheless, in time, it will all be much clearer, as the sourching sun takes its place in that empty spot in the sky, with that cloud of morning mist diving into the hilly mountains and the flowing river beds.
Someone once said 'If you have no idea which way to go, just go straight'. For now, till the day i grasp the meaning of that luminox needle spinning in the black little compass that i hold on my hand, i will, as lost as i am, like a lion cub that had lost sight of its party...just go straight. Just go staight, what else can you do? Just go straight, what's the point of standing here, refusing to bulge? Till you hit a wall, just go straight...Till you see the sun, just go straight...
Sunday, August 12, 2007
Awakening of a new dawn
Having had dwelled in the shadows of the day for the last couple of months,
lingering in the cold embrace of solitude,
that carries the familiar whispers of self-pity,
the timely awakening of the self was much welcomed.
Having been jobless and idling for the last couple of months, it has finally dawned upon me to take the responsibility of looking for a job seriously. Being unable to perk myself up to pursue the next phrase of my career, i had been half-hearted in my job-hunting efforts. Nevertheless, i witnessed countless heart-felt support from my friends and close ones in these shallow times. Seems like it is time to finally get up on my feet and start treating myself right, to gain back the respect and repay the faith that my close advocates had bestowed upon me.
Having resented the idea of going back into the sales line despite the many consensus that i should stick to it, i had somewhat found that glowing path in the middle of the forest, lighting up to me, guiding me like the soft hands of a mother's clinging onto her precious child. I had finally decided that i should do what i am good at, and that is to pursue the next phrase of my career in sales.
Having screened through the endless sales job opportunities out in the market (some genuine, some fake), i had just finished selecting a handful and submitted my resume accordingly. Mundane tasks like this always takes up far too much effort and unknowingly, the sleepy bugs had made their way up, forcefully stamping on my tired eyelids, as i eventually succumb to its relentless attacks, drifting into the night, keeping my fingers crossed and hoping that i might get lucky and back to work soon.
bonne nuit, bonne chance
lingering in the cold embrace of solitude,
that carries the familiar whispers of self-pity,
the timely awakening of the self was much welcomed.
Having been jobless and idling for the last couple of months, it has finally dawned upon me to take the responsibility of looking for a job seriously. Being unable to perk myself up to pursue the next phrase of my career, i had been half-hearted in my job-hunting efforts. Nevertheless, i witnessed countless heart-felt support from my friends and close ones in these shallow times. Seems like it is time to finally get up on my feet and start treating myself right, to gain back the respect and repay the faith that my close advocates had bestowed upon me.
Having resented the idea of going back into the sales line despite the many consensus that i should stick to it, i had somewhat found that glowing path in the middle of the forest, lighting up to me, guiding me like the soft hands of a mother's clinging onto her precious child. I had finally decided that i should do what i am good at, and that is to pursue the next phrase of my career in sales.
Having screened through the endless sales job opportunities out in the market (some genuine, some fake), i had just finished selecting a handful and submitted my resume accordingly. Mundane tasks like this always takes up far too much effort and unknowingly, the sleepy bugs had made their way up, forcefully stamping on my tired eyelids, as i eventually succumb to its relentless attacks, drifting into the night, keeping my fingers crossed and hoping that i might get lucky and back to work soon.
bonne nuit, bonne chance
Monday, August 6, 2007
the broken-down silence
its been a long while, since i felt that simple pleasures of joy, relief and calmness within me. it's been a long awaited talk between me and her. It seems that my persistence and sincerity had melted the iceberg and given her the opportunity to pour out her feelings and the tough moments that she had to endure through in the last few months. It had been a eventful period of unfortunate happenings for her and it was clear that it had not been any easier for her as it had been for me. That tender vulnerability of her soul had severed from the tough facade of strength as that erupting bottleneck of confused and tender emotions were slowly revealed.
Having tried her best to make a point not to hurt me any further, she had taken the destructive path of keeping her true feelings from me, and yet, as i know, in the end, it had and was to be only me who could deep down, understand and appreciate what she had gone through. In every right, she was as lonesome a traveller as i was. That illusionary circle of protection and refuge that encapsulated her was not to be the saving grace, and unfortunately at the darkest of her moments, she stood alone, helpless like a little child cooped in a lion's den. Like me, it has been a tough phrase in her life, thrown into the chilly waters of the arctic ocean with no more than a winter coat, the harsh coldness sending surges of frozen spikes down that tormented spine, numbing all our thoughts and visions of the future, blinding us instantly.
and now, as my eyes grow accustomed to the pit darkness at the bottom of that treacherous well, i would offer my hand, to accompany her and move forward hand-in-hand, to lead both her and me, out of that darkness, to the end of the tunnel, that concealed entrance of a new beginning, shyly lit only by the faintest of lights, the promises of renaissance.
Having tried her best to make a point not to hurt me any further, she had taken the destructive path of keeping her true feelings from me, and yet, as i know, in the end, it had and was to be only me who could deep down, understand and appreciate what she had gone through. In every right, she was as lonesome a traveller as i was. That illusionary circle of protection and refuge that encapsulated her was not to be the saving grace, and unfortunately at the darkest of her moments, she stood alone, helpless like a little child cooped in a lion's den. Like me, it has been a tough phrase in her life, thrown into the chilly waters of the arctic ocean with no more than a winter coat, the harsh coldness sending surges of frozen spikes down that tormented spine, numbing all our thoughts and visions of the future, blinding us instantly.
and now, as my eyes grow accustomed to the pit darkness at the bottom of that treacherous well, i would offer my hand, to accompany her and move forward hand-in-hand, to lead both her and me, out of that darkness, to the end of the tunnel, that concealed entrance of a new beginning, shyly lit only by the faintest of lights, the promises of renaissance.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
The monotony of a day that ended with the charming moonlight
Undecided as the awl-like leaves that stayed on the white cedar tree, pondering on its existence as a light breeze carries whispers of the end near of winter and the break of summer, i had wanted to lay still in the middle of that frozen lake and await the penetrating rays of the rejuvenated sun as it melts the icy bed that i lay upon and sink into the non-existence with the forgetten departure of that last winter.
Nevertheless, like i was being tugged into the open skies from the hook of a fisherman's line, the bleak future had left me with a silver lining to take a step forward and await the sights and smells of that approaching summer. The new Her, so to speak, had dropped an sms saying 'hi'. We did exchange a couple of words through the mobile and bid each other goodnight with well wishes. It did send a small surge of delightfulness in me as i managed a subtle smile to myself in my heart. It was nice, to simply know that whether there were any good intentions or just a simple gesture of friendship, i was not as isolated or deserted from the mesmerizing sights and hidden promises of what this world was capable of or had in stall.
Settling down from that temporary state of euphoria, i was able to catch back my level-headedness and get my feet back on the dry solid ground. It will be nice to start off as friends, and then, with each step i take, i will stop to look and ponder, to ensure that its a clear and right path that lies ahead from a distance, for with the hurt that still bleeds from the wound that has not healed, i will not want to hurt another with the knife that still sits between my open wound.
Note to thyself : I could be thinking too much too...it could be just...you know...u know...either way, the patience of my bed is wearing thin, i guess its time for a long-awaited reunion. If dreams are the opposite of reality, let us pray for the most horrendous nightmare that our imaginations could render. Run wild, leave no stones unturned for with the break of dawn, as i tear out of that fearful vision of a bad dream, the sweet promises of a good day lingers.
Nevertheless, like i was being tugged into the open skies from the hook of a fisherman's line, the bleak future had left me with a silver lining to take a step forward and await the sights and smells of that approaching summer. The new Her, so to speak, had dropped an sms saying 'hi'. We did exchange a couple of words through the mobile and bid each other goodnight with well wishes. It did send a small surge of delightfulness in me as i managed a subtle smile to myself in my heart. It was nice, to simply know that whether there were any good intentions or just a simple gesture of friendship, i was not as isolated or deserted from the mesmerizing sights and hidden promises of what this world was capable of or had in stall.
Settling down from that temporary state of euphoria, i was able to catch back my level-headedness and get my feet back on the dry solid ground. It will be nice to start off as friends, and then, with each step i take, i will stop to look and ponder, to ensure that its a clear and right path that lies ahead from a distance, for with the hurt that still bleeds from the wound that has not healed, i will not want to hurt another with the knife that still sits between my open wound.
Note to thyself : I could be thinking too much too...it could be just...you know...u know...either way, the patience of my bed is wearing thin, i guess its time for a long-awaited reunion. If dreams are the opposite of reality, let us pray for the most horrendous nightmare that our imaginations could render. Run wild, leave no stones unturned for with the break of dawn, as i tear out of that fearful vision of a bad dream, the sweet promises of a good day lingers.
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