Wednesday, November 26, 2008
safety man
You hands,
The nails that you bite
Your arms,
Your hands that hold me so.
Your voice,
When you talk to me
Your laughter,
When we think of funny things.
Your kindness,
When I’m in trouble
Your concern,
Over the little things that nag me.
Your smell,
Resides in my mind
Your smile ,
Breaks my heart into two.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
29.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
He Was a Friend of Mine
So we each sat in the dimmed room
Each lost in his own sorrow
Each searching his brain for a reason-
To blame, to excuse, to seek the truth.
In a crowd yet alone
Tears filling our eyes, heads paining
So lonely, so worried, far far
Away from close confidants
Unsure, insecure, mourning.
And so we sat, palms on chins,
Afraid to look anywhere but in front
Afraid of the slightest movement
If only there could be an explanation.
Empathetic, of what must have gone though his mind
Did he suffer?
Did he anticipate it?
Was he scared.
We were, afraid, in shock, sad
We would miss his laughter
and Chris Daughtry playing in his laptop
and his trademark shorts
'I'm Allan, 'he'd say, 'not Allen'
( Our classmate had a bad accident, died last week. This has been a very sad week. There's nothing to say really.One can never get used to death, especially of someone you know. I feel it for his parents. If I feel this much sorrow after knowing him for two months,,,how about his mother who's known him 20 years ? He pronounced his name as Allen, but corrected us when we called him that. He was always smiling and nice, asking- so Sis-li-a, how's Cyberia?- {my condo},Miss X, Did you tick my name?- He carried his laptop everywhere. In our Human communication group, he wanted us to review- Baby's Day Out, his favorite movie. I thought he was jocking, he wasn't. We'll surely miss him. I keep thinking- poor Allen, he was so happy )
Each lost in his own sorrow
Each searching his brain for a reason-
To blame, to excuse, to seek the truth.
In a crowd yet alone
Tears filling our eyes, heads paining
So lonely, so worried, far far
Away from close confidants
Unsure, insecure, mourning.
And so we sat, palms on chins,
Afraid to look anywhere but in front
Afraid of the slightest movement
If only there could be an explanation.
Empathetic, of what must have gone though his mind
Did he suffer?
Did he anticipate it?
Was he scared.
We were, afraid, in shock, sad
We would miss his laughter
and Chris Daughtry playing in his laptop
and his trademark shorts
'I'm Allan, 'he'd say, 'not Allen'
( Our classmate had a bad accident, died last week. This has been a very sad week. There's nothing to say really.One can never get used to death, especially of someone you know. I feel it for his parents. If I feel this much sorrow after knowing him for two months,,,how about his mother who's known him 20 years ? He pronounced his name as Allen, but corrected us when we called him that. He was always smiling and nice, asking- so Sis-li-a, how's Cyberia?- {my condo},Miss X, Did you tick my name?- He carried his laptop everywhere. In our Human communication group, he wanted us to review- Baby's Day Out, his favorite movie. I thought he was jocking, he wasn't. We'll surely miss him. I keep thinking- poor Allen, he was so happy )
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
poem
I search for you in every face I meet
I look keenly, deeply, for a hint, a single hint
I try to observe, the look, the look that will determine.
Within me emotions roll, collide and flow, surging
Emotions, that prove to me there’s potential-see
I never had the chance to express these
In my mind a notion grows
That you will open up the things I feel
These forces within me I can’t interpret.
Then perhaps I’ll open up within me
The warm crystals will melt, the tight gates
Open up, the tight fists relax.
I search for you in every face that passes
I look keenly, deeply
But see playfulness, youth and brevity
I try to be thorough and discerning.
The look, to make me know -I’m home
The signal to put my defenses down
The reflection of what I feel, inside me.
{can't get a proper picture after an hour so, this will have to do for now, maybe I'll ask my friends to pose for one}
{my friend read the poem and e-mailed me the comment posted,check it out.I was over the moon :) }
Sunday, November 2, 2008
poem
The Winding paths have reached their end ,
Now am stuck on a one path destination
Perhaps I can be one of them
I am one of them, yet , by the sidelines I stand and spy .
Sometimes peace emanates from behind me
As though packaged in surprise boxes
And from a bird’s view I watch the norms
The common existence
Sometimes I have to look for silence and calm
Despite peace and calm being availed in every market
Perhaps needing to find my own, create my own.
The direct road is too open, I fear exposure
To things unwilled and things inevitable
And water being the core of every being
I find serenity along the river banks
Among the blue green weeds and tadpoles
Interpreting the phonetics of the birds in my mind.
Perhaps this is no imitation
Perhaps this is what has kept out of grasp.
Every time I reached to it, it pulled further
Perhaps I’ve found my home
My place . My burial ground
{Pics by Ciss, Melaka }
Friday, October 31, 2008
LOOKING
Monday, October 6, 2008
Poem
Mr. Lee
He said come let’s go follow me
He pulled my hand said I’m Tom Lee
He watched me blush
He gave a phone flash
He pulled a dollar, waved a five
Will buy a cow maybe a hive
Just talk slow, let I your heart know
The wind stopped
The drinks were popped as,
He upon my nape blew and
Gave a kiss not few
He caught me by the shoulder bit
He said this is how we do it
And Said-sticker than Siamese we now were
Love he said would bloom with time
And though attractive his dimes were
His voice stole the show
As off we set sail in a dhow
He said come let’s go follow me
He pulled my hand said I’m Tom Lee
He watched me blush
He gave a phone flash
He pulled a dollar, waved a five
Will buy a cow maybe a hive
Just talk slow, let I your heart know
The wind stopped
The drinks were popped as,
He upon my nape blew and
Gave a kiss not few
He caught me by the shoulder bit
He said this is how we do it
And Said-sticker than Siamese we now were
Love he said would bloom with time
And though attractive his dimes were
His voice stole the show
As off we set sail in a dhow
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