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Showing posts from 2012

Who are you...?

Who are you... appears in my life with images of him; the person I want to get rid of, years ago giving me the kind of feeling-- people write novels about
Fruitless effort never let me win to let you go, please know that by now for this is nothing more than just a habit and I live to write another poem 'love' will forever be my subject of writing
So tell me, who are you..?

Can't write a song

I can't write a song from my words they're deficient in wisdom in chains of unpleasant feelings resounding from night to night; to wake up in one, to sleep in another Blossomy days will wither on its place nothing but impermanent scents, frozen times cracking its way out slowly losing strength as it went, and one more lie will complete this story before it starts to rain again.

All the things you never knew by Wang Lee Hom

How many times does a butterfly blink
Before it learns to fly?
The sky is sprinkled over with countless stars
But how many there will remain?
Even as I fly, you fall
So close I can hear you breathe
So sorry I didn’t keep hold of you

You don’t know why I had to leave you
How could I ignore your every cry
All the while the downpour of your tears shattering the ground
So clearly pierced my heart
You don’t know why I had to keep away
Circling in the sky above, just out of sight
So many are the things you never knew.

-Wang Lee Hom-

Water the Lilies

The famous big ol' moon once said to me;
Care not what bothers you,
worries and hatred dust them away,
cry not, times that leave you,
leave them tears to the crow's
mourners under a dead tree
in veils of black and flowers.

Early morning,
water the Lilies.
daydream some more.

The last photo

The other day was something else, alive as we are now, but breathless The next thing they'll ask is where do I go from here? Suddenly the whispering wind sounds louder, louder than exhaling its same form
It's not enough to just watch, I wish I could catch it and keep it to be my own alive-breathless Unlike capturing the blank ceiling, dying and live believing that sadistic definition of life Let it be someone else, whose befriended nights and excuses
It's seldom dark over here, only cloudy.

A glimpse of heaven

A smile that is brighter Than the morning sunshine When a heart is out looking For its missing piece
Another soul has left its owner To go on a journey In search of another Lonely soul
A glimpse of heaven... Just another step away From the destination
But I'll be there When the time is right.

Of white and blue

Now, six years later, from its dusty box, I take it out And place it there where a picture frame should be But empty Bold, pretty But still new Of white and blue. It's a blur when what could've been Never was Neither now Not a clue Of white and blue.
A present for And a present from I gather both in mental notes Though the one for you Not of white and blue
I wasn't there myself, I was-- Juggling patches of riddles With bare wet hands.
I'm not a risk-taker-- Anymore.

The book of almanac

January, 2012:
Sissy's birthday, remarks;
Contemplation day, remarks;

February, 2012:
Filling up the emptiness day, remarks;
Contemplation day, remarks;

March, 2012:
Contemplation day, remarks;

April, 2012:
Contemplation day, remarks;

May, 2012:
Baby bro's birthday, remarks;
Contemplation day, remarks;

June, 2012:
Contemplation day, remarks;

July, 2012:
Contemplation day, remarks;


Today's journal;
Everything has been said
But none has been done
The teapot is half empty
But this cup is never filled.

A successful Failure,
A lifeless Murderer,
A lawful Sinner.

More or Less

Listen more, read more, write more Say less... Act more, pray more, think more Dream less...
Hopeless, useless, worthless Breathe more... Timeless, countless Thank more...
Give more, take less
Learn more... Judge less...

Keeping a butterfly

When things turned grey
remember to turn around;
remember that scratches won't turned into scars
in just a minute,
remember even it was long time ago
everything stays in yesterday,
remember that now is just another more day
after then,
remember this, but make it short
shorter than a decade
for it is too long to wait and
names would fall off or slipped away
from a mind full of unsorted tragedies.

Remember if we missed a day
that can be 'a month' or 'a year ago',
no need for an accurate calculation,
because all that matters--
is an item on the list checked "lesson learned". But if you still lost track of time then
try keeping a butterfly.

When things turned grey
remember to turn this life around.

The colour of happiness

Happiness... is an apple we buy from a poor child live across the street. The moon we found hiding behind the cloudy dark sky after a long hour of waiting. Sometimes it is the burned porridge that mom's cooked, or it can be the present we received, sent to us from an old friend.
Some find it through the hardship and sweat-- and some, effortless.
Happiness is not what we draw everyday-- still, the colours; day by day, line after line, will stay permanently and can be seen each time we smile.

I like the rain

I can't be the hero of my own story, someone else will fit well for that character, not me. I can't write another new one either; sometimes I did, but that doesn't count. This is the only true one I have, and I'm keeping it, every last bitterness there is.
If I am to start writing a new one, from where should I begin? I graduated from the second chapter long time ago-- maybe I'm on my eleventh now, and I believe, those chapters are still the début of many, and many more to come.
I'm not a loner anymore, contentment... I guess that's the most idéal word of all.

I'm not worthy

I was on my way out and now I'm almost there;
I won't tell you everything or my something will be nothing.
I feel sorry for you yet I'm not wise enough to help.
I can say millions of words but I have reasons not to.
I am not normal and so I belong with those who aren't.
I regret falling in love though I'm glad I did and now I'm numb.
I tend to get tangled in my own words and I never win a game.
I know what others don't and same goes to the other way around.
I have feelings and I know you do too.

Read me,
between the lines.

Desirable present

In a company of a desirable present I shall let thee live for a hundred years if ever I'm brave and noble enough to live that long
Thee whom beauty is far greater than  words can describe; by eyes if one is blind, by heart if one can see
I shall let thee live forever in this sanctuary, for I'm not a killer and neither will I but a servant to foolishness oh my!

Life at the front row

Remind me when I'm not who I am;
away from my head
lost in the midst of time

Remind me again when I'm green
or deep red, blue or fading like old white

For reality stands in a front row
when it's hard to be left alone--
and harder it is to move on.

My prince in shining armor

My prince in shining armor
is a gentleman with a weird accent,
not too tall, not too short
got a full marks right out of ten

My prince in shining armor
own a very beautiful smile,
blue shoes or brown bag
colours went grey in the meanwhile

My prince in shining armor
is actually not a prince at all,
without a crown, without a cape
it's not so hard for me to recall

Late at night, there he'll be
sitting quietly at his study
wearing his glasses, doing his paper that's my prince in shining armor.

I Still Wonder by Carly Rae Jepsen

"...I still wonder what it is  I met you for."

I know her story

I can't remember
when was the last time I meet her
or rather, seen her;
By now mind starts forming an image of a girl
totally different from how I suppose-- she is today
or perhaps-- better than she was before--
I can't decide

I know her story years ago but-- kind of weary
for a heart to deal with-- twice the sorry
but I know her aren't I? So I feel the dreary

mind starts drawing her face and beauties
in details-- her freckles, scars, bruises and other
in a fussy recollection of faded memories
so far-- as I can gather

I still remember her-- or was I?
If only there's an answer--
before she left-- and deny.

Unsent letter

I'm going away my love,
right now just writing you this letter
and I'll be away my love,
for fourteen days or a hundred years--
though it doesn't even matter

until then...

night and day will never be the same again
please come again
start everything all over again
tell me your first name again
be my friend just once again

Wave me goodbye from far my love.

Just as I thought it would be over

Just as I thought it would be over
night has gave me another sweet dream
and a thief stealing the air that I breathe
again, I'm wearing this smile he gave me
this cold that wraps me until the sun touches me
slowly I open my eyes

This house reminds me of dust, gold, sculptures
a love-like figure in the middle
and you

I paint, but never believe in any
paintings are tales and tales are lies
and those lies hang perfectly on the wall

Just as I thought it would be over
night has gave me another hope.

You are wonderful

Wonderful, it makes me smile Wonderful, as time goes by Wonderful, the day it started Wonderful, until now I feel it
Wonderful, I sing it every now and then Wonderful, when I question my self again
Wonderful, you are to me Wonderful, forever you'll be.

Growing a mushroom

I'm growing a mushroom with polka dots pink and blue outside the door, under the key far from the giant-size willow tree
I'll make it grow with water and snow and lots of sunny day shines with rainbow
But it's only a mushroom what else can I do? No person nor soul, still can ever own you.

Sweaty palms

I can tell that sweaty palms
mean something's on his mind
or nothing, nothing at all
but I did, I did fall
just be cool don't be a fool

You've got sweaty palms
deciding drum or drums
mumble and stumble not humble pointing there over nothing
or something, but I don't get it
forget it, don't be a fool
just be cool, I knew it
that sweaty palms of yours
"never mind, I really am fine"
it's what she said
but I don't believe it don't be fooled by it
take a look
at that sweaty palms

Give me your sweaty palms and let me count the lines.

Person in extinction

One can only be, be only oneself
Only can be, one only can
Can be one only, only be one
Can only be oneself, no other but one
Just one and no one else

Be just one;
"don't change your hair.."

Only be one;
"take off those preppy clothes.."

No other one:
"walk straight in this line.."
"Why can I be me!"
 ** They told you many times
"Make oneself a person"
instead of being a full time
feline with no other reason.

Nothing but thee

She's sick
I'm sick of her
Twisting into one
Those dreams beside her
It's crazy--
and she's wearing it
I'm crazy--
and I'm running with her

This left, that right, I own none but thee
This song, that night, just set them all free

Smile along, sing along, pray along
for 'now' my friend--
will not be staying too long.

Lyre, Lyric, Lonesome

Open window, shredded wall newspapers dated night and rainfall
Rusty harmonica, lyre that fails rough hands with marks and peeled finger nails
A singer in her room a writer on his bed home filled with wires of red and red
Old house, a studio, a place to sit sweet melody, beautiful voice, and a lyric to read.

A Greek Ode

I can write
millions of words and
still no soul
not one finest creation of God
reads me the way I do

I can be
each of those words and
still no eye
not one heartful glimpse of angel
see me the way I do

They were looking,
but weren't really see

I'm not a poet
of that I'm sure,
no changes made when
a Greek Ode hand you no pleasure.

In her elegant parlour

As I sat down in her elegant parlour for an afternoon tea, I asked Miss Lilly "what's next? Another excuse?"
Her world is a total different than the actual one I'm in, words that are literature to her are complex questions to me.
Someone's at the door but she left it unanswered.
Looking at the time it's already late, placing the book on my side hoping that Miss Lilly will be fine.