Duet on Flight

Duet on Flight


Have you ever seen two knotted balloons fly,
Ignorance of the unwitting bystander?
Give no lies nor tall tales of their long-lost cry.

You have heard Man's anguished scream and painful sigh
But still insistently imposed your desire.
Have you ever seen two knotted balloons fly?

They soar overhead across the stunning sky
On their terminal flight from sky skirt to skirt.
Give no lies nor tall tales of their long-lost cry.

Their scourged screams and mute shrieks of 'Love run dry'
Reverberate in a chorus of cursed hymns.
Have you ever seen two knotted balloons fly?

While your absconding air ends their futile try
And they plunge to the empty abyss of loss,
Give no lies or tall tales of their long-lost cry.

But still into your hollow vows, we buy
In vain of hope and some-time-soon belonging.
Have You ever seen two knotted balloons fly?
Give no lies or tall tales of their long-lost cry.

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Used the villanelle found Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man as a model

Limericks

Limericks


I went home in a Toyota.
My dad did not care where we are.
We opened the door.
I fell on the floor
And my dad laughed ha-ha.

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Oh what fun the had tonight!
Under such a loving light.
She turned to his face,
He blushed and embraced
And they both squealed in delight!

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Whilst packing my stuff, I found a couple of limericks which my friend and I wrote last year. Quite nonsensical actually.

Great Balls of Fire

Great Balls of Fire


In the intense heat of the night,
an exploding passion was set alight.

What was left was only pitch-black darkness
and the sudden sharp alertness.

It started at the base of the erect edifice
and raged on with plenty of fiest.

Pounding away with an intense furor,
the pale liquid glistened at exposure,
trying to bring an end to the aroused climax,
yet it started from the bottom and never reached its max.

Alack! The firemen have put out the fire!
It's time to go back to bed now that it's o'er!

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In memory of the fire that burned my block

Game

Game


I think most of you have played this game before( I don't know the name). It's about creating a story with your friends by each taking turns writing one sentence.

1) Get a piece of paper, a pen and friends who want to play the game
2) Decide whether it's a first person narrative or third person
3) A person starts to write a line thereafter covers it and passes it on to the next. You can only tell the last word you've written in the sentence to the next person.
4) The next person writes whatever he wants but CANNOT read the previous line(s)
5) It continues until there's no more space on the paper.

Note: You can add more rules if you want. For example, my friends decided they have to rhyme. If you want to have a title, each person writes a word independently then put it together.

Here's what my and my 2 friends did:

Life Sucks Dice

The world shook, at the moment, that 'She' was born.
She saw the world through her tiny white eyes.
And her eyes were always drawn to porn.
She was wondering, what the hell happened to my mice?
She did watch porn.
She was addicted to porn, like hair and lice.
She got so excited, her skirt soaked and torn.
It was so bad, on came lice.
She was so angry that hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
However, the next day, She met He and He was someone she despised.
She had a look on her face that was so forlorn.
So sad was she that she cried out her eyes.
She went home, dejected, and went to the radio and switched it on.
It, thus, came with a price.
So expensive it was that she started eating corn.
She felt hungry and chopped up potatoes for some french fries.
So she started to grow horns.
And she became so fat that she could not apologize.


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TADAA!!!And there you have a perfectly nonsensical story!

Promiscuous piety

Promiscuous piety


You, disbelieving preacher,
do not even know what you are saying.

Your inexhaustible litany of excuses
give you a safe haven, your pack of lies
some breathing distance.

The straight line they perceive
you to be is actually crooked,
making a mockery out of
those imbecile cuckolds.

The token redemption that you offer
will not make the strong fall. The same
poisoned chalice by which weak falter
and the tainted bread that you debauch
is returned to the rightful altar.

Two antithetical worlds which you desire
are in parallel dimensions. Unable to
reconcile them both, you stumble down
the lonely track. The cares you once had,
the cares that you saved are now all lost,
lost by your bed

Merci

Merci


Done and dusted,the decision
hath been made,
no wriggle-room now, it's time
to remain steadfast with precision.

The two-headed serpent
condemned to its belly
ever changes its direction
with skill and no folly.

The pioneers of love fell to its powers
left tormented by the worldly troubles,
with no way out to make amends
are left to rue their cupidity.

The reoccurence already at hand
no more talk of it not happening again.
All that is left is no different similarities
but similar disparities.

Gratitude in words doth thou expresses
in no action it composes.
All it is to make culpability weakened
by no means make thou a deacon.

A man more sinn'd against than sin,
with no respite nor mercy given,
all he hears is cries of "merci"
which ring hollow in thy own ears.


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And on the seventh day, God rested.

Checkpoint

Checkpoint


He sat down to think,
thinking of his thoughts and deeds,
but he could not write it down
for they were confused and jumbled all the same.

He know not where to begin
much less to know where to end
but he does know that it did not start
so it will not be resolved.

A point of time,
where he reached crossroads,
he needs a sign to indicate the directions
to go where he wants to.

All he can do now is to stop.

He has to stop to consider his path,
not knowing where it will lead him
or where he wants to go
but he will struggle on.

Struggling on to nowhere,
a place promised to him sometime back
he brings his battered and bruised body
to bear more backlashes in time.

Is this the place where his journey ends
or just a sign of a new beginning?
A checkpoint in his endless journey
or the end of his final trek?

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Wrote this because i can't seem to write down my thoughts here. Looks like i really need to talk to someone soon. I think it's time for me to go back to being a recluse.

To whom it may concern

To whom it may concern


I may not have many things but what i have, i gave you everything.
may I be the one standing in line to be loved by you?
not the one cast aside just like a poor piece of tissue.
have i not done enough to make you understand that the
many deeds I have done to be there for you,
things that you so easily are able to overlook?

But maybe it is just my cruel fate
what I have done is not enough.
I have loved you over again
have you ever taken notice?
I love you and
gave, without expectation,
you- my
everything.


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Read carefully and notice a few things :)

Incandescence

Incandescence


Like a candle,
which burns so bright
it helps to shed
the darkness of the night;

Like a candle,
which burns so bright
yet it is so meek in the day
devoid of light;

That same candle
which I light
burns itself out
and kills my might;

That same candle
which I light
shows me the way
all through the night;

The same candle
which I light
has lost its glow
leaving me in this plight;

That spontaneous combustion
which made the light
seems to have disappeared;

That spontaneous combustion
which made things bright
come back now and reappear;

The light has faded
leaving the sleepers jaded;

The light has diminished
the remainders soon-to-be finished;

The light once pure and full of might
has lost its lustre gone with no bite;

Conjure back the magic for that last moment,
showing your full glory in that moment,
leaving the onlookers in amazement
in that last moment of incandescence:

Remind us of the love left unspoken.

Just so you know

Just so you know


Lost are the words she said,
but it is remembered in his head.
She doesn't know that he cares
or the sadness he alone bears
but she has moved on ahead
while he's holding onto the things she said.

Perhaps he's just a caught-up fool
who can't move on and stays still
or is it love that perilous pill
that made him to that tired tool?

No one understands his utter misery
alone he sits covered in mystery,
writing that lonesome melody,
to accompany his sad story

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It's kind of strange how people can break up and get into another relationship so soon. I don't know maybe it's just me who doesn't want to move on but when i love, i love with my whole heart. I wonder if she does...

Official

Official


A continuation of my reflections

Well.. The result is official but there was never really any doubt about it eh? All I can say is i did my best, though it just shows my best was not enough. Sometimes I wonder if it's just I got deluded into thinking we could do it or did i really believe that we will.

Debating was my song. A song that i could sing. Not particularly well but good enough. I knew it'll never be a chart-topper but i just wanted to be on the chart. Was that too much to ask? Sometimes i wonder if i've over-inflated my abilities. But i know i haven't. Have i?

The worse part of losing is not the pain of it. It is when you question yourself. That's when you begin to doubt yourself and lose your identity, pride. How ironic. I know how to say it but I still allow it to happen.

Ever heard that good things never occur twice but bad things come in 3s?

Well.. I'm still waiting for the third to happen. Maybe it already has. I don't know. Maybe these challenges are something i need to overcome to understand things better. After all, I've learnt much more through what I've failed to do or done wrong than whatever i've done right.

That which does not kill makes you stronger. Is that so?

That which does not kill just makes you suffer longer doesn't it? Well.. For all the wise guys who came up with these 'pearls of wisdom', i think they often understate the difficulties.

I don't know. Maybe I'm not as strong as i think. Well.. Actually, I knew i was never strong. Those who are perceived to be strong are the weakest and vice-versa. I'll admit i'm very weak emotionally. But who cares?

I mean, who has ever bothered about how i felt? Who has actually taken the time to sit with me and talk about life? Who has actually bothered to ask me "what happened?" when i'm really troubled?

No one.

They ask when I look troubled. They ask when i don't talk. I don't blame them because I've never been one to open my heart.

I've been unable to trust people because the last time i trusted, I lost. I lost terribly. It's like in poker when you ask for a 'show hand'. Yes, I lost everything.

It doesn't help when the people i think i can trust either drifts away or is already caught up with something else.

I think I'm just tired. Maybe all i need is time. It has proven to be an effective antidote.

But I'll know what'll really work. Someone who'd listen to me, cry with me and at the end just say "I love you" and give me a hug.

Come to think of it, I've realised the last bad thing!

My inability to cry.

Some people cry a lot. Some people cry. Some people cry out loud. Some people cry in their hearts. In any case, they've been able to cry.

I have not.

I've wanted to cry for very long. For those who still carry the belief guys shouldn't cry, i think you should read up on how this shortens our lives.

I've tried to cry.

I couldn't. Even when my heart is crying out to want to just cry, I can't.

You know something?

The saddest thing in life isn't being unable to be happy but being unable to cry.

Reflections

Reflections


No poetry or stories today, just some reflections.

Everyone around me seems to pairing up these days. Or rather, all my close friends HAVE paired up. Well... I guess i should be happy for them? Yet, at the same time, I'm jealous. I wonder why they're so lucky. I wonder why they are so happy. I wonder why they are so different.

You know, everyone says friends change when they're in a relationship. It's true. Although you don't see an 180 degree turn, it's more like a 1 degree by another turn. The subtle changes only close friends can experience but others don't. I'm not really bothered by that though. Maybe I am but that's not the main reason why I'm writing this

Maybe I think too much. Maybe I should just react.

I wonder how all of them actually get into a relationship when they have major exams coming and NS next year. After my first and only relationship, I have had this phobia of relationships. I just hate that sinking feeling. And i know if i were to get in a relationship this year, most prob it'd end soon. Which is what i don't want.

There have been a couple of girls who I've been attracted to but everytime i think how it will end, it just freaks me out. And it doesn't help I ain't a good-looker. I'm confident in myself but there's always this stumbling block.

Everyone says true love will last. I agree. But it depends how long the love can be true. Nothing stays the same and that goes for true love. The idea of 'true love' in itself is a paradox. If love indeed is true, why the need to say 'true love'? Isn't it just a form of delusion?

I'm still confused over what i want. I'm still confused over my feelings. I'm still confused with who i am. I am still confused with what i want to be.

I've never been able to trust anyone with my feelings, my thoughts or even my dreams. I've always sought solace in my writing. They are my greatest joys. I have a few other joys, things i can really be proud of. Yet, I've already lost some of them.

I have lost my voice. Not the real one but the true one. But perhaps, i never even had it. That voice which enabled me to sing a song. A song of mine, which belonged to me. Now i can't even say a word. It's as if someone is choking me, stealing those words before it comes out of me.

I'm still waiting for my song to come back. Still waiting for my new song. Still waiting for someone to hear it.

All i want is to be loved as much as i have loved. I have loved and loved, my heart being flogged and flogged. I have never gave it reparation because no one has ever tried to give it. The wounds i have of past are still present and perhaps will still be in the future.

In the Meantime

In the Meantime


The rustling of newspapers,
the whispers of voices,
heels clanking against the floor,
where can the peace be found?

Waiting aimlessly for life to flow by,
life in its essence goes on restless.
The unfulfilled desires and unanswered prayers
can bring down the man so pious.

No longer in need of unkept promises,
No longer in need of false hope,
No longer in need of unwanted praises,
No longer in need of love in disguises,
yet his soul innate rages like a tempest.

Perhaps all he needs now are those promises,
the hope praises and love in its disguises
yet he knows the peace will not be found
until to the heart, his life is bound.

In the meantime,
his life is unfulfilled.
His words are unheard
and his problems unaddressed...

Requiem

Requiem


As the last of the white ivories fluttered, the audience was left enraptured by the beautiful requiem that unfolded before them. A play on their emotions that brought them to incredible highs and abysses of lows. Though it ended, the elegance remained. The director sensing this pumped his fist of triumph.

Every play before seemed like a sideshow and the play after was no better. Calm impatience ruled as both cast, crew and director alike waited for the results. The teacher's play seemed no more than an insult.

The final curtain call before the results were to be announced. Everyone sat in anticipation.

With one of his actresses clinching the 'Best Actress' award, he cheered at the expected surprise. There was never a doubt there were only 2 real candidates for the prize and both were in his tragedy. Yet, the bigger prize awaited. The "Best Play' award. The air of anticipation reigned. Expecting the award yet prepared for the upset, the words plummeted from the mouths of the emcees. It was almost as if it were a requiem. "Black Jack" won and once again he drew a joker. His face dropped. Disappointment stole his win. He never knew how to be a gracious winner and he wasn't planning to learn how to be one. They lost again. Or have they?

What his team managed to do was to show the audience Life. His actors weren't acting. They were their character. No longer were they separate entities but one body. By making the audience move and feel the way they wanted, they achieved the ultimate triumph. It wasn't about the award anymore; it was the consensus that everyone heard the most beautiful requiem of their lives.

The director secretly pumped that same fist of triumph and stood proud.

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I think it's sad how people only look at the surface. Everyone congratulates the cast but not the crew. It is as if the play could take its form without the crew. I made it a point to group people together and thank them. Yet, I wonder how many others have forgotten about them. Admittedly, it's the cast who has to face the pressure of acting in front of many. But the crew is the one who makes it happen. There are many times we forget to thank people, making them go underappreciated. I think each person should make it a point to thank others for their contributions. I speak because i similarly feel the same. I put in a lot of effort, more than anyone else unless named Z. But no one bothered to thank me. Maybe I'm just too sensitive. But I am a very sensitive person. Or how would i be able to direct Requiem?

Yet, sometimes I think I'm already thanked. Thanked by that beautiful play put up. No words can express how proud i felt.