"i'll like a drop of rainwater refracting light...
and a dash of illumination across the endless dark too."

Thursday, May 31, 2012

.seven years.
by norah jones

... eyes wide open,
always hoping for the sun.
and she'll sing her song to anyone
that comes along.

fragile as a leaf in autumn,
just fallin' to the ground,
without a sound.

crooked little smile on her face,
tells a tale of grace
that's all her own...

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

why can't i

why can't i just be around you without being so aware of the rest?

can you even see that i wish to spend more time by your side but somehow people just cross my path literally?
why can't our paths cross in a more intricate and timely manner?

truth is, why can't i just be braver?
i don't even think you can tell its only you i want.

as much as i'd like to see you around,
even if its for that few minutes,
to know you're here at where i am though we may not meet,

yet if being where we are does not bring you happiness,
then i'd rather you leave and find a place where you'd truly be happy, or at least that bit happier,
even if this means we may never cross paths.

i guess fate has teased me once again,
like she's done before.

perhaps i am truly irresistible to tease... even by fate.

or maybe its just the melancholic streak in me.

but i truly wish you'll be happy, wherever you are.

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

... a tiny crevice into you.
a pleasant, surprise find.
don't know how this may go,
but i like where we've been.

i like. today,
because of you.
the finally not-so-quiet you.


because you came.


today felt a little different,

almost a little special.

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Thursday, May 24, 2012

times when you confused me once more.
sensing more than i should?
you! seriously!

it must have been your usual 'calm and serious' persona...
therefore you always manages to surprise me just by being
that teeny little bit cheekier...
that teeny little bit more hyper...
that teeny little bit less dark and more cheery...
that teeny little bit in the 'doing-something-silly' (in a somewhat rather cute manner) mode.

i smiled, though our eyes did not meet - dared not,
well-aware that my force shield is not strong enough.
... so you probably wouldn't know i was kind of happy to meet you again.

no doubt, you merely reacted a little more strongly than your usual rather quiet self.
but i know, i am truly irresistible to tease,
even by the seriously most serious person on earth. (fine, a little exaggeration here.)

still, your puzzling reactions...
your 'jokingly' approach, put down all your stuff, appeared shocked, turn, walk away and suddenly come back with a somewhat bubbly teasing self when you saw me.

yeah. what? again? again.
you are genuinely funny,
so funny i wanted to laugh, a concoction of the 'kind-of-happy-to-see-you-again' with a little of the 'err.. -_-" so, this is the way you welcome me back?'.

and so,
since you're so funny that i don't know what to make of you,
i therefore decide, at this point in time, to give a loud dramatic sigh,
before concluding once more - its just you having fun teasing me. again.

yes. so, and nothing more.
you, strange you.

you, who somehow just manages to bring me that smile others can't.
irritating you.

wildebeest and the rain

like a wildebeest seeking the scent of rain,
a wanderer, his sojourn,
i traced your unseen footsteps.

stealing a peek from the crevice between the rocks,
i saw that drop of tear from eons ago,
heart of a man who once was lost.

i woke, so i'd never be found.
this sense of freedom i now hold,
meant solely for the brave dreamer i'll never find.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

ses-see-lee-ə, ses-see-lee-ə,

sight of our soul, blindness of self.

ah ~ faith. unseen.

go ahead, analyse the life lived,
postulate the life unlived; and find,
at the end of it all,
yourself clueless.

to know the right one, trust your heart.
for no matter how hard one tries,
love remains something of a spark.

yet sparks only last this long.

because nothing is fixed,
you can define it to be anything.
and because you can define it as anything,
nothing is correct and nothing is wrong.

a full time dreamer and philosopher,
ah! but why is this title unpaid?
chided, laughed at, puzzled over,
perhaps bringing a stifling remembrance -
yet worth nothing more.

a glimpse of that ever-elusive, slippery fish?
as difficult as you are to be unraveled,
you'll soon realised you can't even begin to find that iceberg tip of hers,
in this little deep ocean.
she doesn't even need to try hiding.

to be lost.
and, never to be found.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

"His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott. ..."

dear lady of shalott,
but why had you turn?
why this foolish dream?
why had you a mirror?

tirra lirra. tirra lirra.

bury you in satin,
lay you down on a bed of roses?
sink you in the river at dawn,
send you away with the words of a love song?
sharp knife of a short life.

the ballad of a dove,
go with peace and love,
gather up your tears.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

i see you. smile.

i see your smile.
there can be a hundred reasons.
i just wished i was that one.
you're moving so slowly,
if you're moving at all.
i'm tired of waiting,
but can do nothing more.
perhaps we're both unsure,
or perhaps i got it wrong.
but your minuscule actions -
they get me killed.
you're here, there,
you're everywhere.
gets on my nerves sometimes.
yet perhaps tis' just an excuse for my melancholic indulgence, which makes me feel alive.

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Thursday, May 3, 2012

with every second that passed, fish becomes less certain of the intensity of those feelings she's felt since.
this slipping away, be good or bad?
perhaps neither.
for if something is real, it never really goes away.
yet if something is dreamt, it can never be taken away.

"after the game, the king and the pawn go into the same box."
the passing kings and the interesting pawns fish swam across in the chess game settings of her life -
they never lasted long.
neither queen nor pawns would she be,
just an ordinary on-looker, a passer-by.
stop, stare, think and maybe be amazed for a while -
catch her while she's deep in thoughts,
right before she snaps out and glides away.

hopes and dreams that never hurt,
so transient, so desirable.
perhaps in spite of the strength and intensity of the emotions she felt,
her deep want for zen-ity and control of self would never allow her reins to be let go of fully.

for beneath the crashing waves lies a locked-away heart so still,
she sometimes wonder and fear if its actually still beating.