I wish a Temple is rung today
A Gumba echoed with Om today
And the hearts mellow
Filled with your birthday song!
I wish a Church is built today
A Mosque in Mecca is filled today
And the blessings hallow
Rinse you of all your sins!
I wish all Heavens give you today
I wish all Demons leave you today
And the hearts mellow
Wish you a birthday song!
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Sunday, December 6, 2009
TILL MY LAND
Till my land
Ostracize all suave vermin
Indenture your mettle
Vent your ire
Be the bane of scourges
Kill the toadies
Till my land
Feel my land
Wheel my land to Sufism
Fumigate my farm
Breath in miasma
Breath out fragrance
Delete nepotism
See through treacly histrionics
For all floundering apparition
Till my land
Heal my land
Seal my land from vultures
Irrigate my soil
Thaw the rivers
Light the lanterns in clouded sky
Fill my craters with will
Drill blockage
Annihilate venality
Blow the trumpet of action
Time has come
Till my land
Build my land
Fill my land with prosperity
Ostracize all suave vermin
Indenture your mettle
Vent your ire
Be the bane of scourges
Kill the toadies
Till my land
Feel my land
Wheel my land to Sufism
Fumigate my farm
Breath in miasma
Breath out fragrance
Delete nepotism
See through treacly histrionics
For all floundering apparition
Till my land
Heal my land
Seal my land from vultures
Irrigate my soil
Thaw the rivers
Light the lanterns in clouded sky
Fill my craters with will
Drill blockage
Annihilate venality
Blow the trumpet of action
Time has come
Till my land
Build my land
Fill my land with prosperity
Friday, November 6, 2009
coldy wint
me shivering
my blanket too thin
i curl up
my palms warm my shin
misty breath
condenses on my skin
I seek heat
Still cold where I lean
Toes bent
My frozen eyes squint
My bed feels like
Icy flint
Could use some warmth
On this coldy wint…
my blanket too thin
i curl up
my palms warm my shin
misty breath
condenses on my skin
I seek heat
Still cold where I lean
Toes bent
My frozen eyes squint
My bed feels like
Icy flint
Could use some warmth
On this coldy wint…
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
A road to home…
I travel by my dreams
Breathing in air ahead
My legs keep movin
Over all my feelings laid
The sun is clouded
My vision surreal
I need to go there
And tell her how I feel
Her whisper takes me
My eyes lay focused
My prayer makes me
Wonder what my words make us
I feel her breath
In the leaves that sway
I travel by my dream
To her way..
Breathing in air ahead
My legs keep movin
Over all my feelings laid
The sun is clouded
My vision surreal
I need to go there
And tell her how I feel
Her whisper takes me
My eyes lay focused
My prayer makes me
Wonder what my words make us
I feel her breath
In the leaves that sway
I travel by my dream
To her way..
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
rain!
Slippers fling the soily drops
My shorts spotted, darn flip flops!
Still u rain! U can’t stop my run
I will beat u when I reach my home.
My shorts spotted, darn flip flops!
Still u rain! U can’t stop my run
I will beat u when I reach my home.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
downloaded frm metacafe
Typical Man!
WHY I FIRED MY SECRETARY.
Last week was my birthday and I didn't feel very well waking up on that
morning.
I went downstairs for breakfast hoping my wife would be pleasant and
say,
"Happy Birthday!", and possibly have a small present for me.
As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone " Happy
Birthday."
I thought...
Well, that's marriage for you, but the kids... They will remember.
My kids came bounding down stairs to breakfast and didn't say a word.
So when I left for the office, I felt pretty low and somewhat
despondent.
As I walked into my office, my secretary Jane said, "Good Morning
Boss, and
by the way Happy Birthday ! "
It felt a little better that at least someone had remembered.
I worked until one o'clock , when Jane knocked on my door and said,
"You
know, It's such a beautiful day outside,
and it is your Birthday, what do you say we go out to lunch, just you
and
me."
I said, "Thanks, Jane, that's the greatest thing I've heard all day.
Let's
go !"
We went to lunch. But we didn't go where we normally would go.
She chose instead at a quiet bistro with a private table.
We had two martinis each and I enjoyed the meal tremendously.
On the way back to the office, Jane said, "You know, It's such a
beautiful
day... We don't need to go straight back to the office,
Do We ?"
I responded, "I guess not. What do you have in mind ?"
She said, "Let's drop by my apartment, it's just around the corner."
After arriving at her apartment, Jane turned to me and said, " Boss,
if you
don't mind,
I'm going to step into the bedroom for just a moment.
I'll be right back." "Ok." I nervously replied.
She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out
carrying a huge birthday cake ...
Followed by my wife, my kids, and dozens of my friends and co-workers,
all
singing "Happy Birthday".
And I just sat there...
On the couch...
Naked.
WHY I FIRED MY SECRETARY.
Last week was my birthday and I didn't feel very well waking up on that
morning.
I went downstairs for breakfast hoping my wife would be pleasant and
say,
"Happy Birthday!", and possibly have a small present for me.
As it turned out, she barely said good morning, let alone " Happy
Birthday."
I thought...
Well, that's marriage for you, but the kids... They will remember.
My kids came bounding down stairs to breakfast and didn't say a word.
So when I left for the office, I felt pretty low and somewhat
despondent.
As I walked into my office, my secretary Jane said, "Good Morning
Boss, and
by the way Happy Birthday ! "
It felt a little better that at least someone had remembered.
I worked until one o'clock , when Jane knocked on my door and said,
"You
know, It's such a beautiful day outside,
and it is your Birthday, what do you say we go out to lunch, just you
and
me."
I said, "Thanks, Jane, that's the greatest thing I've heard all day.
Let's
go !"
We went to lunch. But we didn't go where we normally would go.
She chose instead at a quiet bistro with a private table.
We had two martinis each and I enjoyed the meal tremendously.
On the way back to the office, Jane said, "You know, It's such a
beautiful
day... We don't need to go straight back to the office,
Do We ?"
I responded, "I guess not. What do you have in mind ?"
She said, "Let's drop by my apartment, it's just around the corner."
After arriving at her apartment, Jane turned to me and said, " Boss,
if you
don't mind,
I'm going to step into the bedroom for just a moment.
I'll be right back." "Ok." I nervously replied.
She went into the bedroom and, after a couple of minutes, she came out
carrying a huge birthday cake ...
Followed by my wife, my kids, and dozens of my friends and co-workers,
all
singing "Happy Birthday".
And I just sat there...
On the couch...
Naked.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
downloaded frm metacafe.
Take the time to read this one. It may shock you.
Don't peak at the answers!!
2 Tough Questions
Question 1:
If you knew a woman who was pregnant, who had 8 kids already, three who
were deaf, two who were blind, one mentally retarded, and she had
syphilis, would you recommend that she have an abortion?
Read the next question before looking at the response for this one.
Question 2:
It is time to elect a new world leader, and only your vote counts.
Here are the facts about the three candidates. Who would you vote for?
Candidate A.
Associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologist.
He's had two mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day.
Candidate B.
He was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium in
college and drinks a quart of whiskey every evening.
Candidate C
He is a decorated war hero. He's a vegetarian, doesn't smoke, drinks an
occasional beer and never cheated on his wife.
Which of these candidates would be our choice?
Decide first... no peeking, then scroll down for the response.
Candidate A is Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Candidate B is Winston Churchill.
Candidate C is Adolph Hitler.
And, by the way, on your answer to the abortion question:
If you said YES, you just killed Beethoven.
Pretty interesting isn't it? Makes a person think before judging someone.
Wait till you see the end of this note! Keep reading..
Never be afraid to try something new.
Remember:
Amateurs...built the ark.
Professionals...built the Titanic
And Finally, can you imagine working for a company that has a little more
than 500 employees and has the following statistics:
* 29 have been accused of spousal abuse
* 7 have been arrested for fraud
* 19 have been accused of writing bad checks
* 117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses
* 3 have done time for assault
* 71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
* 14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
* 8 have been arrested for shoplifting
* 21 are currently defendants in lawsuits
* 84 have been arrested for drunk driving in the last year...
Can you guess which organization this is?
Give up yet?
It's the 535 members of the United States Congress.
The same group that crank out hundreds of new laws each year designed to
keep the rest of us in line.
Don't peak at the answers!!
2 Tough Questions
Question 1:
If you knew a woman who was pregnant, who had 8 kids already, three who
were deaf, two who were blind, one mentally retarded, and she had
syphilis, would you recommend that she have an abortion?
Read the next question before looking at the response for this one.
Question 2:
It is time to elect a new world leader, and only your vote counts.
Here are the facts about the three candidates. Who would you vote for?
Candidate A.
Associates with crooked politicians, and consults with astrologist.
He's had two mistresses. He also chain smokes and drinks 8 to 10 martinis a day.
Candidate B.
He was kicked out of office twice, sleeps until noon, used opium in
college and drinks a quart of whiskey every evening.
Candidate C
He is a decorated war hero. He's a vegetarian, doesn't smoke, drinks an
occasional beer and never cheated on his wife.
Which of these candidates would be our choice?
Decide first... no peeking, then scroll down for the response.
Candidate A is Franklin D. Roosevelt.
Candidate B is Winston Churchill.
Candidate C is Adolph Hitler.
And, by the way, on your answer to the abortion question:
If you said YES, you just killed Beethoven.
Pretty interesting isn't it? Makes a person think before judging someone.
Wait till you see the end of this note! Keep reading..
Never be afraid to try something new.
Remember:
Amateurs...built the ark.
Professionals...built the Titanic
And Finally, can you imagine working for a company that has a little more
than 500 employees and has the following statistics:
* 29 have been accused of spousal abuse
* 7 have been arrested for fraud
* 19 have been accused of writing bad checks
* 117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses
* 3 have done time for assault
* 71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
* 14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
* 8 have been arrested for shoplifting
* 21 are currently defendants in lawsuits
* 84 have been arrested for drunk driving in the last year...
Can you guess which organization this is?
Give up yet?
It's the 535 members of the United States Congress.
The same group that crank out hundreds of new laws each year designed to
keep the rest of us in line.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
CATHARSIS
( this article is written by my younger brother LUCKY... ENJOY)
CATHARSIS
In my whole school life, I have been surrounded by a bunch of intellectually challenged, philosophically unquestioned, spiritually depleted forms of life. I have never been able to get them understand me; neither have I been able to arouse their curiosity over any of the questions I ask. They are all like a herd of buffaloes, just following what lies ahead, never stopping to think for a second, not because they don’t have a brain but because they’re scared. Life always chases them away and hurriedly they run to death. But they don’t intend to die, not alone. They will take along them anyone who tries to show them ‘LIFE’, to die, to rot in hell, to dream of grass as food and mud as water, to run from much weaker groups of carnivorous and to dance on the beats of lashes. They won’t let you breathe your air. They will choke you; smother your spirit to fight. They will poke you for catechizing the authority; push you away if you try to wake them up to feel the morning aurora. Slowly and steadily you start to lose yourself, you start to feel the gigantic blood vessels in your brain shifting towards your body and your eyes that used to question they very existence of questions themselves are now mugging up the answers.
But NO! I refuse to give up. I refuse to give my body a soul without the spirit. I refuse to be a watch-dog just so that my master can have a sound sleep. I won’t be hindered from my way TO life. I will prove to my greatest Guru that my destiny is not the failure to live but the SUCCESS IN LEAVING life to find a new teacher. A bunch of paid employees won’t be able to brainwash me, a gang of bullies can’t digress me. Even if they peel off my attire of a gillion cells, I won’t be ashamed since I still have my shawl of determination to wrap me up, I haven’t lost my curiosity to keep me warm and I still have platelets to sew up my wounds.
I was born free and in no way shall I be leashed. I will cross the boundaries. I will do the impossibles. I will chase the wind, surround the world. Why just one world? I will walk through dimensions. Use the strings of life, master their sound, create a music that will unfold the papers of parallel universes, see through them, go through them. I will dream beyond every limit, beyond the blue sky and beyond the stars. I will dig out a new black hole, a portal to eternity of bliss where I came from. My home planet. My heartland. My PEACE…
CATHARSIS
In my whole school life, I have been surrounded by a bunch of intellectually challenged, philosophically unquestioned, spiritually depleted forms of life. I have never been able to get them understand me; neither have I been able to arouse their curiosity over any of the questions I ask. They are all like a herd of buffaloes, just following what lies ahead, never stopping to think for a second, not because they don’t have a brain but because they’re scared. Life always chases them away and hurriedly they run to death. But they don’t intend to die, not alone. They will take along them anyone who tries to show them ‘LIFE’, to die, to rot in hell, to dream of grass as food and mud as water, to run from much weaker groups of carnivorous and to dance on the beats of lashes. They won’t let you breathe your air. They will choke you; smother your spirit to fight. They will poke you for catechizing the authority; push you away if you try to wake them up to feel the morning aurora. Slowly and steadily you start to lose yourself, you start to feel the gigantic blood vessels in your brain shifting towards your body and your eyes that used to question they very existence of questions themselves are now mugging up the answers.
But NO! I refuse to give up. I refuse to give my body a soul without the spirit. I refuse to be a watch-dog just so that my master can have a sound sleep. I won’t be hindered from my way TO life. I will prove to my greatest Guru that my destiny is not the failure to live but the SUCCESS IN LEAVING life to find a new teacher. A bunch of paid employees won’t be able to brainwash me, a gang of bullies can’t digress me. Even if they peel off my attire of a gillion cells, I won’t be ashamed since I still have my shawl of determination to wrap me up, I haven’t lost my curiosity to keep me warm and I still have platelets to sew up my wounds.
I was born free and in no way shall I be leashed. I will cross the boundaries. I will do the impossibles. I will chase the wind, surround the world. Why just one world? I will walk through dimensions. Use the strings of life, master their sound, create a music that will unfold the papers of parallel universes, see through them, go through them. I will dream beyond every limit, beyond the blue sky and beyond the stars. I will dig out a new black hole, a portal to eternity of bliss where I came from. My home planet. My heartland. My PEACE…
Friday, May 1, 2009
by black hockey jesus
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Thank You
I was bored so I started thinking about how the environmental crisis would never be solved by mere practice alone because it needed to be accompanied by a revolution in consciousness but I wasn’t sure if the revolution in consciousness would alter behavior or if changing behavior first would usher in the revolution in consciousness. Then Lucy started guzzling a glass of water. Lucy performs everyday acts with an intensity that tends to attract my attention. She just tipped her head back and gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp. She’s got guzzling in her genes. Then she went and did that magic little kid thing where they perform a sweetly simplistic act all shot through with profundity and ancient wisdom.
She pulled the tiny purple cup from her lips and made that exaggerated “Ahhhh” refreshed noise. She held it 12 inches away from her face and admired it with sparkling eyes and a delighted smile. She made me smile. I think the cup smiled too. See. Lucy’s smile was not limited by the bounds of her face. Rather, she created an atmosphere that smiled. Everything in her orbit smiled in the smiling. She set the cup on the kitchen table, leaned into it, and said earnestly:
“Thank You, Cup.”
The animistic world, wherein all objects have souls or are part of one big world soul, has long been replaced by a world full of stupid dead objects. We live in this world of unlively things as a result of the scientific vision of the world somehow achieving the status of “reality”. Instead of a vision among visions, the scientific view elbowed its way into being the way things really are. But there’s a price to pay for being so damn right.
We could stand to learn a few things from pagans and children—simple things like the relation to the world that results from a stance of pure gratitude. The cup is that which contains the source of our thirst’s quenching. And for this Lucy was grateful and found the cup worthy of speech and good manners. Soon, for Lucy, the cup will be stripped of its personified traits and be replaced by a hunk of dead plastic. We’ll call that growing up. Development. She’ll have achieved a more complex level of maturity and she’ll score higher in terms of reality testing.
But imagine what kind of world we’d live in if we were all so grateful for cups. What if we all thanked the chair for so dutifully embracing us after a long day on our feet? The kitchen table deserves your praise! It is not only that which holds your dinner aloft. But it is also binds your family around it. What would happen to these various environmental crises if our notion of what is to be respected extended past a small handful of people? How would the world look? How would we act? Perhaps sorting and taking out the recycling wouldn’t be such a chore or a hassle. It might suddenly be the least we could do. To excitedly walk these things out to the curb toward the next chapter of their service. Thank you.
Thank You
I was bored so I started thinking about how the environmental crisis would never be solved by mere practice alone because it needed to be accompanied by a revolution in consciousness but I wasn’t sure if the revolution in consciousness would alter behavior or if changing behavior first would usher in the revolution in consciousness. Then Lucy started guzzling a glass of water. Lucy performs everyday acts with an intensity that tends to attract my attention. She just tipped her head back and gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp. She’s got guzzling in her genes. Then she went and did that magic little kid thing where they perform a sweetly simplistic act all shot through with profundity and ancient wisdom.
She pulled the tiny purple cup from her lips and made that exaggerated “Ahhhh” refreshed noise. She held it 12 inches away from her face and admired it with sparkling eyes and a delighted smile. She made me smile. I think the cup smiled too. See. Lucy’s smile was not limited by the bounds of her face. Rather, she created an atmosphere that smiled. Everything in her orbit smiled in the smiling. She set the cup on the kitchen table, leaned into it, and said earnestly:
“Thank You, Cup.”
The animistic world, wherein all objects have souls or are part of one big world soul, has long been replaced by a world full of stupid dead objects. We live in this world of unlively things as a result of the scientific vision of the world somehow achieving the status of “reality”. Instead of a vision among visions, the scientific view elbowed its way into being the way things really are. But there’s a price to pay for being so damn right.
We could stand to learn a few things from pagans and children—simple things like the relation to the world that results from a stance of pure gratitude. The cup is that which contains the source of our thirst’s quenching. And for this Lucy was grateful and found the cup worthy of speech and good manners. Soon, for Lucy, the cup will be stripped of its personified traits and be replaced by a hunk of dead plastic. We’ll call that growing up. Development. She’ll have achieved a more complex level of maturity and she’ll score higher in terms of reality testing.
But imagine what kind of world we’d live in if we were all so grateful for cups. What if we all thanked the chair for so dutifully embracing us after a long day on our feet? The kitchen table deserves your praise! It is not only that which holds your dinner aloft. But it is also binds your family around it. What would happen to these various environmental crises if our notion of what is to be respected extended past a small handful of people? How would the world look? How would we act? Perhaps sorting and taking out the recycling wouldn’t be such a chore or a hassle. It might suddenly be the least we could do. To excitedly walk these things out to the curb toward the next chapter of their service. Thank you.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
NIGHT RIDER
( here is a story that was originally written by my brother Lucky and then rewritten by me ...ENJOY XD)(ok ok...i copied his theme DX)
“Hello, it’s Jak Blak, your proposal is accepted Mr.White. Congratulation! We need you sharp at 9 tomorrow morning. Don’t be late! Gud Bye”
White: Man!!! Now I gotta drive this night to reach there on time. What a whack! I better pack my stuffs now.
As white was wrapping his papars, there came a text message saying, “Mr.White, don’t be late. After the review, we’re going straight to the head office. Have a gud nite sleep!”
White: ??? He doesn’t even know I’m out. Mann! I gotta drive whole night. Lady, cover yourself, no more alcohols. I gotta leave now. Here’s your fee!
It was dark, dark as the darkest dungeon could ever be. Stars and moon hidden behind the clouds, and the living trees swaying as if trying to distract his heed from the wheel. If it wasn’t for the torches in the front of his car, he would be no better than a blind man, bumbling without his bamboo cane.
White: Dude! Phew! I need to hold this pressure. So much for the sweet smell of ‘Black Label’. Or should I do it here, behind the bushes? Mmm…
“la la la, moon was a tumor
Earth threw away, blab lab bla,
That f#%ing b*^ch took all my money away”,
He turned on the radio.
He groped into his pocket and probed through the litters of Wrigglies Spearmint. “Ahh…., there’s the last one. Hope it’ll do for my alcoholic smell”
“thudd”
“I just felt a bump on my car!
Have I just run over someone!!!
Have I just killed someone?
Oh lord! Jesus Christ!”
White was too scared to halt and look back. By some means, he kept on driving, breaching all the limits, crossing every boundary created by both: man and nature.
He could feel his heart pumping so fiercely that his pressure must have exceeded 200/160.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. Lord, help me, plz…”
His sweaty hands and shaky feet constantly drifted the car so swiftly as if he was the ‘Speed Racer’. The only thing that played within him was that he had just killed some man and it was his goal to gaol.
“Beep..Beep..Beep”
“What do I hear? Am I awake!
Is this still a dream!!!
Whattt!!!...”
He hit the brakes and thought to himself-“someone has died because of my carelessness. I deserve to be punished. It’s so in the bag”
One of the cops strutted toward him and bent, as Me. White cowered inside.
Looking serious, ”Sire, you shouldn’t have done that. 250$. You seem to be a decent man. Drive slow. You might get in a biiig trouble. And here’s your ticket”
White: What!!! Lord Jesus! Mother Mary! That poor fellow doesn’t even know what has happened!
White slowly unlocked the door and came out. He stood, propped beside his car.
“Officers, there’s a corpse on the highway about 5 miles back. I hit that man.”
The cops paused for a while until one of them burst out laughing and chortled, “That ain’t no man! Just a sspeeed breaker! Once, I did hit that thing and had thought the same. But I didn’t know that somebody else in this world would be as drunk as I am.”
It finally started raining. Mr. White no longer in any pressure, sat down and waited for the dawn.
“Hello, it’s Jak Blak, your proposal is accepted Mr.White. Congratulation! We need you sharp at 9 tomorrow morning. Don’t be late! Gud Bye”
White: Man!!! Now I gotta drive this night to reach there on time. What a whack! I better pack my stuffs now.
As white was wrapping his papars, there came a text message saying, “Mr.White, don’t be late. After the review, we’re going straight to the head office. Have a gud nite sleep!”
White: ??? He doesn’t even know I’m out. Mann! I gotta drive whole night. Lady, cover yourself, no more alcohols. I gotta leave now. Here’s your fee!
It was dark, dark as the darkest dungeon could ever be. Stars and moon hidden behind the clouds, and the living trees swaying as if trying to distract his heed from the wheel. If it wasn’t for the torches in the front of his car, he would be no better than a blind man, bumbling without his bamboo cane.
White: Dude! Phew! I need to hold this pressure. So much for the sweet smell of ‘Black Label’. Or should I do it here, behind the bushes? Mmm…
“la la la, moon was a tumor
Earth threw away, blab lab bla,
That f#%ing b*^ch took all my money away”,
He turned on the radio.
He groped into his pocket and probed through the litters of Wrigglies Spearmint. “Ahh…., there’s the last one. Hope it’ll do for my alcoholic smell”
“thudd”
“I just felt a bump on my car!
Have I just run over someone!!!
Have I just killed someone?
Oh lord! Jesus Christ!”
White was too scared to halt and look back. By some means, he kept on driving, breaching all the limits, crossing every boundary created by both: man and nature.
He could feel his heart pumping so fiercely that his pressure must have exceeded 200/160.
“I don’t know what I’m doing. Lord, help me, plz…”
His sweaty hands and shaky feet constantly drifted the car so swiftly as if he was the ‘Speed Racer’. The only thing that played within him was that he had just killed some man and it was his goal to gaol.
“Beep..Beep..Beep”
“What do I hear? Am I awake!
Is this still a dream!!!
Whattt!!!...”
He hit the brakes and thought to himself-“someone has died because of my carelessness. I deserve to be punished. It’s so in the bag”
One of the cops strutted toward him and bent, as Me. White cowered inside.
Looking serious, ”Sire, you shouldn’t have done that. 250$. You seem to be a decent man. Drive slow. You might get in a biiig trouble. And here’s your ticket”
White: What!!! Lord Jesus! Mother Mary! That poor fellow doesn’t even know what has happened!
White slowly unlocked the door and came out. He stood, propped beside his car.
“Officers, there’s a corpse on the highway about 5 miles back. I hit that man.”
The cops paused for a while until one of them burst out laughing and chortled, “That ain’t no man! Just a sspeeed breaker! Once, I did hit that thing and had thought the same. But I didn’t know that somebody else in this world would be as drunk as I am.”
It finally started raining. Mr. White no longer in any pressure, sat down and waited for the dawn.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Retracing the road
We walked once along
Seems just like a dream
Haunted by your song
I can’t be red like a rose
Or bright like the sun
Loving you is now a fantasy
Like shooting stars from a gun
Seems like we can never be together
Feels like I can never be with you
If only I could…
I would melt the mountains
And drown the ocean
Push the sky higher
Only for a reunion
But can’t be red like a rose
Or bright like the sun
Loving you is just a fantasy
Like shooting stars from a gun.
We walked once along
Seems just like a dream
Haunted by your song
I can’t be red like a rose
Or bright like the sun
Loving you is now a fantasy
Like shooting stars from a gun
Seems like we can never be together
Feels like I can never be with you
If only I could…
I would melt the mountains
And drown the ocean
Push the sky higher
Only for a reunion
But can’t be red like a rose
Or bright like the sun
Loving you is just a fantasy
Like shooting stars from a gun.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
BRIDE
(Ok, i had written this poem abt 7 yrs ago when i was 11 and now i m posting it here. xD)
BRIDE
The precious day of holy crown
A sweet little princess white and brown
In a palace came a day
Marriage of a princess in the month of May
With flower in hand and prince on side
She was the most beautiful country’s bride
Went to the church and had a kiss
For unforgettable day of princess’s miss
Gave a royal party in the whole town
Gave fun and joy by jokers and clown
The only princess of royal crown
A sweet little bride, white and brown.
BRIDE
The precious day of holy crown
A sweet little princess white and brown
In a palace came a day
Marriage of a princess in the month of May
With flower in hand and prince on side
She was the most beautiful country’s bride
Went to the church and had a kiss
For unforgettable day of princess’s miss
Gave a royal party in the whole town
Gave fun and joy by jokers and clown
The only princess of royal crown
A sweet little bride, white and brown.
Monday, March 16, 2009
My Lucky Girl
Remember the days of yore
The road back to your place
A time when i felt new
The youth of my lucky days
You used to look at me
And so quickly look away
I too stole a few glimpses
Thought that was my lucky day
How our hands brushed each other's
While walking back from school
To think that as my lucky day
I must have been a fool
"bye!" last word you'd smile
On the junction, at the dusk
And that voice to my ears
I thought, was my luck
But now no more school
You must have grown tall
The dusk, junction, and the road
Misses my lucky girl...
The road back to your place
A time when i felt new
The youth of my lucky days
You used to look at me
And so quickly look away
I too stole a few glimpses
Thought that was my lucky day
How our hands brushed each other's
While walking back from school
To think that as my lucky day
I must have been a fool
"bye!" last word you'd smile
On the junction, at the dusk
And that voice to my ears
I thought, was my luck
But now no more school
You must have grown tall
The dusk, junction, and the road
Misses my lucky girl...
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
wishes....
i wish i could fly
if i were a bird
i wish i could swim
if i were a fish
i wish i could walk
i wish i could fly
(wishes never end, do they?)
if i were a bird
i wish i could swim
if i were a fish
i wish i could walk
i wish i could fly
(wishes never end, do they?)
Saturday, March 7, 2009
Half empty?....Half full....?
(this piece is from Jo, the adress you can see at the links i follow. i just liked this one and posted in mine aswell, though she doesnot know about it. i hope you like it...:)
I am always amazed by people who go through life acquiring everything and still seeing their glass as half empty, rather than half full. Nothing ever makes them happy. They have it all, but all is not enough. All becomes more, and it is still not enough. Their cup runs over, and still it is not enough. They're constantly depressed, like Eeyore in "Winnie the Pooh". I'm sure you all know people like that.
On a sliding scale of one to ten, I have next to nothing. I certainly don't have all the things that most folks take for granted, even though I have done all the same things everyone else has. I have had losses in my life, but so has everyone else. It's called life. And yet for some weird reason which I do not understand, I don't look at my cup as half empty, but rather half full. It's a choice we all make, and it's a choice I have had to make, or I would be filled with anger, resentment and bitterness -- three emotions that will kill anyone's spirit.
Maybe it is the concept of "the glass half empty" that has led to the world's dire economic situation. Everyone wants more, more, more. Fill that glass up; only a full glass will make people happy. Still not happy? Get more things. My chesterfield is 20 years old. My TV is 15 years old and it still works. I probably should get a new bed -- some day. Don't even ask me how old is my dining room table; I bought it second-hand and had the chairs re-finished 18 years ago. My coffee table is a wicker basket. To my eye, all of these things are beautiful because they're mine. But I also have no debt. Whatsoever.
I don't know the answer. I'm no economist, and I'm certainly no philosopher. I'm just grateful for the few things I have and for the people in my life who care about me, and that makes my cup more than half full.
I am always amazed by people who go through life acquiring everything and still seeing their glass as half empty, rather than half full. Nothing ever makes them happy. They have it all, but all is not enough. All becomes more, and it is still not enough. Their cup runs over, and still it is not enough. They're constantly depressed, like Eeyore in "Winnie the Pooh". I'm sure you all know people like that.
On a sliding scale of one to ten, I have next to nothing. I certainly don't have all the things that most folks take for granted, even though I have done all the same things everyone else has. I have had losses in my life, but so has everyone else. It's called life. And yet for some weird reason which I do not understand, I don't look at my cup as half empty, but rather half full. It's a choice we all make, and it's a choice I have had to make, or I would be filled with anger, resentment and bitterness -- three emotions that will kill anyone's spirit.
Maybe it is the concept of "the glass half empty" that has led to the world's dire economic situation. Everyone wants more, more, more. Fill that glass up; only a full glass will make people happy. Still not happy? Get more things. My chesterfield is 20 years old. My TV is 15 years old and it still works. I probably should get a new bed -- some day. Don't even ask me how old is my dining room table; I bought it second-hand and had the chairs re-finished 18 years ago. My coffee table is a wicker basket. To my eye, all of these things are beautiful because they're mine. But I also have no debt. Whatsoever.
I don't know the answer. I'm no economist, and I'm certainly no philosopher. I'm just grateful for the few things I have and for the people in my life who care about me, and that makes my cup more than half full.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
WHAT LIFE!
When the world was born just
After I opened my eyes first
I was not alive
One blink, I sensed the room dry
No joy, no fun, no sorrow, no cry
I was not dead
Could see but couldn’t think
The world that blows in the room that shrink
Then I felt
World is living! It’s dying in my eye
Its existence is a hidden lie
Now I left
Hopes that bloom to turn into gloom
Fruits of vast world of shrinking room
At last, please tell me if
I’m lost deep in the course of end
Of this ball of ash that blows in wind?
After I opened my eyes first
I was not alive
One blink, I sensed the room dry
No joy, no fun, no sorrow, no cry
I was not dead
Could see but couldn’t think
The world that blows in the room that shrink
Then I felt
World is living! It’s dying in my eye
Its existence is a hidden lie
Now I left
Hopes that bloom to turn into gloom
Fruits of vast world of shrinking room
At last, please tell me if
I’m lost deep in the course of end
Of this ball of ash that blows in wind?
Monday, March 2, 2009
Gen article
this is an excerpt frm Gen's 'WAITING TO BE SAVED...'
The reality was that it was sadder for us to witness his disability then it was for him to live with it because likewise, we can’t imagine our lives being any other way. Would his life really be better with a corporate job and a blackberry in hand or can fulfillment still be found in watching the snow fall? Would his life genuinely be more worthwhile with bigger dreams and bigger vision instead of contentment in the small joys and abundance in everyday life? It’s a classic case of having tunnel vision but, as North Americans, I think that it’s begun to reach out into far more than just the boy across the street. It lead me consider how many other things we impose our sense of happiness upon assuming that our “shoes” are the only ones worth walking in.
This very question also brought about my very mixed emotions about the Middle East and Islamic culture. We, as a society, are very quick to judge their motivations and intentions. We consider them violent, oppressed and behind the times socially. I agree that there are elements of their culture that I struggle with and violence is certainly one of them. I am appalled at the idea of stoning a person because of their infidelities but I’m equally appalled at the idea of dragging a black man behind a pick up truck because of the colour of his skin…and that happened in the U.S. We look at them and see mistreatment of women and distortion of religion. For all we know, they may look at us and see misguided youth and a value system so deteriorated that we have entire magazines devoted to celebrity gossip. We see them covered head to toe in a veil as a lack of rights and they may see us without enough self-respect to dress for any purpose other than sex. We assume that all of these things, because we don’t share them, must mean that they are unhappy. We assume that their lack of reality television and wardrobe attire to choose from must mean that they feel deprivation that we, of course, need to rescue them from. To take over another country under a cloak of good intention and to assume that our way of doing things would suit them better poses a lot of questions for me. First and foremost, it sparks the question of whether or not our way even works for us nonetheless anyone else?
On that note, let’s take this opportunity to look at our lives for a moment; we are a society of great wealth and consumption. We work long hours and grow up too fast. We are connected to each other at all times while never really being connected to anyone at all. We are in a constant hurry to get to places that they don’t generally want to be. We have the convenience of doing our grocery shopping from home and all the while, we’ve never been more stressed. Our bodies are filled with disease and our minds are filled with dis-ease. We aim for bigger houses, faster cars and fancier televisions when we should be aiming for broader perspectives, grandeur experiences and better relationships…and I don’t mean with our cell phones.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging the state of how we live our lives. It’s all relative and our necessities sit pretty low on the hierarchy of needs. More importantly though, I feed the beast in my own way as well but what I’m questioning is whether or not our morals and values are really the appropriate measuring stick by which all others should be judged? We live lives that seem privileged and innovative. We live lives that seem a step above the rest but we also live lives that are out of touch with the very basics of what it means to be human. Life is simply not meant to be lived in nothing but a frenzy of technology and corporate ladders.
The reality was that it was sadder for us to witness his disability then it was for him to live with it because likewise, we can’t imagine our lives being any other way. Would his life really be better with a corporate job and a blackberry in hand or can fulfillment still be found in watching the snow fall? Would his life genuinely be more worthwhile with bigger dreams and bigger vision instead of contentment in the small joys and abundance in everyday life? It’s a classic case of having tunnel vision but, as North Americans, I think that it’s begun to reach out into far more than just the boy across the street. It lead me consider how many other things we impose our sense of happiness upon assuming that our “shoes” are the only ones worth walking in.
This very question also brought about my very mixed emotions about the Middle East and Islamic culture. We, as a society, are very quick to judge their motivations and intentions. We consider them violent, oppressed and behind the times socially. I agree that there are elements of their culture that I struggle with and violence is certainly one of them. I am appalled at the idea of stoning a person because of their infidelities but I’m equally appalled at the idea of dragging a black man behind a pick up truck because of the colour of his skin…and that happened in the U.S. We look at them and see mistreatment of women and distortion of religion. For all we know, they may look at us and see misguided youth and a value system so deteriorated that we have entire magazines devoted to celebrity gossip. We see them covered head to toe in a veil as a lack of rights and they may see us without enough self-respect to dress for any purpose other than sex. We assume that all of these things, because we don’t share them, must mean that they are unhappy. We assume that their lack of reality television and wardrobe attire to choose from must mean that they feel deprivation that we, of course, need to rescue them from. To take over another country under a cloak of good intention and to assume that our way of doing things would suit them better poses a lot of questions for me. First and foremost, it sparks the question of whether or not our way even works for us nonetheless anyone else?
On that note, let’s take this opportunity to look at our lives for a moment; we are a society of great wealth and consumption. We work long hours and grow up too fast. We are connected to each other at all times while never really being connected to anyone at all. We are in a constant hurry to get to places that they don’t generally want to be. We have the convenience of doing our grocery shopping from home and all the while, we’ve never been more stressed. Our bodies are filled with disease and our minds are filled with dis-ease. We aim for bigger houses, faster cars and fancier televisions when we should be aiming for broader perspectives, grandeur experiences and better relationships…and I don’t mean with our cell phones.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not judging the state of how we live our lives. It’s all relative and our necessities sit pretty low on the hierarchy of needs. More importantly though, I feed the beast in my own way as well but what I’m questioning is whether or not our morals and values are really the appropriate measuring stick by which all others should be judged? We live lives that seem privileged and innovative. We live lives that seem a step above the rest but we also live lives that are out of touch with the very basics of what it means to be human. Life is simply not meant to be lived in nothing but a frenzy of technology and corporate ladders.
voices-by Gen
voices...
Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were young?
I spent a lot of time by myself when I was a little girl, mostly because of school; the bus ride was long, the bus stop was far and I usually had a couple of hours to myself before my Mom arrived home from work. I can’t remember how old I was but at one point in time, my Mom and I moved to a newer neighborhood in London and our home was still surrounded by wide open spaces that hadn’t yet been developed. I used to have to walk through a large field to get from my bus stop to our house and the walk was about a kilometer in distance – not far as an adult but certainly a hike for a little kid, especially through an empty field and with a vivid imagination!
It was during this time that I met Penelope. She was my imaginary friend. She was older and wiser and made the time by myself a little less lonely. At first, she was only around during my walks to and from the bus stops. Then she would appear on nights when I would lie awake in my bed unable to sleep. Eventually, she was always just kind of there…lingering by my side. She would talk me out of being scared or help me to mentally prepare myself when I knew I was about to get in trouble for something. She tried to help me with my math homework too but we both knew that was a lost cause!
In grade six, just after my Grandmother died, I started talking to her instead. I would spend countless hours conversing with her and asking for her advice. I missed her immensely and needed someone to listen to me. I needed someone who understood the people around me better than I did and someone who could guide me through the endless web of adolescence. Her absence was difficult for me and talking to her as though she was right next to me made the pain seem more bearable.
It wasn’t until a desperate night in grade eleven that I spoke to the God for the first time. I was tired, in mind and body, and desperately needed my life to be different. The last couple of years had been tumultuous for my Mother and I and few things seemed like they offered any stability anymore. I remember lying in my bed that night sobbing and begging God to make things different. After crying myself to sleep, I awoke the next morning feeling more peaceful than I had in a long time. Life proceeded to get even harder for the next few years but I continued to talk to God and every now and then, I think that He even talked back.
As you can see, I have a long history of hearing voices! Some people call this mental illness and in a mad attempt to convince myself that I’m not a schizophrenic, I prefer to call it the angels assigned to my case! We do a lot of things to ensure that we don’t feel alone in this world and why shouldn’t we? The love that surrounds us isn’t always so obvious and in some ways, these people…these voices, are merely our calmer and more comforting selves stepping in to take over the reigns; Our alter ego, our divine creation, our higher being…the self we long to be but can’t dig ourselves out of our doubt, our fear and our sorrow long enough to uncover them. We often need to hear things from somewhere else in order to truly listen.
I spoke to God a lot this past weekend. I pleaded in desperation for words…any words. I longed for words that weren’t my own and words that could somehow make this better. While I concede that I may be completely delusional, I’m also willing to testify that when I calmed down long enough to be still, I truly felt someone hold my face gently in their hands and whisper in my ear, “This too shall pass.”
Even more miraculous still were the many voices that followed; the very real voices of the people we love, the people who reached out to us in our sorrow and who asked to carry the weight for us. The people who cried with us and the people cried for us. I am overwhelmed at the amount of love that comes from grief and because of that, I am also forced to wonder if part of the reason such things happen at all is to simply remind us that whether we hear voices or not…we are never alone in this world. Never…
Did you ever have an imaginary friend when you were young?
I spent a lot of time by myself when I was a little girl, mostly because of school; the bus ride was long, the bus stop was far and I usually had a couple of hours to myself before my Mom arrived home from work. I can’t remember how old I was but at one point in time, my Mom and I moved to a newer neighborhood in London and our home was still surrounded by wide open spaces that hadn’t yet been developed. I used to have to walk through a large field to get from my bus stop to our house and the walk was about a kilometer in distance – not far as an adult but certainly a hike for a little kid, especially through an empty field and with a vivid imagination!
It was during this time that I met Penelope. She was my imaginary friend. She was older and wiser and made the time by myself a little less lonely. At first, she was only around during my walks to and from the bus stops. Then she would appear on nights when I would lie awake in my bed unable to sleep. Eventually, she was always just kind of there…lingering by my side. She would talk me out of being scared or help me to mentally prepare myself when I knew I was about to get in trouble for something. She tried to help me with my math homework too but we both knew that was a lost cause!
In grade six, just after my Grandmother died, I started talking to her instead. I would spend countless hours conversing with her and asking for her advice. I missed her immensely and needed someone to listen to me. I needed someone who understood the people around me better than I did and someone who could guide me through the endless web of adolescence. Her absence was difficult for me and talking to her as though she was right next to me made the pain seem more bearable.
It wasn’t until a desperate night in grade eleven that I spoke to the God for the first time. I was tired, in mind and body, and desperately needed my life to be different. The last couple of years had been tumultuous for my Mother and I and few things seemed like they offered any stability anymore. I remember lying in my bed that night sobbing and begging God to make things different. After crying myself to sleep, I awoke the next morning feeling more peaceful than I had in a long time. Life proceeded to get even harder for the next few years but I continued to talk to God and every now and then, I think that He even talked back.
As you can see, I have a long history of hearing voices! Some people call this mental illness and in a mad attempt to convince myself that I’m not a schizophrenic, I prefer to call it the angels assigned to my case! We do a lot of things to ensure that we don’t feel alone in this world and why shouldn’t we? The love that surrounds us isn’t always so obvious and in some ways, these people…these voices, are merely our calmer and more comforting selves stepping in to take over the reigns; Our alter ego, our divine creation, our higher being…the self we long to be but can’t dig ourselves out of our doubt, our fear and our sorrow long enough to uncover them. We often need to hear things from somewhere else in order to truly listen.
I spoke to God a lot this past weekend. I pleaded in desperation for words…any words. I longed for words that weren’t my own and words that could somehow make this better. While I concede that I may be completely delusional, I’m also willing to testify that when I calmed down long enough to be still, I truly felt someone hold my face gently in their hands and whisper in my ear, “This too shall pass.”
Even more miraculous still were the many voices that followed; the very real voices of the people we love, the people who reached out to us in our sorrow and who asked to carry the weight for us. The people who cried with us and the people cried for us. I am overwhelmed at the amount of love that comes from grief and because of that, I am also forced to wonder if part of the reason such things happen at all is to simply remind us that whether we hear voices or not…we are never alone in this world. Never…
my grampa says....
Now the wrinkles appear
as i smile
Back then i could swim all Nile
Now the spine bows
as i stand
back then i could walk on hand
Now the ear deafens
as i hear
back then it was all loud and clear
Now the gum joins
as i chew
Back then i could crush a date in two
Now the skin bruises
as i lie
Back then the whole floor was my
Now the wrinkles remain
as i breathe
may be.....
Back then i was same, but blithe
as i smile
Back then i could swim all Nile
Now the spine bows
as i stand
back then i could walk on hand
Now the ear deafens
as i hear
back then it was all loud and clear
Now the gum joins
as i chew
Back then i could crush a date in two
Now the skin bruises
as i lie
Back then the whole floor was my
Now the wrinkles remain
as i breathe
may be.....
Back then i was same, but blithe
Sunday, March 1, 2009
faith and religion
2-I think that it’s worth mentioning that I think there is a very big difference between faith and religion. I believe that my faith is my relationship with God and that my religion is {one of} the means in which I celebrate that faith. Faith can exist without religion and religion {sadly} can exist without faith. I know many people whose faith is dictated by their religion. I am not one of those people. My faith existed long before I ever stepped foot in a church and will continue to do so.- Gen, otawa, Ontario, canada
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
riddles...
This poem is written by my friend Neetish Pradhan.
Please read this poem, this is my favorite one.
my thoughts......
My thoughts are hidden
Lost in forbidden lands
Ridden with riddles
I think, I cannot
I cannot think
My thoughts betray me
Run off into the hidden corners of my mind
They are numerous and they all hide
If I look for them in one place….
I cannot look in one place
My thoughts are scattered
And so is my mind
But if I look, tumbling blindly into one place
They trample off to another
I know not where they go
And without thoughts I cannot think
My thoughts are hidden
Hidden in the void that is my mind
Void of thoughts, empty, lost….
Lost in forbidden lands
I am lost,
And I cannot think
For my thoughts are hidden…..
Please read this poem, this is my favorite one.
my thoughts......
My thoughts are hidden
Lost in forbidden lands
Ridden with riddles
I think, I cannot
I cannot think
My thoughts betray me
Run off into the hidden corners of my mind
They are numerous and they all hide
If I look for them in one place….
I cannot look in one place
My thoughts are scattered
And so is my mind
But if I look, tumbling blindly into one place
They trample off to another
I know not where they go
And without thoughts I cannot think
My thoughts are hidden
Hidden in the void that is my mind
Void of thoughts, empty, lost….
Lost in forbidden lands
I am lost,
And I cannot think
For my thoughts are hidden…..
Thursday, February 19, 2009
does she have a crush on me??
……have been listening to love songs. The music triggering my senses. In such a state, can’t stay idle anymore, just staring at the ceiling, so I have made up my mind. I will now spin yarns and say that these are what really happened and someday, sometime, who knows….? I might be reeling these anecdotes of a high school crush, and my readers will be picturing it as an amusing, romantic story that they can somehow associate themselves with….
She walks down the corridor, takes a sharp turn at the corner, holding a few neatly covered books in her beautifully manicured hands, a pink shawl over her buxom breasts and curvy back…. She suddenly halts her pace, stares with her dark eyelashes right through my eyes in a smiling gape. I too share the glance for a few seconds collecting my memories of where I had seen her before. It strikes my cranial nerves...oh yea….
She is the runner up in some pageant hunt. May be she gaped at my unkempt, shaggy, curly, rumpled, celestial hair [exaggerating] and wondered, “what the heaven is right with this world!”
That was all about how she (miss runner up) and I got to see each other for the first time (and the last time). And then we walked our own way.
There was this girl, Sarah, in my class. She has a sleeky silky light brown hair, her eyes…. Could never see them through the powered specs, her dresses- shirt and pant, sometimes t-shirt and pant. Her complexion – white, bright glowing white as if sun was burrowing her light, and her calcium white teeth- always hidden by her soft smile.
I was like any other guy, I mean like any other C-grade guys who would have never had their practicals signed on the required date and got red markings for missing almost 60 % of the classes. Sarah, straight A. you gotta see her penmanship; you will stop writing and start typing instead.
She walks into the class room, in a sinuous grace of a cat [exaggerating again]. ineffable feelings of attraction surging up through my spine. But I had to subdue and disguise my emotions, act stoic while brooding about her all day. Oh…, how I wished to talk to her, be close to her and see her from a nearer distance. We were already in IInd year and yet still, I was oblivious to her in a class of 54 students. Why wouldn’t god make my bench closer to hers in defiance to the teacher who had put us in the opposite corners of the room, where she couldn’t even hear my snoring in the class…!
Busted!!! I got caught for bunking the class while hiding in the library in order to copy the practical assignments. Straight to the Reverend Antony (principal of our college) for the third time already. I had to do something now because the practical file of my friend who had lent that to me was confiscated. And still I had botany and physics practicals remaining to be copied (from somebody who already got them signed and up to date).
There, an A student Sarah had all her practicals up to date and approved. Besides, now none of my friends would loan me their practical. I mustered up all my courage, took a deep breath and headed toward her, asked her straight,” Sarah, could you lend me your practicals?” to my astonishment, she nodded “yes”. I bet her ear drums could get the accelerated beat of my heart, and since I have this sanguine complexion, I couldn’t stop myself going all red, right up to my ears.
That’s how we started to talk to each other, though it was always my initiating; and the topic, of course, was about me burrowing her practicals and other assignments. But there was no other form of discourses whatsoever and the happening conversations only had my asking to her and Sarah lending her files to me. How I wished so hard that we could have some quality time together…
I never got more of her luring timbre after the final board exam. Only when I dreamt, I got to see her.
“Her angelic face gilded in the morning dew
She endowed with 32 virtues that the heavens brew
But only in my dream was it true
And the only dream I always wanted to pass through”
How I hoped that the dream would morph into reality. My pathos, poignant melancholy,… my pathetic condition.
While chatting, I met one of my college buddy. I got Sarah’s email address from him. I added her. She accepted. And then it started.
I am a boy, a boy who barely speaks to any girls. She was the only girl I had accosted to. Wait...! I also had nice terms with another girl, Saloni who was Sarah’s friend and girl friend of my very good pal Lucky. Though shy in person, I am very good at chatting. I am like master of words when it comes to virtual society (cyber world) [still exaggerating].
Sarah and I chatted a few minutes about our academic future plans. I asked her mobile number. We shared out numbers. And that’s how I got the phone number of a girl for the first time in my 18 year old life.
It was the arrival of the New Year, the bell gonged 12. I was sleeping like a polar bear, until this freaking scream of a guy ranting ‘Incoming’ which would go ultrasonic as the pitch sharpened along the ranting (which is my ring tone by the way) broke my slumber. As I pressed the ‘miss call list’ button and looked at who dared to wake me up, my eyes widened and pupils dilated. It was Sarah herself who miss-called me. My heart was pounding harder and harder trying to blast my diaphragm, and my mind was unable to think of anything productive.
I just rolled my eye-balls to the back of my head and tried to sleep. It was hard to believe that what just happened wasn’t a part of my dream.
I woke up at 4am and send her an SMS saying “may your abode be bright and radiating even in the nights of load shedding, Happy New Year”. (I had sent the same message to all my friends whose numbers were saved in my mobile. But she was the only girl in there).
Morning 7am, I got a message. It was her again, replying
“gudmornin n happy new yr!! was gr8 2 receive ur msg, stil remember d coll days n ur swt smile. Keep smiling”.
I paused for a while. Couldn’t believe my eyes. I was a free spirit flying higher and higher. I smiled the whole morning. My day was done. For the first time, reality seemed to be more beautiful that the dream.
I got her miss call again after a few days at the midnight. It had scared me, so I sent her this:
“hey! U cald me?
Mis u havin around, but u scard me now. Hope u r fine, I’m worried abt u. was it u who cald me or did sb else usd yo cel?
Nyway, hav fun!
Plz let me kno If u cald me, gud nite!”
I felt so stupid jackass after I re-read what I had just sent. But I was really scared coz I was not used to any calls at the midnight, usually at the time when I would be having a nightmare. And the ring tone itself was scarier.
Do you wanna know what she sent me back?
“it’s me yar. Y u scard? It’s ur fren Sarah n m doin prty gud.
It was a miscal 2 remind u of me.
Mis u 2 n ur cute smile. Wonder when I’l get 2 c it again! Wel take care. :)”.
Then I changed my ring tone and put a special love song ‘I believe’ from Korean romantic film ‘My Sassy Girl’ ascribed to her number. So whenever I had ‘I believe’ playing in my mobile, I would know it was her.
While I was still waiting for the results of back-paper of the subjects I had flunked in, she had already been admitted to the best engineering college of Nepal. I congratulated her for getting into the coveted college, and asked how her days were. Do you know what she sent me back?
“me doin fine. Wel, col is ok bt mis Xaviers. Mis u guys a lot. Keep in touch n tc.
N keep smiling n keep rockin”
It was Jan28. I stopped sending her messages or miss-calls because I was hurt a bit by the ‘guys’ part. I felt as if I was just one of the many guys in the crowd, and I felt that I meant nothing special to her. But she sent me miss-calls on Feb5 and finally, on the night of Feb14, V-day, at the midnight again.
This was flattering to me than ever. I just got a miss-call, that on the V-day, from the least expected person. I couldn’t stop grinning and flashing out my rabbit white teeth. Butterfly fluttering around me, jingle bells on my ears…. I was absolutely mesmerized, just by her miss-call, probably because that was from somebody I wanted to be with, most probably because that was my first time getting some attention on a Valentine’s Day.
I sent her an SMS saying “happy V-nite. Have a swt dream n take care”. And within a few minutes, incoming along with piano of ‘I believe’,
“Same 2 u n thank u.
U too have a sound slp n the swtst dream (jus like u)!”
Her perfectly sweet SMS bowled me duck. But again I argued to myself that it was just my fancy. Why would she have a crush on me anyway? it was hard to fathom what she meant to imply. I desperately needed to extricate myself from this unwarranted crush.
Every time she gave me a miss-call, it induced all the emotions that lied inert before. I used to moon over and over again, on the messages she sent.
How I wanted to message her-
“My embrace will keep you warm
In the glacial cold
My breath will fan you a zephyr
In the scalding hot”
But I didn’t.
The fear of getting rejected hovered over the tangled nerve circuit of my practically empty skull.
How I wished to write-
“I am zapped by the pangs of doting beauty
And that beauty is you…….”
But instead I resorted to “I admire you”
She replied me back “I admire you too...”
That’s all that happened till now.
I guess something is better to be implied, than to be spoken out. I could do a PhD in that one line message I just got.
She walks down the corridor, takes a sharp turn at the corner, holding a few neatly covered books in her beautifully manicured hands, a pink shawl over her buxom breasts and curvy back…. She suddenly halts her pace, stares with her dark eyelashes right through my eyes in a smiling gape. I too share the glance for a few seconds collecting my memories of where I had seen her before. It strikes my cranial nerves...oh yea….
She is the runner up in some pageant hunt. May be she gaped at my unkempt, shaggy, curly, rumpled, celestial hair [exaggerating] and wondered, “what the heaven is right with this world!”
That was all about how she (miss runner up) and I got to see each other for the first time (and the last time). And then we walked our own way.
There was this girl, Sarah, in my class. She has a sleeky silky light brown hair, her eyes…. Could never see them through the powered specs, her dresses- shirt and pant, sometimes t-shirt and pant. Her complexion – white, bright glowing white as if sun was burrowing her light, and her calcium white teeth- always hidden by her soft smile.
I was like any other guy, I mean like any other C-grade guys who would have never had their practicals signed on the required date and got red markings for missing almost 60 % of the classes. Sarah, straight A. you gotta see her penmanship; you will stop writing and start typing instead.
She walks into the class room, in a sinuous grace of a cat [exaggerating again]. ineffable feelings of attraction surging up through my spine. But I had to subdue and disguise my emotions, act stoic while brooding about her all day. Oh…, how I wished to talk to her, be close to her and see her from a nearer distance. We were already in IInd year and yet still, I was oblivious to her in a class of 54 students. Why wouldn’t god make my bench closer to hers in defiance to the teacher who had put us in the opposite corners of the room, where she couldn’t even hear my snoring in the class…!
Busted!!! I got caught for bunking the class while hiding in the library in order to copy the practical assignments. Straight to the Reverend Antony (principal of our college) for the third time already. I had to do something now because the practical file of my friend who had lent that to me was confiscated. And still I had botany and physics practicals remaining to be copied (from somebody who already got them signed and up to date).
There, an A student Sarah had all her practicals up to date and approved. Besides, now none of my friends would loan me their practical. I mustered up all my courage, took a deep breath and headed toward her, asked her straight,” Sarah, could you lend me your practicals?” to my astonishment, she nodded “yes”. I bet her ear drums could get the accelerated beat of my heart, and since I have this sanguine complexion, I couldn’t stop myself going all red, right up to my ears.
That’s how we started to talk to each other, though it was always my initiating; and the topic, of course, was about me burrowing her practicals and other assignments. But there was no other form of discourses whatsoever and the happening conversations only had my asking to her and Sarah lending her files to me. How I wished so hard that we could have some quality time together…
I never got more of her luring timbre after the final board exam. Only when I dreamt, I got to see her.
“Her angelic face gilded in the morning dew
She endowed with 32 virtues that the heavens brew
But only in my dream was it true
And the only dream I always wanted to pass through”
How I hoped that the dream would morph into reality. My pathos, poignant melancholy,… my pathetic condition.
While chatting, I met one of my college buddy. I got Sarah’s email address from him. I added her. She accepted. And then it started.
I am a boy, a boy who barely speaks to any girls. She was the only girl I had accosted to. Wait...! I also had nice terms with another girl, Saloni who was Sarah’s friend and girl friend of my very good pal Lucky. Though shy in person, I am very good at chatting. I am like master of words when it comes to virtual society (cyber world) [still exaggerating].
Sarah and I chatted a few minutes about our academic future plans. I asked her mobile number. We shared out numbers. And that’s how I got the phone number of a girl for the first time in my 18 year old life.
It was the arrival of the New Year, the bell gonged 12. I was sleeping like a polar bear, until this freaking scream of a guy ranting ‘Incoming’ which would go ultrasonic as the pitch sharpened along the ranting (which is my ring tone by the way) broke my slumber. As I pressed the ‘miss call list’ button and looked at who dared to wake me up, my eyes widened and pupils dilated. It was Sarah herself who miss-called me. My heart was pounding harder and harder trying to blast my diaphragm, and my mind was unable to think of anything productive.
I just rolled my eye-balls to the back of my head and tried to sleep. It was hard to believe that what just happened wasn’t a part of my dream.
I woke up at 4am and send her an SMS saying “may your abode be bright and radiating even in the nights of load shedding, Happy New Year”. (I had sent the same message to all my friends whose numbers were saved in my mobile. But she was the only girl in there).
Morning 7am, I got a message. It was her again, replying
“gudmornin n happy new yr!! was gr8 2 receive ur msg, stil remember d coll days n ur swt smile. Keep smiling”.
I paused for a while. Couldn’t believe my eyes. I was a free spirit flying higher and higher. I smiled the whole morning. My day was done. For the first time, reality seemed to be more beautiful that the dream.
I got her miss call again after a few days at the midnight. It had scared me, so I sent her this:
“hey! U cald me?
Mis u havin around, but u scard me now. Hope u r fine, I’m worried abt u. was it u who cald me or did sb else usd yo cel?
Nyway, hav fun!
Plz let me kno If u cald me, gud nite!”
I felt so stupid jackass after I re-read what I had just sent. But I was really scared coz I was not used to any calls at the midnight, usually at the time when I would be having a nightmare. And the ring tone itself was scarier.
Do you wanna know what she sent me back?
“it’s me yar. Y u scard? It’s ur fren Sarah n m doin prty gud.
It was a miscal 2 remind u of me.
Mis u 2 n ur cute smile. Wonder when I’l get 2 c it again! Wel take care. :)”.
Then I changed my ring tone and put a special love song ‘I believe’ from Korean romantic film ‘My Sassy Girl’ ascribed to her number. So whenever I had ‘I believe’ playing in my mobile, I would know it was her.
While I was still waiting for the results of back-paper of the subjects I had flunked in, she had already been admitted to the best engineering college of Nepal. I congratulated her for getting into the coveted college, and asked how her days were. Do you know what she sent me back?
“me doin fine. Wel, col is ok bt mis Xaviers. Mis u guys a lot. Keep in touch n tc.
N keep smiling n keep rockin”
It was Jan28. I stopped sending her messages or miss-calls because I was hurt a bit by the ‘guys’ part. I felt as if I was just one of the many guys in the crowd, and I felt that I meant nothing special to her. But she sent me miss-calls on Feb5 and finally, on the night of Feb14, V-day, at the midnight again.
This was flattering to me than ever. I just got a miss-call, that on the V-day, from the least expected person. I couldn’t stop grinning and flashing out my rabbit white teeth. Butterfly fluttering around me, jingle bells on my ears…. I was absolutely mesmerized, just by her miss-call, probably because that was from somebody I wanted to be with, most probably because that was my first time getting some attention on a Valentine’s Day.
I sent her an SMS saying “happy V-nite. Have a swt dream n take care”. And within a few minutes, incoming along with piano of ‘I believe’,
“Same 2 u n thank u.
U too have a sound slp n the swtst dream (jus like u)!”
Her perfectly sweet SMS bowled me duck. But again I argued to myself that it was just my fancy. Why would she have a crush on me anyway? it was hard to fathom what she meant to imply. I desperately needed to extricate myself from this unwarranted crush.
Every time she gave me a miss-call, it induced all the emotions that lied inert before. I used to moon over and over again, on the messages she sent.
How I wanted to message her-
“My embrace will keep you warm
In the glacial cold
My breath will fan you a zephyr
In the scalding hot”
But I didn’t.
The fear of getting rejected hovered over the tangled nerve circuit of my practically empty skull.
How I wished to write-
“I am zapped by the pangs of doting beauty
And that beauty is you…….”
But instead I resorted to “I admire you”
She replied me back “I admire you too...”
That’s all that happened till now.
I guess something is better to be implied, than to be spoken out. I could do a PhD in that one line message I just got.
Monday, February 16, 2009
it started with a homemade card
(( this story is attributed to my fren ' Naughty Dog '. i really love this story, kinda reminds me of my schooldays honestly...))
It started with a Homemade Card
By micman60
AN: Hi, and welcome to my 1st fanfic based in the real world. ALL the names are straight out of my life, but the scenarios are just made up. To tell you the truth i DID make a homemade card for the girl in this story, but ended up putting it near 1 of her friend's bags with a note asking it be delivered to her. I don't know if she got it. Enjoy.
AN2: EVERYTHING in this chapter happened until the card giving
Chapter 1: Valentine's Day
It was a cold friday the 13th of Febuary. The school decided to run a service where you could pay for a rose, song or poem and they would be delivered through classtime. I was a little short of cash and couldn't pay for the poem i wrote for her.
Jade.
Now don't get me wrong, poems are great. but they aren't really up my alley. the last poem i wrote involved a dog, a squirrel, a carcrusher and a woodchipper. But i studied for a week just to write this one. i named it "Ode to Jade".
Jade. A good friend to all.
A wonder, mysterious in a way.
Impossible to look away.
Be my Valentine
See? Short but good. Anyway, i got the idea the day before during math class. Mr Rothie was teaching fractions. I remembered that it was nearly Valentine's Day, and i would need to do something this year to boost my self confidence. the year before when i made a card for someone else. it didn't really turn out too well (Translation: i ended up emoing around for the rest of the year), but i knew this year would be better. ...Even though it was gonna be friday the 13th. please don't question my logic.
That lesson, i got out a book i just scribbled in and tore out some of the cardboard cover. i got out my glue stick and some paper and glued it to the cardboard so i could write easier. With a small bit of book cardboard i made a heart shape and coloured it red. then i stuck it on the card, writing "Happy" up the top and "Valentine's Day!" down the bottom.
In the middle i wrote "I hope our hearts can meet someday", followed by another heart below it. below THAT was "From a secret admirer." I admired my handywork before writing the ode on the back.
As soon as me, my mother and my sister got home, Rebecca reminded Mum about her Centrelink apointment, and suddenly i was home alone. i went onto anime forum, then went and got a small envelope and my trusty red texta, writing "Jade" on the front before drawing love hearts around it.
As i unpeeled the sticky back, i wondered of this was a good idea. i mean, what if a repeat of last year happened?
[FLASHBACK]
The final bell rung. The school day had ended. Time was up. Because of my cowardice, i had failed to give "Her" the card. i dropped it in the bin, vowing never to love again.
[END FLASHBACK]
But this person was the one, i could feel it in my heart. there was something about that girl, a mystery. and i was gonna find out. Sealing the envelope, i headed to the computer as my family walked through the door.
Next day, letter in my pencil case, i strode into school, as confident as i could be. I sat my way through 2 classes before geography, the only subject where me and Jade shared a classroom. My teacher Mr Watson said he misread his timetable and we had to help him set up the All Weather Shelter for something.
There were only 2 good chances and i blew them. We were walking down to the hall and i saw her bag was unzipped. i thought 'Now's the chance!' but i thought i would have a better one. Inside the hall, i saw her bag and thought maybe i could drop it as i walk by. Once again i hesitated. Chance missed.
[THE REST IS FANTASY]
It was 5 minutes until the bell for the special activities and i couldn't find Jade anywhere. 4 minutes and i had looked nearly everywhere. 3 minutes and i had seen her run from the canteen, tears running from her face. 2. i tried to catch up but couldn't. so i did all i could. i shouted "JADE!". 1. She looked around and stopped. by the time i made it to her, there were 10 seconds left. "Here. Happy Valentines." was all i managed to get out as a rush of adrenaline hit me. as she looked at it, i kissed her cheek before rushing off again.
We were asked to line up in rolecall position and to choose from 2 activities: a movie (WALL-E) or a "concert." i chose the movie. As i went in and sat down, i wondered if i had done the right thing. Maybe it was too soon. and as i pondered, Jade sat next to me. i was oblivious until she said."Hi."
I nearly fell out of my chair. She was sitting next to me. In a movie partially about romance. After i gave her a card. "H...Hi." i stuttered nervously, trying to regain my posture. We sat in silence for a few seconds before she said "That card was really sweet. Thank you.". I said "No problem"
"You know, i was gonna get you a card, but i was a little bit short on money." she said, her hair glowing in the light from the windows. "I never thought of making one. I guess i should give you something in return". "You don't have to, really." i replied, my knees shaking and thus giving me away. Noticing this, she said just audibly " No, i insist."
Before i knew it, our lips were locked in a passionate embrace. All i really did was sit there in pure shock. i did NOT plan on this happening. But before i knew it i was returning the favor. "Look! Jade's got a boyfriend!" Someone yelled. Soon the whole auditorium was cheering. as we broke apart, i whispered "Thank you" gently into her ear. "No problem." she replied as she put her head on my sholder as the movie started.
THE END
AN: Those last few paragraphs were an alternate take on reality that i think MIGHT have happened if i had given the card to her face to face. This should be multichapter, but it's future is unclear. i'll think about it, as some of the ideas im thinking might have to wait a while until i recall my link from Bebo.
It started with a Homemade Card
By micman60
AN: Hi, and welcome to my 1st fanfic based in the real world. ALL the names are straight out of my life, but the scenarios are just made up. To tell you the truth i DID make a homemade card for the girl in this story, but ended up putting it near 1 of her friend's bags with a note asking it be delivered to her. I don't know if she got it. Enjoy.
AN2: EVERYTHING in this chapter happened until the card giving
Chapter 1: Valentine's Day
It was a cold friday the 13th of Febuary. The school decided to run a service where you could pay for a rose, song or poem and they would be delivered through classtime. I was a little short of cash and couldn't pay for the poem i wrote for her.
Jade.
Now don't get me wrong, poems are great. but they aren't really up my alley. the last poem i wrote involved a dog, a squirrel, a carcrusher and a woodchipper. But i studied for a week just to write this one. i named it "Ode to Jade".
Jade. A good friend to all.
A wonder, mysterious in a way.
Impossible to look away.
Be my Valentine
See? Short but good. Anyway, i got the idea the day before during math class. Mr Rothie was teaching fractions. I remembered that it was nearly Valentine's Day, and i would need to do something this year to boost my self confidence. the year before when i made a card for someone else. it didn't really turn out too well (Translation: i ended up emoing around for the rest of the year), but i knew this year would be better. ...Even though it was gonna be friday the 13th. please don't question my logic.
That lesson, i got out a book i just scribbled in and tore out some of the cardboard cover. i got out my glue stick and some paper and glued it to the cardboard so i could write easier. With a small bit of book cardboard i made a heart shape and coloured it red. then i stuck it on the card, writing "Happy" up the top and "Valentine's Day!" down the bottom.
In the middle i wrote "I hope our hearts can meet someday", followed by another heart below it. below THAT was "From a secret admirer." I admired my handywork before writing the ode on the back.
As soon as me, my mother and my sister got home, Rebecca reminded Mum about her Centrelink apointment, and suddenly i was home alone. i went onto anime forum, then went and got a small envelope and my trusty red texta, writing "Jade" on the front before drawing love hearts around it.
As i unpeeled the sticky back, i wondered of this was a good idea. i mean, what if a repeat of last year happened?
[FLASHBACK]
The final bell rung. The school day had ended. Time was up. Because of my cowardice, i had failed to give "Her" the card. i dropped it in the bin, vowing never to love again.
[END FLASHBACK]
But this person was the one, i could feel it in my heart. there was something about that girl, a mystery. and i was gonna find out. Sealing the envelope, i headed to the computer as my family walked through the door.
Next day, letter in my pencil case, i strode into school, as confident as i could be. I sat my way through 2 classes before geography, the only subject where me and Jade shared a classroom. My teacher Mr Watson said he misread his timetable and we had to help him set up the All Weather Shelter for something.
There were only 2 good chances and i blew them. We were walking down to the hall and i saw her bag was unzipped. i thought 'Now's the chance!' but i thought i would have a better one. Inside the hall, i saw her bag and thought maybe i could drop it as i walk by. Once again i hesitated. Chance missed.
[THE REST IS FANTASY]
It was 5 minutes until the bell for the special activities and i couldn't find Jade anywhere. 4 minutes and i had looked nearly everywhere. 3 minutes and i had seen her run from the canteen, tears running from her face. 2. i tried to catch up but couldn't. so i did all i could. i shouted "JADE!". 1. She looked around and stopped. by the time i made it to her, there were 10 seconds left. "Here. Happy Valentines." was all i managed to get out as a rush of adrenaline hit me. as she looked at it, i kissed her cheek before rushing off again.
We were asked to line up in rolecall position and to choose from 2 activities: a movie (WALL-E) or a "concert." i chose the movie. As i went in and sat down, i wondered if i had done the right thing. Maybe it was too soon. and as i pondered, Jade sat next to me. i was oblivious until she said."Hi."
I nearly fell out of my chair. She was sitting next to me. In a movie partially about romance. After i gave her a card. "H...Hi." i stuttered nervously, trying to regain my posture. We sat in silence for a few seconds before she said "That card was really sweet. Thank you.". I said "No problem"
"You know, i was gonna get you a card, but i was a little bit short on money." she said, her hair glowing in the light from the windows. "I never thought of making one. I guess i should give you something in return". "You don't have to, really." i replied, my knees shaking and thus giving me away. Noticing this, she said just audibly " No, i insist."
Before i knew it, our lips were locked in a passionate embrace. All i really did was sit there in pure shock. i did NOT plan on this happening. But before i knew it i was returning the favor. "Look! Jade's got a boyfriend!" Someone yelled. Soon the whole auditorium was cheering. as we broke apart, i whispered "Thank you" gently into her ear. "No problem." she replied as she put her head on my sholder as the movie started.
THE END
AN: Those last few paragraphs were an alternate take on reality that i think MIGHT have happened if i had given the card to her face to face. This should be multichapter, but it's future is unclear. i'll think about it, as some of the ideas im thinking might have to wait a while until i recall my link from Bebo.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
randomized life!!!
They say their life is random
Few write about them
Few think they have poured some words of wisdom
And I laugh at them
They say their life is illusion
The world is virtual hall of fame
And try hard to get in confusion
In a strive to get out but in vain
They say their life is dark
With no hope just shame
Little they know why they irk
Coz not the world but they r lame
DESTINY IS BUT JUST MADE
AS U CALL LIFE A GAME
U ARE THE FUTURE, NOT YOUR FATE
So LIVE IT, NOT LEAVE IT AS U CAME
And those people who curse their randomized life
I just laugh at them.
Few write about them
Few think they have poured some words of wisdom
And I laugh at them
They say their life is illusion
The world is virtual hall of fame
And try hard to get in confusion
In a strive to get out but in vain
They say their life is dark
With no hope just shame
Little they know why they irk
Coz not the world but they r lame
DESTINY IS BUT JUST MADE
AS U CALL LIFE A GAME
U ARE THE FUTURE, NOT YOUR FATE
So LIVE IT, NOT LEAVE IT AS U CAME
And those people who curse their randomized life
I just laugh at them.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
THE TWILIGHT SKY
The twilight sky
U, me 'n' the twilight sky
Sun is shimmering down
Don’t let your moon roll down
In the twilight sky
(The twilight sky)
Dots shine in the horizon
Your face reflecting moon
Light the twilight sky
With your pretty fleeting smile
Don’t let your moon roll down
As the sun goes down
In the twilight sky
Shivering cold has wreathed the sky
But your hug is still warm
Dusky rosy twilight sky
And your pretty charm
Let's pause this twilight sky
And live for ever
Here your memory remains
Here, I'll hold you ever
And replay that twilight sky
Our twilight sky
The twilight sky, my twilight sky
We shall never leave
My sun is bleeding red
But we shan't ever grieve
Dew of the twilight sky
Reflecting tainted sun
Bewitching twilight sky
Bedlam of taciturn
U, me 'n' the twilight sky
Don’t let your moon pour down
As the sun goes down
In the twilight sky
My twilight sky…….
U, me 'n' the twilight sky
Sun is shimmering down
Don’t let your moon roll down
In the twilight sky
(The twilight sky)
Dots shine in the horizon
Your face reflecting moon
Light the twilight sky
With your pretty fleeting smile
Don’t let your moon roll down
As the sun goes down
In the twilight sky
Shivering cold has wreathed the sky
But your hug is still warm
Dusky rosy twilight sky
And your pretty charm
Let's pause this twilight sky
And live for ever
Here your memory remains
Here, I'll hold you ever
And replay that twilight sky
Our twilight sky
The twilight sky, my twilight sky
We shall never leave
My sun is bleeding red
But we shan't ever grieve
Dew of the twilight sky
Reflecting tainted sun
Bewitching twilight sky
Bedlam of taciturn
U, me 'n' the twilight sky
Don’t let your moon pour down
As the sun goes down
In the twilight sky
My twilight sky…….
LOST
I felt warmth
In her hug
Tight, yet embracing
But not anymore
I close my eyes....
I felt breeze
Wafting my tender body
Soaring me
In a kiss as she puffed
But now no more
I felt safe
Dreaming by her crossed legs
Carefree as dead
But not any more
Please don’t leave the door
I don’t fee that heaven:
Wondering in her wonderland
Tucked in that cozy earth
Where nature fanned love
For a fruit to grow
But now no more
( this poem is dedicated to my friend who is just 13. his mom is dying and all i can do is write. i hope god has enough strength to solace the turbulence in his heart.)
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