I'm so proud of the Americans...
:) the time for change has come.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Saturday, November 1, 2008
4 remarkable events of 2008
My 18th birthday this year definitely stood out from all others.
---A ride on the 300km/h express train system, luxury bus home with entertainment system. Om nom nom food.
The Flying Camera Incident
---The camera flew out the window [via implausible circumstances such as wind and curtains]. Picked up by incredulous friends. Object survived the 4-floor fall.
The MJH experience
---5 girls from our pod, sitting/lying down outside Gucci/LV/Michael Hill Jewellers for a night, anticipating the biennial $1 diamond sale. Met lots of interesting characters including famous/almost famous people, hobos, street cleaners, and general wtf stares. [8pm-11am]
The LOTR marathon Halloween Blast
---The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of the King [with extended footage] all in one night [9pm-7am] with P, M and H. Stunning New Zealand scenery, Tolkien and Jackson's combined artistry, popcorn, AND fabulous music. What else could anyone ask for?
Fatigue was the all-round comment by the end.
---A ride on the 300km/h express train system, luxury bus home with entertainment system. Om nom nom food.
The Flying Camera Incident
---The camera flew out the window [via implausible circumstances such as wind and curtains]. Picked up by incredulous friends. Object survived the 4-floor fall.
The MJH experience
---5 girls from our pod, sitting/lying down outside Gucci/LV/Michael Hill Jewellers for a night, anticipating the biennial $1 diamond sale. Met lots of interesting characters including famous/almost famous people, hobos, street cleaners, and general wtf stares. [8pm-11am]
The LOTR marathon Halloween Blast
---The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers and The Return of the King [with extended footage] all in one night [9pm-7am] with P, M and H. Stunning New Zealand scenery, Tolkien and Jackson's combined artistry, popcorn, AND fabulous music. What else could anyone ask for?
Fatigue was the all-round comment by the end.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
attacking animals?
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7699092.stm
How our society has been degraded...mauling a 75-year-old flamingo...what did it ever do to deserve this treatment?
How our society has been degraded...mauling a 75-year-old flamingo...what did it ever do to deserve this treatment?
Saturday, October 25, 2008
in response
http://www.mayormichael.co.nz/columns/070727-sst-abuse.html
I was browsing through the internet when I came across this opinion article. I thought it was remarkably ironic, especially as the views were coming from a white, influential upper-middle-class man, the arrogant dominant faction from every perspective. He appears to think that he stands on moral high ground with regards to this issue.
Personally, I feel this is blatant discrimination against the Maori population as a whole. Child abuse, sure, a topic that makes all participants cringe, is nevertheless a phenomenon found in many cultures. It cannot be directly attributed to 'being Maori'. There are a variety of reasons that lead to child abuse, and race is definitely not a pre-requisite for violent behaviour. Every person, who is in their right state of mind, would condemn the violence towards children.
Child abuse is often under-reported, as with crimes related to domestic violence, because people are afraid of the statement that these actions makes on the overall image of a society. Keeping in mind that there are no full-blooded Maori people alive in New Zealand, wouldn't child abuse be strongly related to white Pakeha culture too?
If child abuse rates in within the Maori are remarkably high, as some people claim, authorities and governments should be looking into the causes of this behaviour, such as unemployment, under-education, and substance abuse. There is no question that intoxication produces [usually unsavoury] effects on the nervous system that differ from a normal, sober brain.
The laws have been tightened on child abuse, but the rates have not decreased. Why? The law-abiding parents are being pushed into a corner by the new restrictions in regards to child discipline, while the ones whom the original legislation was targeted at have simply ignored the consequences.
Blaming the entire Maori race is not the solution. What needs to be addressed is the deeply-rooted issue of alcohol abuse present in contemporary New Zealand society, not to mention the very distinct class divides that result in unequal opportunities available for people of Maori ethnicity.
People are all born with a conscience, to distinguish what's wrong or right. It is when this distinction is clouded by alcohol or an illegal substance that violence on this scale occurs I strongly believe that more limitations on alcohol/drug availability and less glamourous promotion [in the media] about the consumption of substances would reduce the current rates.
Counselling and other non-invasive methods could also be applied to parents and/or whanau with potential or past records of child abuse and associated violence. This way, there is a higher likelihood that abuse will decrease markedly, as many of the current cases are kept in the dark, practiced in seclusion and left until it is too late. Social services should be more attentive to regions prone to domestic violence, and take rapid action in removing children from dangerous home environments.
Let's not focus so much on the 'colour' of the tragical occurrences and more so on reassessing society as a whole, while implementing measures to actively address the manifest problems of racial inequality and the 'drinking culture', as opposed to dumping accusations on specific race/s.
I was browsing through the internet when I came across this opinion article. I thought it was remarkably ironic, especially as the views were coming from a white, influential upper-middle-class man, the arrogant dominant faction from every perspective. He appears to think that he stands on moral high ground with regards to this issue.
Personally, I feel this is blatant discrimination against the Maori population as a whole. Child abuse, sure, a topic that makes all participants cringe, is nevertheless a phenomenon found in many cultures. It cannot be directly attributed to 'being Maori'. There are a variety of reasons that lead to child abuse, and race is definitely not a pre-requisite for violent behaviour. Every person, who is in their right state of mind, would condemn the violence towards children.
Child abuse is often under-reported, as with crimes related to domestic violence, because people are afraid of the statement that these actions makes on the overall image of a society. Keeping in mind that there are no full-blooded Maori people alive in New Zealand, wouldn't child abuse be strongly related to white Pakeha culture too?
If child abuse rates in within the Maori are remarkably high, as some people claim, authorities and governments should be looking into the causes of this behaviour, such as unemployment, under-education, and substance abuse. There is no question that intoxication produces [usually unsavoury] effects on the nervous system that differ from a normal, sober brain.
The laws have been tightened on child abuse, but the rates have not decreased. Why? The law-abiding parents are being pushed into a corner by the new restrictions in regards to child discipline, while the ones whom the original legislation was targeted at have simply ignored the consequences.
Blaming the entire Maori race is not the solution. What needs to be addressed is the deeply-rooted issue of alcohol abuse present in contemporary New Zealand society, not to mention the very distinct class divides that result in unequal opportunities available for people of Maori ethnicity.
People are all born with a conscience, to distinguish what's wrong or right. It is when this distinction is clouded by alcohol or an illegal substance that violence on this scale occurs I strongly believe that more limitations on alcohol/drug availability and less glamourous promotion [in the media] about the consumption of substances would reduce the current rates.
Counselling and other non-invasive methods could also be applied to parents and/or whanau with potential or past records of child abuse and associated violence. This way, there is a higher likelihood that abuse will decrease markedly, as many of the current cases are kept in the dark, practiced in seclusion and left until it is too late. Social services should be more attentive to regions prone to domestic violence, and take rapid action in removing children from dangerous home environments.
Let's not focus so much on the 'colour' of the tragical occurrences and more so on reassessing society as a whole, while implementing measures to actively address the manifest problems of racial inequality and the 'drinking culture', as opposed to dumping accusations on specific race/s.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
two more pretty awesome Mandarin songs
記憶森林
今夜的天空 看不見星星 但昨夜我還看見的
為什麼愛你 曾經我知道 只是現在無論我怎麼樣都記不得
熟悉的街道 習慣的陌生 想起從前的我們
無聲的電影 一幕幕閃過 曾經快樂過的我 是誰演出的角色
我無法平靜 只好不斷往前行
直到將你的表情忘了
* 要走到什麼時候才能夠 決定放手 不再回頭
要痛到什麼時候才會懂 已經沒有 再堅持的理由
我走在一片 陰鬱的森林 記憶無聲的飄落
所有的曾經 就這樣踏過 碎片拼湊成一道靜靜離去的足跡
我無法平靜 路過太多的傷心
直到整個人都已經 空了
魚在水裡哭
魚在水裡哭
我握著你的手說魚在水裡哭
你笑著說別傻了 魚並不會哭
他們是一種沒有眼淚的動物
樹在雨裡哭
我抬頭看著你說樹在雨裡哭
你溫柔看著我說 樹並不會哭
他們是沒有思想情感的植物
我突然的無助
沒有眼淚的悲傷沒有人清楚
只能呼吸著不被諒解的孤獨
一個人靜靜祈禱一切會結束
我矛盾著無助
很需要你能給我一點點保護
想對你說的話卻總說不出
我變成了植物
沒有人在哭
你摸著我的頭說沒有人在哭
我在哭 只是沒有人在乎
今夜的天空 看不見星星 但昨夜我還看見的
為什麼愛你 曾經我知道 只是現在無論我怎麼樣都記不得
熟悉的街道 習慣的陌生 想起從前的我們
無聲的電影 一幕幕閃過 曾經快樂過的我 是誰演出的角色
我無法平靜 只好不斷往前行
直到將你的表情忘了
* 要走到什麼時候才能夠 決定放手 不再回頭
要痛到什麼時候才會懂 已經沒有 再堅持的理由
我走在一片 陰鬱的森林 記憶無聲的飄落
所有的曾經 就這樣踏過 碎片拼湊成一道靜靜離去的足跡
我無法平靜 路過太多的傷心
直到整個人都已經 空了
魚在水裡哭
魚在水裡哭
我握著你的手說魚在水裡哭
你笑著說別傻了 魚並不會哭
他們是一種沒有眼淚的動物
樹在雨裡哭
我抬頭看著你說樹在雨裡哭
你溫柔看著我說 樹並不會哭
他們是沒有思想情感的植物
我突然的無助
沒有眼淚的悲傷沒有人清楚
只能呼吸著不被諒解的孤獨
一個人靜靜祈禱一切會結束
我矛盾著無助
很需要你能給我一點點保護
想對你說的話卻總說不出
我變成了植物
沒有人在哭
你摸著我的頭說沒有人在哭
我在哭 只是沒有人在乎
two of my favourite mandarin songs
heh, they're really sentimental songs...but I suppose the same applies to all Mandarin songs...
sang by A-Mei
人質
我和你啊 存在一種危險關係
彼此挾持 這另一部分的自己
本以為這完整了愛的定義
那就乖乖的守護著你
相愛變成 猜忌懷疑的爛遊戲
規則是要 憋著呼吸越靠越近
但你的溫柔 是我唯一沉溺
你是愛我的 就不怕有縫隙
在我心上用力的開一槍
讓一切歸零 在這聲巨響
如果愛是說什麼都不能放
我不掙扎 反正我也 沒差
人質在這一刻得到釋放
相愛的純粹落得如此下場
你滿意嗎 我們都別 說謊
sang by A-Mei
人質
我和你啊 存在一種危險關係
彼此挾持 這另一部分的自己
本以為這完整了愛的定義
那就乖乖的守護著你
相愛變成 猜忌懷疑的爛遊戲
規則是要 憋著呼吸越靠越近
但你的溫柔 是我唯一沉溺
你是愛我的 就不怕有縫隙
在我心上用力的開一槍
讓一切歸零 在這聲巨響
如果愛是說什麼都不能放
我不掙扎 反正我也 沒差
人質在這一刻得到釋放
相愛的純粹落得如此下場
你滿意嗎 我們都別 說謊
記得
誰還記得 是誰先說永遠的愛我
以前的一句話 是我們以後的傷口
過了太久 沒人記得當初那些溫柔
我和你手牽手 說要一起走到最後
我們都忘了 這條路走了多久
心中是清楚的有一天
有一天都會停的 讓時間說真話
雖然我也害怕 在天黑了以後
我們都不知道會不會有遺憾
重唱 ＊
我們都累了 卻沒辦法往回走
兩顆心都迷惑 怎麼說
怎麼說都沒有救 親愛的為什麼
也許你也不懂 兩個相愛的人
等著對方先說想分開的理由
誰還記得 愛情開始變化的時候
我和你的眼中 看見了不同的天空
走的太遠 終於走到分岔路的路口
是不是你和我 要有兩個相反的夢
重唱 ＊
我和你手牽手 說要一起走到最後
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Seeing shades of blue
I don't want to colour inside the lines anymore,
I'm too tired to play charades with a cheat.
I've waited too long for your apologies,
your rhymes have turned stale.
I bite my lips
Because I know
What you've become
Is larger than life.
You made me better,
or so I thought
like a child addicted to cough syrup.
before I found your broken alibis.
I need to resurface, see the sun again,
before this drama gets out of hand.
The pantomime behind the stage
has been turned into a freakshow.
You're the piece in the puzzle that doesn't fit.
I'll make it out of this nightmare on my own, without your help
I've rediscovered my feet.
They walk the path less shaken.
You blamed me for your shortcomings
I realise that I've
awaken from your delusions
even though I learnt my lesson the hard way
You put me through hell,
your chemical flames corroded my mind
You told me lies, I swallowed them whole
I was worse than blind, you smothered my soul.
But now I know
Your farce has lost its joke.
The more you insist
the more I can't cope.
Say goodbye to the person who you once knew
She won't stay around to watch the skies turn blue.
Your footprints won't last,
but mine will endure.
I'm too tired to play charades with a cheat.
I've waited too long for your apologies,
your rhymes have turned stale.
I bite my lips
Because I know
What you've become
Is larger than life.
You made me better,
or so I thought
like a child addicted to cough syrup.
before I found your broken alibis.
I need to resurface, see the sun again,
before this drama gets out of hand.
The pantomime behind the stage
has been turned into a freakshow.
You're the piece in the puzzle that doesn't fit.
I'll make it out of this nightmare on my own, without your help
I've rediscovered my feet.
They walk the path less shaken.
You blamed me for your shortcomings
I realise that I've
awaken from your delusions
even though I learnt my lesson the hard way
You put me through hell,
your chemical flames corroded my mind
You told me lies, I swallowed them whole
I was worse than blind, you smothered my soul.
But now I know
Your farce has lost its joke.
The more you insist
the more I can't cope.
Say goodbye to the person who you once knew
She won't stay around to watch the skies turn blue.
Your footprints won't last,
but mine will endure.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
The story left untold
Your eyes
glow with fairytales
they tell a thousand stories
none of which can be distinguished
as a truth
or a lie.
the soul
of which you speak of so fondly
nestles between the strands of your hair
undisturbed by the chaos
life itself exists
fluorishing tendrils
uncurled
in the intoxicating scent
of your skin
what are you?
words
are only sounds
they fall short in your presence
I long to understand
this smile
It fills my insides
with forgotten melodies
Thoughts complicate
if I had a penny
for my every waking thought
I would probably donate them to you
This delirium
is a phase
that will hopefully
cease to be
when I choose to leave.
glow with fairytales
they tell a thousand stories
none of which can be distinguished
as a truth
or a lie.
the soul
of which you speak of so fondly
nestles between the strands of your hair
undisturbed by the chaos
life itself exists
fluorishing tendrils
uncurled
in the intoxicating scent
of your skin
what are you?
words
are only sounds
they fall short in your presence
I long to understand
this smile
It fills my insides
with forgotten melodies
Thoughts complicate
if I had a penny
for my every waking thought
I would probably donate them to you
This delirium
is a phase
that will hopefully
cease to be
when I choose to leave.
tempus fugit
the watchmaker sighs
his breath leaving circles
of condensation on the shop windows
warm and affirming
outside
the snow forms a pretty picture
the white icicles
mingle soundlessly with
the soft breeze
There is no trace
of life
In the dimly-lit streets of the town
the twinkling lights dissipate
amidst
the eerie quiet, the neverending night
a single drop of water
slides down the glass
where its life is claimed
by time.
time doesn't forgive your mistakes
it only erases, the details
like a duster on chalk
slowly but surely
the memories are coaxed away
this isn't a selective process,
sorry to disappoint you
pure, unbiased obliteration
is its signature mark
the watchmaker makes time
a measurable quantity
defying fickle nature
tick tick tock tock
the short hand corresponds to
the number twelve
insofar, his life will be preserved
time is generous
then, when it sickens of him
He will be replaced
wrinkles, arthritis and all
by another replica
a youthful version
one that doesn't stumble
or falter
Speaks in completed sentences
...someone who makes less errors.
the clocktower does its trick
strikes thirteen
the silence magnifies
stillness occupies the land
I guess, for now,
you will have to do.
his breath leaving circles
of condensation on the shop windows
warm and affirming
outside
the snow forms a pretty picture
the white icicles
mingle soundlessly with
the soft breeze
There is no trace
of life
In the dimly-lit streets of the town
the twinkling lights dissipate
amidst
the eerie quiet, the neverending night
a single drop of water
slides down the glass
where its life is claimed
by time.
time doesn't forgive your mistakes
it only erases, the details
like a duster on chalk
slowly but surely
the memories are coaxed away
this isn't a selective process,
sorry to disappoint you
pure, unbiased obliteration
is its signature mark
the watchmaker makes time
a measurable quantity
defying fickle nature
tick tick tock tock
the short hand corresponds to
the number twelve
insofar, his life will be preserved
time is generous
then, when it sickens of him
He will be replaced
wrinkles, arthritis and all
by another replica
a youthful version
one that doesn't stumble
or falter
Speaks in completed sentences
...someone who makes less errors.
the clocktower does its trick
strikes thirteen
the silence magnifies
stillness occupies the land
I guess, for now,
you will have to do.
Myself And I
it follows me
around the bends
wherever I go
it has no name, yet it knows mine
as long as there is light
I am being pursued
by my darker half
it treads the same road I fell down on
but tentatively stops
one step behind
it jerks about
without the fluidity of human limbs
like a broken, demented mannequin
I am its prey
Simultaneously, I control
the strings that moves its mechanisms
we are two opposites
tied together by the need of one another.
It consumes my being when I allow it to,
but it doesn't breathe air,
like me,
nor does it shed
real tears.
abandonment is
an option
my stalker entices
I contemplate the actions
of such deed
its faceless form
smirks
stares me down
But the power I would be required to relinquish
pulls me back from the edge
where I teetered, uncertain
for two quarters of a second
so now it's just me, left alone
to envy the shadow,
after sunrise.
around the bends
wherever I go
it has no name, yet it knows mine
as long as there is light
I am being pursued
by my darker half
it treads the same road I fell down on
but tentatively stops
one step behind
it jerks about
without the fluidity of human limbs
like a broken, demented mannequin
I am its prey
Simultaneously, I control
the strings that moves its mechanisms
we are two opposites
tied together by the need of one another.
It consumes my being when I allow it to,
but it doesn't breathe air,
like me,
nor does it shed
real tears.
abandonment is
an option
my stalker entices
I contemplate the actions
of such deed
its faceless form
smirks
stares me down
But the power I would be required to relinquish
pulls me back from the edge
where I teetered, uncertain
for two quarters of a second
so now it's just me, left alone
to envy the shadow,
after sunrise.
The hierophant
contrary
to popular belief
I am not a reaper of souls:
I am but a mere collector
of words
it is through these crudely formed characters
that I see
these echoes are louder
than the voices
clamouring for attention
there are no prerequisites
for figurative expression
each alphabet,
has an identity of its own
each syllable, they sing a different tune
threatening to break out
from the plastic enclosure that confines them
As a collector
of words
I rearrange, divide
and modify
rather than regurgitate
a series of patterns
crossing forsaken territory
perils that cannot be detected by the naked eye
lie dormant
beneath the soles of my shoes
as I tread the winded path
on the quest to capture
esotericism
to satisfy my unquenchable thirst
for truth.
to popular belief
I am not a reaper of souls:
I am but a mere collector
of words
it is through these crudely formed characters
that I see
these echoes are louder
than the voices
clamouring for attention
there are no prerequisites
for figurative expression
each alphabet,
has an identity of its own
each syllable, they sing a different tune
threatening to break out
from the plastic enclosure that confines them
As a collector
of words
I rearrange, divide
and modify
rather than regurgitate
a series of patterns
crossing forsaken territory
perils that cannot be detected by the naked eye
lie dormant
beneath the soles of my shoes
as I tread the winded path
on the quest to capture
esotericism
to satisfy my unquenchable thirst
for truth.
Hunter
The falcon fixes his unblinking
glittering eyes
Glaring intently
at his next victim
The white dove sits
on the unsteady branch
Chirping her song
With no name
Silently, the falcon seeks its prey
The dove is caught unawares
in one fell swoop
the falcon's keen claws graze her.
With her graceful wings, the white dove
trills with fear, frozen by it
too terrified to breathe
The falcon spreads its powerful wings
cold, determined and unempathetic
Craving only for one thing
crimson life
hunter and prey
are entangled
in a race for life or death
Indistinct shapes blotted out by trees
The falcon catches his prize; his object of desire
triumphant yet again
The dove struggles,
twitches helplessly
The gratification of flesh is immediate
as the hunter pierces her delicate throat
Bright scarlet liquid trickles; bubbling like a river of damnation
onto her white cloak of innocence
Tainted with anguish,
sorrow and agony.
Death begins weaving its lethal web
Paralysis encroaches the creature.
Her life is now but a languishing heartbeat
On the verge of fading
As the last remnants of life
ebbed out from her fragile shell
The dove wails one final song:
The falcon has claimed my body,
but darkness has devoured my soul.
Empty
silence
descends on the snowy plains.
Nothingness
presides.
The hunter's malevolent eyes
His remorseless heart
spares none.
His gaze sweeps across the horizon, searching
A timeless game of hide and seek.
The hunted are not safe.
Run now, if you can.
glittering eyes
Glaring intently
at his next victim
The white dove sits
on the unsteady branch
Chirping her song
With no name
Silently, the falcon seeks its prey
The dove is caught unawares
in one fell swoop
the falcon's keen claws graze her.
With her graceful wings, the white dove
trills with fear, frozen by it
too terrified to breathe
The falcon spreads its powerful wings
cold, determined and unempathetic
Craving only for one thing
crimson life
hunter and prey
are entangled
in a race for life or death
Indistinct shapes blotted out by trees
The falcon catches his prize; his object of desire
triumphant yet again
The dove struggles,
twitches helplessly
The gratification of flesh is immediate
as the hunter pierces her delicate throat
Bright scarlet liquid trickles; bubbling like a river of damnation
onto her white cloak of innocence
Tainted with anguish,
sorrow and agony.
Death begins weaving its lethal web
Paralysis encroaches the creature.
Her life is now but a languishing heartbeat
On the verge of fading
As the last remnants of life
ebbed out from her fragile shell
The dove wails one final song:
The falcon has claimed my body,
but darkness has devoured my soul.
Empty
silence
descends on the snowy plains.
Nothingness
presides.
The hunter's malevolent eyes
His remorseless heart
spares none.
His gaze sweeps across the horizon, searching
A timeless game of hide and seek.
The hunted are not safe.
Run now, if you can.
the fair
Observe the random protocol
behind these glass playthings
I spy
the clowns
with their meticulously painted faces
designed to fool
the cunning children
their cheeks dusted with cheap rouge
their eyes:
two wholes, black, gaping.
the acrobats are well-rehearsed with their stunts
wearing the skintight costumes
distort their form
with little effort, leaving nothing
to the imagination
flying from one invisible stop
to the next
parabolic arcs each telling a different tale
stepping up to the podium were
the fireaters
whose uncommon practices
shock
astound
amaze
accompanied by imminent danger, they lived by the second
The audience applaud
the resonance is deafening
last but not least
the circusmaster announces,
THE MAGICIAN!
whose prowess of the unknown
is tantalising
he is the flame that draws the moths to their defeat
He fascinates every man, woman and child
Clothed in a bejewelled outfit.
The people
are glued to their seats
The light sears their eyes, but no one notices
Hushed sounds, they stare mesmorised
Yet they cannot understand the mystery behind his tricks.
Are they the tricked, or is he the trick?
The question goes unanswered
...the curtains drop
another evening
has come to a conclusion
Murmurs and mumbles
fills the auditorium
as the people shuffle towards the glowing exits
In the darkness
behind the red drapes
I sense his toothy grin
his malicious, twisted smile
covered by an immaculately gloved hand
the dull clang of coins
deposited into many pockets
At that moment, I realise
the dark carnival
has only just begun
behind these glass playthings
I spy
the clowns
with their meticulously painted faces
designed to fool
the cunning children
their cheeks dusted with cheap rouge
their eyes:
two wholes, black, gaping.
the acrobats are well-rehearsed with their stunts
wearing the skintight costumes
distort their form
with little effort, leaving nothing
to the imagination
flying from one invisible stop
to the next
parabolic arcs each telling a different tale
stepping up to the podium were
the fireaters
whose uncommon practices
shock
astound
amaze
accompanied by imminent danger, they lived by the second
The audience applaud
the resonance is deafening
last but not least
the circusmaster announces,
THE MAGICIAN!
whose prowess of the unknown
is tantalising
he is the flame that draws the moths to their defeat
He fascinates every man, woman and child
Clothed in a bejewelled outfit.
The people
are glued to their seats
The light sears their eyes, but no one notices
Hushed sounds, they stare mesmorised
Yet they cannot understand the mystery behind his tricks.
Are they the tricked, or is he the trick?
The question goes unanswered
...the curtains drop
another evening
has come to a conclusion
Murmurs and mumbles
fills the auditorium
as the people shuffle towards the glowing exits
In the darkness
behind the red drapes
I sense his toothy grin
his malicious, twisted smile
covered by an immaculately gloved hand
the dull clang of coins
deposited into many pockets
At that moment, I realise
the dark carnival
has only just begun
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
None
a white square splattered
on a white backdrop
minimalism
at
its finest
zero equals
the sum of nil. Anything could be nothing,
while everything is not something.
Absence of importance, of values, of communication
none whatsoever
The paper spits out
tints and shades;
it rejects colour
and life
the emotions have been
brutally extracted
paraphrased beyond recognition
discarded and forgotten.
There is no more
metallic banging
raindrops blotting
air whispering
even the house has stopped humming
memory, Mnemosyne was snuffed out
traces of leftover particles
collected and placed
in a jar
for future reference, but
for the time being
hidden from the curious glances
meaning is irrelevant
is it a revelation
or a mere disguise?
I'm not sure
But I think I miss
the juxtaposition of noises
because
the emptiness scares me.
on a white backdrop
minimalism
at
its finest
zero equals
the sum of nil. Anything could be nothing,
while everything is not something.
Absence of importance, of values, of communication
none whatsoever
The paper spits out
tints and shades;
it rejects colour
and life
the emotions have been
brutally extracted
paraphrased beyond recognition
discarded and forgotten.
There is no more
metallic banging
raindrops blotting
air whispering
even the house has stopped humming
memory, Mnemosyne was snuffed out
traces of leftover particles
collected and placed
in a jar
for future reference, but
for the time being
hidden from the curious glances
meaning is irrelevant
is it a revelation
or a mere disguise?
I'm not sure
But I think I miss
the juxtaposition of noises
because
the emptiness scares me.
What I found, inside an envelope
A word that is used too often;
but some say:
Not nearly enough
An equation with no set solution
a condition
that cannot be sliced open for analysis.
sometimes
a comedy of errors
resulting in a happy ending
but really, who believes in those anymore?
At other times, concluding with tragedy
the audience prefers that option
Mostly futile, yet always delivers
a subliminal message
to the furtherest corners of Earth.
melts ice; dissolves stones
builds impenetrable walls
as well as classic white picket fences
recalls
squiggly writing
boldly etched in wood
heralding the arrival of that certain someone
bluesy warbling,
played infinitesimally
on radio stations
repetitively lamenting their loss
This is the biggest paradox
since time began
an expression that is so abstract
it is incomprehensible
unpredictable and unaccountable
it is what we are
we have what they have
Whether you believe in this tale or not
No-one
is to blame here
These are the things
that are beyond our control
hidden between the lines
Be wary, but
not afraid. Savour the taste of these words;
Just don't drown
in the calamity of thoughts.
but some say:
Not nearly enough
An equation with no set solution
a condition
that cannot be sliced open for analysis.
sometimes
a comedy of errors
resulting in a happy ending
but really, who believes in those anymore?
At other times, concluding with tragedy
the audience prefers that option
Mostly futile, yet always delivers
a subliminal message
to the furtherest corners of Earth.
melts ice; dissolves stones
builds impenetrable walls
as well as classic white picket fences
recalls
squiggly writing
boldly etched in wood
heralding the arrival of that certain someone
bluesy warbling,
played infinitesimally
on radio stations
repetitively lamenting their loss
This is the biggest paradox
since time began
an expression that is so abstract
it is incomprehensible
unpredictable and unaccountable
it is what we are
we have what they have
Whether you believe in this tale or not
No-one
is to blame here
These are the things
that are beyond our control
hidden between the lines
Be wary, but
not afraid. Savour the taste of these words;
Just don't drown
in the calamity of thoughts.
poetry?
The facade I built
with my own two hands
portion by portion
hour after hour
now collapses
with me beneath it
an unwilling hostage
tiny fragments of paper
photographs and glass
drift ever so gracefully
but always beyond my grasp
The past, the future
The Present
a mangled symphony
of tears, blood
and pearly white bones
The video clicks to a halt
Why didn't you say what you wanted to say?
Should I have
listened to them?
Should I have tried harder
to salvage what was left, from the fear?
What have I become
after this mess?
Don't you know when to stop?
Do I?
Moments pass
Nobody breathes
Time is enveloped by a heavy fog
Flicks of water settle on the screen
The figures no longer twirl, they are
caught on the web of deceit
Sound's momentary
But the feeling lingers
with my own two hands
portion by portion
hour after hour
now collapses
with me beneath it
an unwilling hostage
tiny fragments of paper
photographs and glass
drift ever so gracefully
but always beyond my grasp
The past, the future
The Present
a mangled symphony
of tears, blood
and pearly white bones
The video clicks to a halt
Why didn't you say what you wanted to say?
Should I have
listened to them?
Should I have tried harder
to salvage what was left, from the fear?
What have I become
after this mess?
Don't you know when to stop?
Do I?
Moments pass
Nobody breathes
Time is enveloped by a heavy fog
Flicks of water settle on the screen
The figures no longer twirl, they are
caught on the web of deceit
Sound's momentary
But the feeling lingers
Monday, October 13, 2008
today's the day!
so, after much pondering and way too much procrastination, I've decided that I shall post up some of my old poetry, seeing as I'm never going to get around to posting political rantings, at this stage.
currently, I'm learning to play basic chords on a guitar, stringing up a few songs. in the future I'm hoping to write some songs, as an extension of poetry. most of this was inspired by the random lady I encountered on Queen St last Thursday morning, at around 4am...
p.s I like this font! i found quite a cool free fonts site last week, http://www.dafont.com/
This one's nice too: http://www.1001freefonts.com/retro-fonts.php
p.p.s I'm anticipating the arrival of Marit Larsen's new CD, The Chase. The first single off the album is pretty much the cutest [frankly, there are no other words to describe it] song I've heard since Big Girls Don't Cry. I love her lyrics.
currently, I'm learning to play basic chords on a guitar, stringing up a few songs. in the future I'm hoping to write some songs, as an extension of poetry. most of this was inspired by the random lady I encountered on Queen St last Thursday morning, at around 4am...
p.s I like this font! i found quite a cool free fonts site last week, http://www.dafont.com/
This one's nice too: http://www.1001freefonts.com/retro-fonts.php
p.p.s I'm anticipating the arrival of Marit Larsen's new CD, The Chase. The first single off the album is pretty much the cutest [frankly, there are no other words to describe it] song I've heard since Big Girls Don't Cry. I love her lyrics.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
talented people
I was astonished to find out today that the US Secretary of State, Condoleezza Rice, is a talented pianist. I wonder how people like that manage to balance their time between work and play/entertainment?
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
untitled
I would like to spend some time drafting this blog, as I've come up with a variety of ideas, but I'm currently quite hungry. So I might leave that till later :)
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