Monday, December 9, 2013

Half Moon Chasing

living it's life
    flower of night
    of shreds a'meadow
      singing by lone

 with gale a'sway
   her tears flutter
      to the far edge of sky
            at the half moonshine


of a Friday evening
   I bid greetings,
    to the city sky
    of which light still a grey
                  with a week's burden of tears

  to the shining leaves
     reflections of dewdrops
             and in all their
               longevity, would smile

  to the arc of faint colors
         yet deeply reviving
             my long lost heart

Losing It

the strings of dreams now ephemeral
standing on the stares of Rainbows
 is a no-more, as tunes
of invalidity stream into
   the fuzzy space
unsolidifying  heart

by the crack

by the crack of mossy grey brick
   under some discolored umbrellas
         I sit to eat my lunch
   with the spray of december rain

 by the crack of damp black asphalt
    under the cold, travelling clouds
           I stuff my stomach heartily
         dining at an old, cheap stall

  after a day's desk work
        in the slow,
        by the crack of KL.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

the first rule

the first rule is , don't tell anyone what you want to accomplish or else you will never accomplish it . especially facebook. don't tell facebook .

that's the kind of mechanical that works with some people

Monday, November 4, 2013

living without a care

living without a care,

could mean careless. being careless, it leads to acts of clumsiness/ ditziness. being clumsy, walking without watching your steps, dropping things by not gripping them tightly, your head always in the air (airhead).

being careless means not giving a damn about a thing. any other things but yourself. your own thoughts. you only thing about yourself. and by 'yourself' , I mean your own feels. your own feelings on what you want. on things that you did. on things that you want to happen. to you. or to someone else but directly or indirectly related to you. you 'care less' about most of the things.

 careless = selfishness

selfishness is a piece of something in everyone. it is derived - or rather - developed from the act of carelessness. you start by not caring. you do what you want, you ignore the little things. from there you can see, it escalated to selfishness right away.

you only do things when it benefits you.  you only talk to your friends when you want something from them . you develop friendship because it benefits you. like playing the game Persona (3,4, anything). you develop social links just to get more powerful monsters, and to reach the best ending. that's the selfishness of the game, using selfishness as an 'item' to get to your goals.

in a way, that's how businessmen think. but let's ignore that part.

by manifesting selfishness, you are getting to your goal. but what if things don't go the way you want ? you will start to hate. why does this happen ? although you 'try' to deny it but there so shallowly covered in your heart, there is hate.

because you try to put a blame on something, or somebody for your failure. you look for people's fault . although how not closely related anything is to your attempt that failed, you are doing your best to find something to blame on.

and if you find yourself already at this stage in your own train of thoughts, most probably the wrong one in the whole story is yourself. it began from your own carelessness that leads to selfishness that leads to your attempt shrouded in selfishness, and finally you failed and you try to blame others for your failure, and starting to hate others.

from hate,it will develop into jealousy. and from jealousy, the dark wish for the other's destruction is born. and here you see, you have become the villain in your own story.

do not forget, that this outcome starts from being careless. by not caring.

 this is just a theory, don't take it as if it is the ultimate truth.

living without a care, is it a choice ?

it's a choice.but it's a choice by fate.

now question yourself, where are you now and have you become the villain in your own story ? if yes, it's time to stop.

Saturday, November 2, 2013


singing a song in the middle of night
    a faint tune to invite the breeze

that envelopes softly a reminiscing soul
    pulling his hair, take him to a stop

in the vast ocean of racing lights
   drowning in the dark...crumbling in pain

telling lies, creating truths, hiding sorrows
    it is the stringless marionette,

dancing by the door
     in a sand of lust pouring like gold dust

prediction of fate fogging all ears
   striking the sky, a dash of starlight

life and death tatter at the brim of smiles
    teaching infatuations to sleeps that can't borrow

returning heavens to once a troubling mistakes
   the shadows are counted, to separate to dust

in the end of journey a thousand poles
   light and air shower the shivering soul

a place in history a world of visits
     let the tune of hearts whisper in the sky

people's warmth are gone in flips of pages
     people's tears are one with the coldness of gaze

the red sea waving a lifeless call
   to the stringless marionettes faking a heaven's door

a telltale of hollows in the last fifteen
   discovering fear of anguishing of all

the curtain that falls,smearing blood
   a morning light that differs in one's eyes

when the carriage of earth resonates again
   a complexion enveloping the thousand of heavens

flickering hate of unfiltered fear, and unveiling past
   like an unknown street smithered with weed

kiss and goodbye, pain and reincarnation
   the flow of creation swinging in storm

in the different flavors that often told
   the stranger's taste fathoming the role

and in the prologue of voiceless shriek
   untangling, the bright red strings

that slowing down, in eyes of truth and void
   the concept of time, for weakest soul a drip

forbidden land of sky's a gray
  the streaming river is brackish,bitter of tears

once awoken from the madly nightmares
  tell him, the stringless marionette,of refractions

in irreversible cogs that accelerate indefinitely
  are molecules of compunction, resonating

the eyes of rubies and emeralds, unknowingly
  solemnly damned to absorb the waves condemning

in the universe so small a little history
  making a titanic mark on a big heart

life goes on, lives carry on,
   revolving souls seeking savior, in the despairing world.

5/7/2013 - 2/11/2013

Thursday, July 18, 2013

The Blue Moon Won't Sing

in the presence of whited eyes
       can you gather the starry sand
       on the long beach of unbecoming wishes

and the blue moon won't sing anymore
       treading the mud is you barefooted
       with your hands clinging close
              to the brittle heart of glass

please keep walking dear you
          though the miles will scar
                   eternally your soul

for somewhere en route
  I'll be there waiting, with your shoes

A Crimson Redemption

What will you tell about fear
      in the eclipse of suddenness
          that you, timeless, visited
       carried away by the conducting life
                   in the street of sorrow

 How will you tell about affection
           in the faze of twilight
           gushing like a severed pipeline
           is your stream of deep
                         red, blood,
                                  a crimson redemption

If I Could

if I could tell you full
   about this uncertainties
           you would never start
                        to hate me

if I could, learn of harshness
   I would be free
       of this despised feeling

like a long thorn inside
       piercing lungs and heart
            I can't be straight

if I could make you glad
   I am staggering
        between cliffs of,


tirelessly wading in the stream of love
   is just another ideal
       he will find , the banks of rusting trust
       to quench his fatigue
                       of swimming day and night

in the 'braces of her affection that was believed in
    Another fold of falsehood,, trapping
        like a sudden waterfall upon the river
               that once blinked,
                      swallowing, crushing


Don't lay me a voice
    dear illusion
            in the space where I smile
            is the fragment of mirage

it is not the same, heart
   that shrouds behind that mist
   is a simple story
        of neverending life .


a finger stain on my jacket
   it was from yesterday's

"hey, isn't your heart beating
        today, too?
        value it, dummy "

but then
      the point she poked me
      still aches even now

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Dark Day

Oh, dark day ! Thy visit me once again,
with the slow,
destructive gale

Pounding of ears by sound
so vicious
creeping this disdain feeling that slithers

Unlifting bud that pinched off,
stenched with blackness
of venge that once he had forgotten

Oh,dark day! Thy soaked me
deep hatred towards
that presumably damning

Friday, April 12, 2013

When She Cried

I remember when you cried
   from across the table
   when you saw me putting a new hat on her
   a surprise

and in joy, she hugged me,
       and you ran upstairs
    we chased you
          I was waiting on the stairs when
          she consoled you

          " don't cry, don't cry "
            I always sing, for yours truly
               but I wonder if
                you will ever cry again,
                              for me and her ?


Thursday, February 28, 2013


Let tomorrow tell the story
     if the fall is spring for me

     in the sleeping leaves
     by the end of summer

     a transient visit
         of calling of flowers

let me hear,
   what tomorrow will say .