Wednesday, June 3, 2015

Poem 2 (slam)

When I was a little kid, my dad loved music.
There was always a stream made up of notes floating out the crack in the door.
Being the little kid that I was, I imitated him.
I would sing whenever I had free time in my pocket.
Well, that is, until third grade,
This girl walked up to me and said:
"Hey, can you stop? It's disgusting."
The words slit through my throat like thousand pieces of tiny glass shards
Not enough to kill me but it took my voice.
I stopped singing.
I started lowering my voice so no one could see the inner tender heart I've got.
But whenever I was alone, I would still fire up that karaoke machine and sing to my heart's content,
Because I couldn't understand why people would hate me for my voice and my lack of height,
Why is it girly when it's coming from a guy?

The wounds took many years to heal.
One day, here came this girl,
She heard my sound then to me she came,
She said:
"great bait mate I rate eight out of eight"
   [wink and exit]






PS The last line was a joke I made. However, after thinking about other possible lines I found this line is not that bad


Poem 1

my life

I’m not the kind of guy who likes to escape reality
But reality is too much for me.
They tell me to study, and usually I obey
But the happiness slips away

I love my lessons, don’t get me wrong
But when they speak their presence becomes so strong
Their tone changes and I am forced to sing along
Deep in my heart I wish happiness goes on

I am not the favourite, nor am i the last
I know my capability, it is so vast
Can’t wake up I drown in the past
Waiting for the day to burst through my cap

Reality is always gray and grim
I try to face with a grin
Hope is getting so slim and the pain stays-
Phantom limb

My grandma phones me and grandpa send me clips about holidays
Never have I missed the button for play
Don’t know if I’m a great kid or I’m just fake
Because never have I went back to their place

I don’t want to take their place
Gone are the days I could feel their embrace
But believe me Mom watch me race

I would set my pace they can never chase

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

_(:з」∠)_

_(:з」∠)_

[English] Poem reflection of The Metaphor



I can't spare myself from the guilt and the grief
What all these years meant for me
Was thrown away by me

I couldn't believe that I was afraid to stop their hurtful ways
Behind the duo tang I hid
But never a word I said

She was a durian
People would just look and turn away
But when you crack it open, you can see the essence hidden inside.

Her words like a fire lit my tender ember
But I didn't choose to save her
I betrayed her, I condemned her
Until I realized my heart was also hurt

I sat down and wrote a metaphor
So I know how I really loved her
Her teachings flowed through my words
For though she is gone, I will always remember

Thursday, October 30, 2014

[English] William's sorrow



It's the time of the year,

When hollyhocks blossom.

He sat behind the window,

listened to flowers' gossip.


Before he was an accomplished man

With wife and job in hand.

Now everyday he weeps and cries,

lost in his corrupted mind.


Then the bitch bites,

And takes his life away.

Oh the poor William,

Taking his one last breath.



Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Why a blog?


    I always disliked blogs, for no apparent reason at all. Kind of ironic that I opened my first blog at the age of 5. Well, I didn't really take care of it anyways. But having to really open a blog, and post on it regularly, maybe is something to look forwards to.
   
    It was hard to choose a link for the blog, and I believe you already see what I mean in the link. Still pretty surprised that this link is available. Or was.

    Talking about surprised, I'm surprised to find out that the correct spelling is surprised instead of suprised.

    Back on topic. What is the use of a blog? To record your life? To write about your mind? To share the moments with your friends? The possibility seems endless. But at the same time there's no possibility at all to me. Confusing, but that's how I feel. It's going to be hard keeping up the blog, but I'm going to try. There's got to be something to write about. My past life? I don' know.

    I'll probably end it here, since I still want to go to bed early. Anyways, good night guys.