The Party

- never ends it seems

Glowing red and yellow, with

Glasses raised, as wafts of warm soup

And cold air envelops bare arms and

Neatly waxed strands

Hair-raising Top 40s set on loop

More music listened to than one should

Salivated tongues wag, dripping over

Rolled over fats

On plates of porcelain, such 

Cold plates and warm food

Cold heart and warm hands

Cold feet and warm lights

Flickering hopes and dreams 

All condensed in a moment

That breathes life again into 

Ordinary conversations

Ordinary people

and original rites and rituals

The candle is lit

Cold plates and warm food

Cold heart and warm hands

It’s a merry time around the huckleberry tree

The Cobbler

I walked by, day by day
The roadside where he sat, with his plastic stool
And tools of varying sizes
Metal and wood converging with the smell of old age
He smiled a toothless grin
Creases feebly collecting like mud puddles
A buoyant wart in a sea of marbled lines

And shoes
In various shades of earth
and concrete
and deep voids of black
Hanging by threads undone
Hands moist with polish and fun
A tap-tap-tap with an wooden gun

No expensive paper needed to dream, there

The Modern Depression

At grandpa's house lay a chair.
It was grey, with matted tears
Like a festering rash, old hair
Fabric clutching its wooden frame with lots of care

And when I sat on it,

A creaking welcomes me to his embrace,
its warmth a respite from the cold and rainy outside
A gentle touch on my cheek
and loving words at my face

A suckling of a teet

I lay, a lazy drone of the fridge
Listening to the old radio blare the 70s
Once again a lil' kid
Sinking into a beautiful dream

When my phone rings.

Is it possible, that in our millennial quest to become extraordinary, we would forget to appreciate the ordinary, happy things in life?

An Encounter with a Madwoman

I watch her as she approaches.

Heels digging into soft carpet

Yet the harsh cling clang of 

Her files bristle in her bag

She turns and 

But why must she look into the mirror

And only see us?

The child clamoring for attention

Behind a silent smile

Painted face and glassy eyes

A voice that counts miles

And a hand that hands out our tithes

And a measuring stick

The child screams through a vacuum

Behind translucent lens

She hears the chatter

Of the easy way out

Calm voices that flatter

And her palms with her fives

And a measuring stick

The

Woman knows her place.

Only when we give, can we be free

“Dedication takes a lifetime, dreams only last for a night”

The Night-Time Friend

When we see the moon

We sing

Guitar strings float across an empty mind

Voices we hear from a distant apartment

Are they singing?

Or is it just colors we see

From days we remember

A faint echo on a jet black sky

A story told

That we cannot remember

It is a warm night, yet a certain cold blows from behind

We turn

but all I see is

All but I see is

You

There's No Finish Line in Sight

We can do this.

It's time to ignore the pressing fears.

It's time to stand tall above the illusory obstacles.

It's time to overcome heavy sleep,

the inertia that plagues the passionate beat of passion.

No one that I can listen to, but my own angry voice telling me to move and never, ever, stop.

8.39

We need noise to deafen the loneliness in our hearts

But the only voice we hear is the love unrequited

独自

一个独自的享受

一串串细小的笛声

在耳边念念不忘

诉说着夜中的秘密

一个独自的思念

一串串不明的泪珠

在脸边一滴一滴

地诉说心里的愿望

于过去的自我相认

于现在的真相精通

于自己的面相不明

11.11

That force holding your breath
Like your hidden dragons bellowing
Gripping tightly on your respiratory system
Eyes closed
You move
But you stay within your rut
Of a mind that cannot speak
Of words that can't be said
Of feelings you can't deny
But you can't obey

You move, but you stay on the ground
While the present is in flight
yet the past passes away
beautiful moments wisp away
A melting photograph
burnt by ashes of your own passion

You live to dream
but you dream of death
And you wake to not living

00:44

Recently received an accidental email from a law school in the U.K. inviting me to visit their open house as an "student with an offered place". It brought me back to 2012 again, where I just received my I.B. results and possibilities were endless in terms of where I'd end up working in the far-off horizon.

Fast forward to today, where I am studying a business degree in a local university; where I spend my free time dreaming about a successful career as an actor singer host, where it somehow seems that I'll be working a 9-5, low paying job in some firm in the near future.

In my mind are what-ifs. If I had somehow succumbed to reality, and spent all my time working on my formulae, I might somehow more than scrape through this degree and perhaps end up in a high flier job, with a comfortable future to look forward to.

Maybe if I had said yes to my offer, took a loan, and went to that faraway place to carve a pedestal for myself.

Or even now, perhaps I should cease dreaming, and focus solely on my academics, and maybe... just maybe I'll graduate with a good class honors.

But in my heart is a child, that aches for life to be lived. A child who wants to see the world through a kaleidoscope, to see colours when there are none.

A child who dreams about living, who lives through dreams.

We actors are all dreamers, and there's nothing but life to stop us.

Unrequited Love

You swept me off my feet
And left it hanging
Danced on the moon and stars
And left me churning
For dreams are beautiful

But we wake up rolling around in reality and we wish'd we'll sleep again and frolic amongst deep black illusions and never breathe the cold air of coarse realization that we could love but it's never a promise that you'd be made a fool of love and love itself as a recurring theme in your life and so I end my day and go to sleep

And I dream yet again
It leaves me happy
With photos love and wine
I hang them up on
The ground of my two feet

Asleep

It is beautiful to dream.
To dream in colours, multitudes
reflected in the pupils in eyes of one dear
To hear songs of the sea in gentle whispers
under warm nestled blankets
To close one's eyes and see the rise and fall
of sweet rest

Memories one holds dear