Memory

Dying beams filter’d by translucent blinds,
Setting dust particles in this room to faintly glowing.
The clocks here are at a silent standstill,
Standing vigil over this ruined abode.

The ash in the fireplace,
Where fires beyond count used to blaze
Sully the moth-eaten rug at it’s edge.
A haze of wear upon time-worn wealth.

I remember this table,
We used to bind our pride to it,
Sacrificing it to unpredictable gods
For sinful riches and faint happiness.

This cross, upon which we crucified our humanity,
Nailing it to rose-red wood with nails of cold steel.
Steel, so they will not rust. Will not corrode,
Will not disappear into Time like so many other things.

So many memories. They overflow,
Drowning me in their over-enthusiastic embrace,
Smothering me. The walls they chafe me,
Cutting me anew with the failures of such a distant past.

I near-flee to the door.
Intricate runes and patterns carved mercilessly
Into the oaken body of a long dead tree.
Dust and termite tracks tickle it’s once gleaming bodice.

Outside, on the other side,
Winter burns it’s mark into the world.
Blowing up clouds of powder’d snow in drafts,
Driving the little people back into their hovels.

But the memories. The recollections.
The upsurge of unwanted emotions.
Gods! How they torture a soul,
How they drive the sanity from my skull.

Turning, wheeling on the spot.
Ghosts of faces, ghastly hands that grasp me cold.
Colder than the blizzard on the other side.
Whispers, muttered invocations, reminders.

I turn. And keep turning.
Spinning all into a merging of colors,
Sickening me.
Oh pray, Darkness take me.

When Bukit Timah Drowns.

It’s like the world is crying,
Showering it’s inhabitants with icy tears,
Raining down from heaven laden with many sorrows,
Pelting and dealing out grief for free.

My tears too, join this river.
Flowing free from a source deep inside,
Bubbling forth to behold reality
And to fall, singing a chorus of pain.

I should be bleeding, somewhere.
But no crimson stains my body.
I feel pain, somewhere here.
But i can’t locate the injury.

I stumble and trip
As i lumber into this unfamiliar ‘scape.
Crossing muddy plains dead without life.
Distance colors my vision, and despair chokes my soul.

I remembered something of sun,
And warmth. But the present cold presses harder,
And i forget everything short of my name.
For even that, as i now struggle, is filled with hard doubt.

The road is long,
And graves are hard to dig.
I think I’ll lie still, further up ahead,
In that puddle of a gentle lake.

Drowning still, in forgetfulness
And troubled misgivings.

Slam this.

The work never ends. That’s pretty true. It also has this fierce tendency of being carried forward past 5pm. Sticking onto, latching onto my mind like some dying lamprey, doing all it can to take what little vitality is left me at the end of the day.

Fierce.

The morning was a fireball of pending disaster and pain. Serious amounts of nonsense, flowing, non-stop, through this little electric window that enjoys with a fierce delight the portrayal and display of prophetic doom.

And i ran out of cigarettes and money.

So the morning rambles on, like a clumsy giant waken from centuries of slumber, completely oblivious to the damage, destruction and suffering it distributes, albeit unevenly, in it’s attempt to reach a latrine before he covers the Earth in a second flooding. It’s ghastly visage is distorted by a bleary mask, sign that sleep has not totally removed her influence.

I can’t believe i walked into a wall. Fucking wall.

Meanwhile, elsewhere, darkness falls upon a village of numbers. Vision is impossible, sight has left them. Abandoning them to whatever fate the old gods dictate. Blind and unseen. Not a good combination as things go.

I need to hit someone. Quick.

In Stillness Yearning

They rush away,
Glad for this burst of freedom.
No thoughts on whether they stray,
Just aware of this need to simply, get away.

I sit here,
Lit up from the outside
By this intense radioactive glow,
Wondering why oh why does Time pass so slow.

I desire food.
And sleep. Rest.
Escape from this tumultuous mess.
And dreams of a silent love quietly alluded.

The curtains close
On this hectic day at last.
The noises and sights fade like an ending prose,
Speeding past, fleeing through, shutting finally fast.

By God,
For he knows better than I.
I miss you. Gently upon water i trod,
Wishing with every bit of my dying heart that i could fly.

Not even left to me
A single tear to cry.

I Live to Die

I love this game. A game that doesn’t tolerate mistakes of any kind.

Stop quick sniping. And start running more. MARATHON PRO!!!

My eyes

I cannot see myself
Surrounded with love and life.
I cannot see myself,
Down this stormy road even being alive.

All these faces, and familiar voices.
Love is thick in the air, a wonderful feeling.
The fading of unmade choices
Beneath the sweet voice of a child joyfully laughing.

Where I am, the storm clouds silently brewing,
Like the waking of some grim giant from ages-long slumber.
And yet in the distance there is light still shining,
Gleaming in their faces, my beautiful silver lining.

I see all the peaceful times,
The moments of delight,
The seconds of joy.
And I. Fate’s toy.

When Night Falls, So Do The Trees

How can i begin to say
What it is?
When i can bare grasp it with my hands.
Like air that disrupts all my plans.

How do i describe what it’s like?
This emptiness inside,
At and near the very core.
Dissolving everything and still wanting more.

It’s exhausting
Sliding along.
It’s like i’m fleeing,
And everything feels so wrong.

Time flies fleeting by,
And yet it stands stone still.
The shadow’s statue cries,
Watching as this feeble body dies.

Despair.

Mynas

Chirping unceasing,
An odd squeak and click.
Plummage sable gleaming,
Gold beak and an awkward flick.

Moving in twos, in threes,
In fours and fives.
Taking comfort in company,
In the glow of other lives.

I sit here, wreathed in clouds.
An oddity to them, intently foraging.
Sometimes earning a wary look,
The same sort given to a recalcitrant in a crowd.

They peck, and wrestle.
Screaming displeasure in competition.
Flapping and fluttering,
With the others intently watching.

Tonight I Will Dream

I’m walking paths I’ll always remember,
Paths so well-trod my imprint remains.
Dug deep into emerald green turf,
Soft as a carpet over the land.

The trees know my breath,
And i know their song.
The whistle in the leaves above my head,
The passage of wild breezes blowing past.

The animals know my name.
A wild wolf does not attack kin,
Nor does the deer fear a brother.
We wear the same fabric and stamp.

But i know i have to wake, to leave.
Replacing this life for another,
Like pieces of clothing in a tired wardrobe.
The constant swapping that will wear them out.

Fire. Fire.
I wish i could cauterize the wound
I inflict everytime i look away.
Everytime i turn aside.

To purify. To heal.
To eradicate a fantasy that can never be,
A world that never was.
But it was, in me.

I fly on wings of dreams,
That melt away
To naught but a vague memory
At dawn’s hallow’d breaking.

In Persona

All the old aches and pains,
The worries and frowns,
Have all faded away.
Flying on feather’d prayers.

Today was like yesterday,
and yesterday was like the day before.
Days so normal they leave me speechless and silent,
With absolutely nothing to say.

Living in love and light,
Clouds of thunderous hate,
The wind of momentary worry,
And the scent of peace come late.