I Am Not; I Am.

I am not

An intellect

A writer

A dreamer

An optimist

A thinker

An artist

A poser

A lover

A doer

A reader

A sleeper

But I love

To think of the things

That ought to be deeply thought

And express them in a way

I can do as freely as I choose

And long for a time when I can

Act in a way to save the world

And smile and say ‘it’s okay,

The world will be fine’

But it is a thought,

That might be thought

That needs to be painted

To screened on a sheet

To be dreamt of,

In future tense,

To be displayed in all

It’s wonderful glory,

It is love

At its highest,

A thing that ought to be done

A fairytale dream to be lived,

In the dark recesses of the night time,

I guess I am,

An intellect

A writer

A dreamer

An optimist

A thinker

An artist

A poser

A lover

A doer

A reader

A sleeper

Someone so ordinarily special.

One Beautiful Truth

Sometimes we struggle to find something meaningful;

Sometimes we despair in our search for something beautiful;

Sometimes we put hate on our shoulders for something regretted,

Because, we are all looking for that one beautiful truth,

The one that is constantly evading us,

That takes the form of someone we love,

That stands in an isolated place wanting to be found,

That was buried deep below for the protection of others.

But we still search for this one beautiful truth,

Because it is what fuels who we are,

Even if it breaks us to see the one we love in the arms of another,

Even if it has already been found by some other,

Even if it is the one truth that would change all lives,

We cannot hold back from this one beautiful truth,

Because that is what it is;

Beautiful for the very fact that it is

That one evasive painful truth

That one shining person in the darkness

That sole place of tranquillity

That gift given to us to cherish and to hold,

To the very last moment,

That which we want to breathe to live.

Ocean Song

When I stand on the sandy shores,

And listen to the sounds,

I hear something

That stirs the heart,

Awakening a beating,

I’d never heard before.

It sits in my chest,

Alongside my heart,

Thumping in rhythm,

Solid and firm.

A gentle sound,

A coarse reminder,

Of a song I had heard

So many times before,

I hear it always,

Hear it in me,

Louder and louder,

When I wish not to see,

The fists hitting flesh,

When I wish not to hear,

The sounds of agony,

Of pain and unwanting,

When I wish not want to do,

To pass on messages,

From one stoic to another…

When I stand on the shore,

It calls for me,

As I never thought before,

The magnetism of the song,

Its lure for my heart,

To take all the emptiness away,

To shed my soul of woe,

And to embrace me,

With a gentle warmness

Dissimilar to its image,

Of the rough and wild,

Even on the calmest of days,

There is no disguising,

What I know and what I see,

And still I am enchanted,

By the ocean and its song,

A deadly disease.

There is no folly greater than mine,

If I listen to the ocean’s song,

To forsake what I have,

For even emptiness is ‘something’,

Something that can be filled,

With the good promises of a better day,

A happier day,

When the sun is brighter,

When the sound of silence ends,

When then voices soften,

When I walk my own path,

That is not the end,

But to a place,

Where there is a future,

And I can break away

From this accursed hold,

Of a feeling I should know how to shake.

It is so tempting to

Just accept,

The sound of the ocean’s song.

It is so tempting,

For the waves to grab hold,

If only I let them,

If only I wanted

To embrace that watery embrace,

Then all I have to do is listen,

And be enchanted by the song,

To walk into that ocean,

And sleep the never ending sleep.

But I won’t be taken,

Won’t succumb,

For though the pull is strong,

I have a heart full of emptiness to fill.

[ Notes ] Sorry for sounding a tad bit gloomy, but the Taiwan Drama I’m watching (Gloomy Salad Days, as mentioned in my Random Music Moment) is very gloomy.  On the other and, I initially wrote this when I was on vacay, only that version was slightly different.

Book Spine Poetry #5

Trying this again, because well, I have so many more books now, and not just more, I had heaps from the library.  So:

Book Spine Poetry #5: Requiem

In the afterlight,

The Immortal rules.

 –

The Young elites,

In

the city & the city,

this world we live in…

 –

Just listen

Pandemonium…

 –

The girl with the iron touch,

Old magic.

 –

Poison princess,

The golden lily,

 –

The book thief

Keys to the repository…

 –

Imaginary girls

a thousand pieces of you

and,

All our yesterdays

Within the

Circle of Silence

Requiem.

DSC_0111

Sorry the picture is a little blurry…the pile was really high.

Dark Inside; Something So Dark.

How do we stand up

in the face of despair?

To fight against the

Storm, the hanging cloud

Over heads?

How do we look beyond

What stares at us in the face?

It seems impossible.

It is impossible.

It can’t be possible.

It drowns us through

And through

Washes us over

And over,

It clings to us,

Taking over our minds

Dipping us deeper

In the dark recesses

Of our greatest fears.

It may not bring tears

To the eyes,

But it is the same…

Unending sadness,

Weighted hopelessness

Unrestrained fearfulness,

That though we fight

May not fight

Wish to defeat,

There is a light

Somewhere

Just waiting for that moment

That time to shine

Down on us below

Deep in that dark cavern,

We all hope

To find the happiness

That will take away this

Endless sadness,

But we all know

Only some of us…

But still we must try…

For why should we let

Something so dark

Decide our fate?

A Moment of Peace

Is so hard to find,

Yet we strive for it,

Search for it,

And spend the time to work

Just a little harder

So that in those moments,

A chance comes by

And we slip away

Out of sight,

And sit in that quiet place

And close our eyes,

And revel in our moment of peace,

To forget about our troubles,

And take the time to think about ourselves

Or to not think at all

And just appreciate the world we live in

Even if for just for one moment,

When nothing else exists

But you and the world,

And the thoughts the dwell

In the recesses of your mind,

Waiting to be thought about

Reminisced about

Smiled and cried about.

For such a little moment of time

In the long life span of our short lives

This moment of peace

Is just as precious

As all those others moments

Of family time

Friend’s time

And stressful hours.

[Notes] Originally I didn’t know what to write, having lacked the time and the inspiration, and then I realised, it was because I was being so busy, or having so much piled on me even though I wanted to do all the things that were handed to me.  So I realised just how important finding that moment of peace is!

Beauty Is Relative

I look at this sentence

“She is the most gorgeous of all”

And think what an overstatement that is,

That is something only in your opinion,

And I hardly share it at all,

Don’t include me in your thinking,

That this girl is the most gorgeous of all

Because really,

What is ‘gorgeous’?

What is ‘beauty’?

It is within the shape of every brow

Thick or thin,

In the lips, narrow and wide,

In cheeks,

High, low or fat,

In eyes,

Big and bright,

Small and intelligent,

Curious and brave.

What is ‘pretty’?

What is ‘attractive’?

That is which resides in the shape,

And size, and temperament

Of you and I,

Tall, thin, thick, petite,

What does it mean to be…

Someone beautiful?

Someone ugly?

Isn’t it all just relative?

The way we think?

The way I see it,

We are all someone ‘gorgeous’

A ‘beauty’ to those who matter,

Someone ‘pretty’ and ‘attractive’

No matter what imperfections

Are perceived as ‘ugly’.

So don’t include me in your thinking

That that girl is ‘gorgeous’

For though she might be

To me,

There is probably someone I think

Who is more gorgeous than that,

Even if I am the only one who thinks so,

Isn’t that all that matters to me?

Beauty is relative,

Face and otherwise,

For we cannot all be

The imaginary,

Versatile

Definition of ‘perfection’,

Beauty, after all, is merely ‘relative’.

For The People We Love

For the people we love,

We hope and pray.

For the people we love,

We cry our tears.

For the people we love,

We would do anything.

For the people we love,

We never want to lose them.

For the people we love,

We will protect them.

For the people we love,

We will be their sacrifice.

For the people we love,

We will never turn away.

And for the people we love,

We never ever want for them,

To be the spectacle of a public charade.

They are the people we love,

And we love them the most,

In the way that no one else can.

For the people we love,

We will hold our own.

For the people we love,

We will grieve

And we will live.

The Misunderstanding.

It all begins with a slight misunderstanding

Coupled with a light heart,

A sensitive soul,

And a personality the force

Of a gust of wind

And in reality, that is all it needs

For the fire to be sparked,

Force the flames to spread…

Others words are nothing,

Not even helpful, they are

But fuel for the fire,

Fuel even without meaning to…

And it spreads,

Roaring,

Flaring,

Rearing its ugly head

And even though…

When it finally settles…

When all that’s left is,

Apologies and regret,

It’s sour.

There is sourness in their hearts,

A sourness in the mouths left for those

Who watched and joined

In the chorus of defence

And attack,

And also those who were too…

Afraid to speak up

Because it is not their fault

That it became so scary.

It is not their fault at all,

But it is hard to take part,

And to stand aside,

Not knowing what to do,

Because it expanded so quickly…

Spread like wildfire

Burned so brightly, So…

Intently before dissipating

By the force of others…

Others who feel no better

Than those who had been hurt,

Offended,

Insulted,

Defended.

In the end,

We question, for those with a conscience,

Did we do right?

Did we say the right thing?

Will it happen again?

….I’ve had enough, is a thought,

Just one thought,

That might flare in the minds,

Of those who had tried to maintain the peace,

Because how does one cope?

With all that happens?

It just becomes too much…

These little misunderstandings…

It seems so difficult sometimes,

To be a little less selfish,

And to care a little more,

Of those who are looking on,

And watching,

As the seeds are sown,

As the rifts start to appear,

From just one little misunderstanding.

A Dying Passion.

The tears of distress

Awash me whole;

They flow undoubtedly,

Flowing evermore;

Encase me,

Suffocate me,

Strangle my throat,

Bogging it up.

I’m falling,

I’m failing,

I can’t find the place in my heart

To express the words I want to say,

There’s a pit of darkness,

And coil of something tight,

Squeezing in on me,

Pressingly.

I want to cry

I want to scream

I want something to take away this pain,

This uncomfortable feeling of unease

The butterflies in my stomach

That churn and pool and flap away.

I have a thousand words to say,

I don’t know how to express

What shouldn’t need to be spoken

But understood with a glance,

I cannot want to drown

In this tormenting

Overflowing

Feelings.

And just when I think I am free,

I am unfettered

Unchained by the chains that bind me

By the obligations that hold me

That turns love into hate

Passion into pain

And I feel the urge, that I have never…

Ever…

Wanted to feel….

It’s so sudden,

But all I want…is to painlessly drain away this pain,

This self-hatred,

This overwhelming desire.

I want to speak what’s on my mind,

Speak as I have never spoken before,

It shan’t be easy,

It shan’t be a wonderful sight,

But though love has turned to hate,

I’m sure one day,

I shall regain this love of mine,

And fine that old passion,

For surely, it’s not too late.

To Walk That Line

Hi All! I deeply apologise for not attending to my blog lately.  I have been grossly negligent.  Mostly, I have been busy writing my thesis for my 4th year of Uni, and that has taken up a lot of my time unfortunately!  I shall do my best to post, however, it seems I shall be posting ever couple of weeks.  I hope you like this poem, enjoy~

 

 

I’m terrified to walk the line

A line that seems so hard to walk

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again

To walk another step again.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again,

To one another step forward, and put a foot,

Two steps in front.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again,

To one another step forward, and put a foot,

Two steps in front, and halt, pausing,

Thinking, dreaming, pausing….

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again,

To one another step forward, and put a foot,

Two steps in front, and halt, pausing,

Thinking, dreaming, pausing….

I wait, as the wind blows,

The sun beats down on my back

And water from the river below splash against my face.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again,

To one another step forward, and put a foot,

Two steps in front, and halt, pausing,

Thinking, dreaming, pausing….

I wait, as the wind blows,

The sun beats down on my back

And water from the river below splash against my face,

And the earth is hard against my bare feet,

A reminder that I can feel the pain and hardships

Of a woman on a mission.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again,

To one another step forward, and put a foot,

Two steps in front, and halt, pausing,

Thinking, dreaming, pausing….

I wait, as the wind blows,

The sun beats down on my back

And water from the river below splash against my face,

And the earth is hard against my bare feet,

A reminder that I can feel the pain and hardships

Of a woman on a mission,

Walking always forward,

Following the line of my heart,

Searching for that something.

 

I’m terrified to walk the line,

A line that seems so hard to walk,

I tremble as I take one step,

And stumble, tripping, I stand again,

To one another step forward, and put a foot,

Two steps in front, and halt, pausing,

Thinking, dreaming, pausing….

I wait, as the wind blows,

The sun beats down on my back

And water from the river below splash against my face,

And the earth is hard against my bare feet,

A reminder that I can feel the pain and hardships

Of a woman on a mission,

Walking always forward,

Following the line of my heart,

Searching for that something….

That is not just an endless dream.

Wonders of the World

I think of the wonders of the world,

I think about the ancient wonders,

The modern wonders,

The technological,

But then,

I realise,

However amazing they are,

They are not what I was thinking of at all.

I’m thinking of the wonders,

Not made of stone,

Of steel,

Of copper wire,

But wonders of the heart,

Of the people we meet,

Of the very belief

That we live in a world of something so much more.

The seven wonders,

Beautiful and bright,

Within my sights

I can see with my eyes,

The things that change the world,

One action at a time.

My ears fill with the sounds

Of happiness, sadness,

Laughter, and needs for anger management,

They scream at loud noises,

And lull to the silence,

It roars,

The silence roars,

And then it settles,

Becoming a bumble,

Of sound and voices,

And I touch,

With my fingers,

The sights that touch me,

And the sounds that sing to me,

I touch, and feel

The hot and the cold,

The brittle and the hard,

And taste what it means

To be alive,

Living and breathing,

Existing and feeling,

It tastes like freedom,

Bitterly sweet,

And that I feel,

This bitterness,

I can’t help but feel,

But I don’t complain,

And complain beyond doubt,

Because I know,

That this is something I can feel,

Even though I might doubt,

This bitterness,

I cannot deny that I do not feel it

Just as I cannot deny the laughter

That escapes upon intervals,

Bubbling and boiling,

Spilling over and uncontrollable,

Spreading, until it blooms

In the centre of one chest,

The feeling of love

For the incomparable,

Things, that make us humans,

Go beyond our very natures

To be the very best we can…

For those we love,

The sights that we adore,

The sounds that we hear,

Within the silence of our thoughts,

The touch of hot,

And cold, the taste

Of the feelings we retain,

That makes us laugh

And sometimes cry,

We are humans,

Tore by own affliction,

Growing,

Day by day,

By the seven wonders

Of our hearts.

 

 

N.b.  I had a little issue writing this…no offense to those I may cause offense to unintentionally as I realise that maybe not all of us have the pleasure of seeing, hearing and feeling what my poem discussing.  This makes me feel somewhat troubled, but I wanted still to express how I felt about the world.

Wondrous Knight.

The wondrous knight,

Carries his sword gallantly,

Striding through the moonlight,

With his horse and man in tow.

He will save any damsel in distress,

With one hand,

He will take the damsel in red dress,

And carry her away to safety.

But wondrous knight,

So seemingly wonderful,

Glowing in the light

And fighting like a gallant warrior,

Against the signs of darkness,

And supposed decay.

She is the damsel,

Not so in distressed,

Watching as he carves

The life out of lives,

The breath of last breaths,

A blade too sharp,

And gallant, not quite so,

And she cries,

Cries,

As the red,

Deepens in her dress,

The material, silk,

Caressingly close to her skin,

The wondrous knight,

Does not know,

That his beauty,

His gallantry,

His knighthood,

Does not hide,

The core inside,

The core of unforgiving,

Turning the yin and the yang

A neverending circle,

Of good deeds,

And brewing hate.

Oh wondrous knight,

The damsel should cry,

But she does not.

Instead,

She holds unto her heart,

The burden of the sorrows,

And whispers to the pains,

That she will,

Undoubtedly carry away,

As she runs,

And runs,

From the so-called Wondrous Knight.

On The Other Side.

I’m looking out to the world

From this side of the bars.

It’s wide and grey,

The world,

Not the walls

That surround me.

I wonder if,

When I walk outside,

Will I find a world to live in.

I’m frightened

Of the rain that falls

It’s been so long,

Since I’ve been touched,

In that kind of way.

Addicted To Grapes.

Life is like being

Addicted to Grapes.

Piece by piece,

I’m addicted to grapes,

Its sweetness,

And its juice,

The big and the small,

The juicy sweet,

The slightly sour,

But still,

You eat them anyway,

Right away,

Or in a few days,

Because,

Grapes are like life,

To be consumed

And not wasted.

Life is like grapes,

Plentiful and colourful,

Assorted and varied.

The taste of summer,

The taste of winter,

The taste of those seasons in between,

Grapes are like,

The moments in life,

And I am addicted,

No matter what.

 

Unfinished Thoughts.

The thought begins,

As the words tumble out of your mouth,

It builds in anticipation,

Waiting in line for its turn,

Queuing patiently,

Wearing a patiently impatient smile.

It drifts away, and comes back

When it notes it’s still in line,

With the queue of words ahead,

Not getting any shorter.

They sliding off the tongue,

One phrase at a time,

One sentence at a chunk,

One paragraph.

End.

The night has fallen,

And the thought hangs ten,

Waiting in the cold confines,

Of the busy mind,

Waiting,

Knowing well,

They are words and thoughts meant to be said,

Hanging,

They are joined, one by one,

Phrase by phrase,

Sentence by sentence,

Pages and pages,

Of more thoughts and feelings,

Waiting to be said.

But sometimes…

They age, from memory to the abyss…

Fading, disappearing,

Become something once thought…

Forgotten,

Important?

Sitting in the back of the mind…

Hoping to be remembered,

These thoughts,

Of thoughts,

Of half phrases

Half sentences,

Half thoughts,

Waiting,

Unfinished,

These Unfinished Thoughts.

The Rain That Drenches the Tar.

I think about the rain that drenches the tar

Dying its faded greyness changing it to its shadow self

I think about the days of the sun and happiness,

Thinking about the weather, bringing me some light,

I brush my fingers across the window,

And wipe away the consuming steam,

A measure of my life, marked,

It covers the window,

Shading it white,

Palely reflecting, the rain on the other side.

I brush my fingers across the window,

And mark a memory for the morrow…

I have been thinking about tomorrow,

Treading softly through my sorrow,

My feet are steady,

Unsteadily standing,

Trying to stand tall,

To raise arms high,

To see tomorrow without a sigh,

I ask the world and all,

About the day to come,

But all I hear are the chants of birds in a distant future

The cries of pain from the past,

And the echoing songs of the present,

Over and over,

Merged as one,

As noise that roars,

In my ears and behind closed eyes,

I’m terrified,

Yet hopeful

As the rain that drenches the tar,

Making a mark in the present day,

Almost predicting,

The future to be,

Like a cup and its tea leaves.

That is what a rain drenched tar,

Is like on the day after rain.

 

Valentine’s

 

Valentine’s is a day of love,

And ever giving.

It’s a day of sharing,

Of happiness

And true loves.

Valentine’s is the day to cherish,

The treasures that mean the most to us.

There’s chocolate,

And roses

In abundance.

There’s an overabundance of love,

Of shows of affection and holding hands,

Kisses as sweet as chocolate and syrup.

And then it’s a day,

One in three-sixty-five,

When love is celebrated all around.

With roses or without,

With chocolates of love,

Or out of obligation,

There is love all around,

Between friends,

Lovers,

Family,

And boys and girls,

The love is there,

Shared by all,

With or without roses,

But always,

Not without the feelings expected,

Short and simple.

 

Just So You Know.

Just so you know,

We are who we are.

Just so you know,

We will be who we want.

Just so you know,

We don’t have forever.

We are nothing but a star in the dark time

Waiting for a moon to shine upon us,

Giving us the sun’s rays,

So that we can twinkle high above,

Stars, they shine all night long

They give us the song’s that we cannot sing

They are the celestial gods,

These hot balls of fire,

Are dragging us apart,

Spinning our worlds

Turning our heads,

Giving us some kind of hope,

But we are the makers,

The dreamers and the doers,

We look at the stars

And see something we don’t see,

We look at the moon,

And feel the tides change,

We shade from the sun,

And dare to glimpse its brightness.

Just so you know,

We are not puppets,

On a string to be mastered,

Just so you know,

We are not bound by the fears

That holds us at bay.

Just so you know,

We are the makers of our futures.

 

Book Spine Poetry #5

Book Spine Poetry #5: The Darkest Craving
  Cleopatra’s Moon…
      Lily of the Nile…

     Foretold…
     Wildefire…

   Defy the Dark…
      Through the Ever Night…

   Die for me…
      Poison Princess

   The Darkest Craving.

I present my second Book Spine Poetry from that particular lot of library books. Turns out I had eighteen in total, and those in the poem were only a few! Well, I can’t be surprised, I did go a little overboard and then I had to go and read through all them pretty quickly before the four weeks I had them for were up. It was certainly a rush that’s for sure! Hopefully my next lot won’t be as hectic. Hope you like my poem, though I think it’s pretty cheesy and excuse my blurry pic below!

2014-01-30 09.55.12


 

Cleopatra’s Moon by Vicky Alvear Shecter,
Lily of the Nile by Stephanie Dray,
Foretold by Carrie Ryan (and others),
Wildefire by Karsten Knight,
Defy the Dark by Saundra Mitchell (and others),
Through the Ever Night by Veronica Rossi,
Die for me by Amy Plum,
Poison Princess by Kresley Cole,
The Darkest Craving by Gena Showalter