Rainy Days

you passed me by

2005-08-09T17:21:00.000+08:00

you passed me by
If at that moment
You had not turned
But I instead had run to you
Maybe everything would've been fine.
Then I could say,
"Everything is gonna be alright."
But I let that chance slip by
And all I can utter is
Goodbye.

-------------

Sometimes
You know you need that
Lonely moment just to
Vanish from the
Insane world
Alone, you can just FLY.

Fly
fly
fly up

High into the sky.

Summerrrrr

2005-08-07T14:54:00.000+08:00

Summer Smile :)
Summer
It's already Summer!
And it's only in Summer Time
I can see your smile, ever-ready
to embrace me. The two eyes shining
With excitement - you've come for your
special holiday! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
if summer was here to stay, your smile would too
rid yourself of that singlet and don the yukata,
walk with me at the beach - what an odd combi!
Remove that golden pendant, gold isn't needed
Here. . Hold my hand now, under that hot sun
But I give a sneeze , and. you laugh gently .
Your laughter, so musical To my ears. yep.
It's summer time. I will know it. yes.
Because you're here. Notice that
When this poem Ends, you'll see
It forms into a
SMILE.
:D

-----------

Guess, What Do You See?
You should catch the summer time
Already, it is half gone.
Many times we sat at the beach
Are? Don't you think of anything else? Then...
Please think of our warm silence, engulfed
In that soft moment, taken by the view

We don't have to pass ketai messages
A recollection of memories, I was

So afraid and yet dying to catch your eye
U only knew how to smile shyly
Kross that boundary now, we made the move
In this poem, what do you see?

--------------

Summer in Insanity>
Summer.
It's really summer.
But it only means
You're having to be away
You only come home
to a
big.
fat.
day.
And we utter rubbish
the whole day long
As rubbish-y as
This poem.

We're just drowned in insanity.
ATSUI~

Untitled

2005-07-17T16:24:00.000+08:00

and as the window closed, she shut her eyes,
the fluid crystal trickling from the corner of her eye.
her legs dangling, far far far up
away fron anybody
tortured by the familiarity
of loneliness
embraced by the caresses
of silence
hurt by the chain
of concealment
Killed by the thought
of denial.

Quiet Rain

2005-05-22T12:52:00.000+08:00

That lullaby plays
I sit quietly with my notes
Gazed out the window, I did
And the brilliant blue that was there
before, now faded to a pale grey.

Peace
Right before the storm begins.
And the leaves shook a little
Then more violently

Torn from her brothers and sisters
The green teardrop fluttered to the floor.
I watched it.

And at that moment I stood up
Leaving that warm seat

Venturing into some unknown corner.

--

each stanza gets shorter and shorter, because it signifies I must learn to be alone/independent as time goes by...

The Music Box in the Rain

2005-05-22T12:41:00.000+08:00

and in that silent rain
he came
I heard the music box play
as it fell from the tabletop
its innocent poece resounding in my head

i did not shiver
i could not
as his steps widened
i did not retract
but held my ground Expressionless

a note was missed
but the music just replayed
Round and Round
it went
but the music was already imperfect

WHO brought me out of the misery,
made me smile
gave me hope
embraced me
and YET deceived me?

OR was it me who
Deceived myself, veiled
away, without a try
to Push back the curtains
Wallowing in my dead misery

the rain poured on.
You still radiate warmth
I gently picked up the music box.
Closed it.
But the tune POUNDED in my heart.

Suki desu.
Daisuki.

--

This poem was inspired by my fanfic, 'Long Silence' haha....

Some short poems...

2005-04-22T19:28:00.000+08:00

Just two short poems I did while resting a little from my homework and waiting for the videos to be cut..
Both are untitled.

--

Fly as high
Dance as you might
For tomorrow may be
Goodbye.

--

The cage was opened,
You spread
your wings out to the sky.
Oblivious
Towards the glint beside.
The white feathers, rusting to grey
Touches the SKY

AND Falls again.

Black and White (CCA Assignment)

2005-03-29T10:26:00.000+08:00

I opened my eyes to greet those of Brother’s. Every morning, the same sharp black-and-whiteness woke me up to a new, peaceful day.

I grasped Brother’s large, rough hand, my short legs barely catching up with his. He held his camera with his other hand. I did not bother to request for him to put down his speed, for I was as excited as he in our trip. We lived alone, without those smooth or experienced hands caring for us. Yet we were contented.

He raised his camera, and I craned my neck to stare at the camera screen. Brother only laughed at my feeble attempt, and I pouted, folding my arms. After seconds, he sat down on the ground, motioning for me to sit with him. Instead of a vibrantly coloured photo, a black and white one replaced it instead.

I gave Big Brother a questioning look, which he only replied with a smile. I received the camera from his hands, looking closely at the dull picture. For a moment, I could not comprehend why Big Brother made that shot in such simple, dead colours.

Yet, everything in that photo seemed to suddenly come alive. How strange, that a coloured photo, as one usually witnesses in visual, hides the harsh reality of what lies beyond those colours. Yet two unsought colours brought out everything, making the captured scene so vulnerable to exposure. Coloured photos, no matter how radiant, will fade one day, and remove the façade of it all.

A large droplet of rain landed harshly on my nose, and I brushed it off. Brother swung me up into his arms, rushing for shelter as the rain chased us away in sheets.

The Broken Step

2005-02-06T13:58:00.000+08:00

It was yet another simple day. Or so it seemed to the children running home from school with their friends. I sat on the steps of the school, watching the students go by, themselves laughing at the little jokes they spoke of.

Yet, on my own little face, no smile had ever graced it. Nor was I ever approached by any. Nobody ever asked if I wanted to be their friend. The wind messed up my already poorly trimmed hair, making me feel like a ragged child indeed.

The silence around me was deafening. Yet the other children could not hear it. In their eyes, I was but a part of the steps, part of the broken step I sat beside. The adults passed me by, bringing their precious jewels home, shaking their head at me. I knew what they were thinking. I knew it. The adults with stern eyes and firm hands saw me as an arrogant child, unwilling to speak to my schoolmates. Yet, there was also the other group of adults, who had a soft look in their eyes, whom children could tiptoe up to pour secrets into their eager ears. They showered me with sympathy. I did not want that. I hated their sympathy. I shunned it away.

As much as I shunned cars. I loathed them. They were what made me who I am today – an eight-year-old who could not feel warmth from the closest kin. Every night, the scene is played in my dreams, of the blinding flash of light, the screeching of horns, and most of all, my mother’s screaming. It was the most fear-invoking scream I had ever heard, no matter how young I was. The horror in my mother’s eyes before I had blacked out still stayed vivid in my mind.

It was unfair, unfair that I had to watch the children cling on so tightly to their parents, but I had none to cling to. Night after night, I reached out to grope for those warm arms to embrace me when I cried, but none was there. I was alone.

Most of the large crowd of children had gone by now. Yet, now, I no longer felt lonely. There was the broken step to sit by me, to comfort me that I was not the only broken piece of jewel.

I slowly closed my eyes, feeling the light breeze caress my face, then brought in my knees and hugged them. A tiny smile spread across my face. I morphed into the broken step.

Hiding

2005-02-01T16:43:00.000+08:00

The wind blows,
How cold it is!
Yet the child wandered still,
Under the Autumn trees;
Made for solitude,
Born for no purpose,
It wanders far, yet none watches.

The sister rushes round,
Gracing across the floor,
While thoughts fought in her mind,
Tearing the calm.
Yet though pruposeful she seemed,
She felt not the need,
To be wanted, and to live.

The mother watches,
Sewing by the fire,
Her weary eyes travelled
Tracing the steps of her daughter.
Her son was gone,
Her youngest lost,
Yet she never let her tears fall.

But the curtains fall, she lies alone,
Just like her daughter,
In the other room.
She weeps, and weeps,
Yet found no console,
And there in the room,
She concealed herself so.

Misfit

2005-01-14T15:59:00.000+08:00

Concealed behind but a veil,
Enveloped by darkness.
And as the breeze blows
Sunlight blinds the eye.

Mourning, for what used to be,
A foreign land, treaded upon
Leaves no comfort to the anxious mind
Yet emptiness replaces it in whole.

Behind the facade of smiles,
Bitter tears are hidden.
Loneliness embraces her,
Yet fault sits beside her.

She makes no sign to run,
Nor does she embrace the fault
Though it seeps into her
Her forehead creases, with every crawling moment.

A crimson line forming,
As her lips finally tore apart,
Still the voice was empty,
Faraway, though near it was.

Thriftless sighs she breathed,
For it were paid by none.
The rainfall urged to crash down
on mounds, yet she yielded not to it.

Only she holds the key
To the door of the world beyond
Yet in the darkness she groped,
Still the key lies hidden.

The other doors open, alas, she cannot run
For the doors are not meant for her
And the misfit stands,
Watching silently as the rest leaves her.

Little Butterfly

2004-09-21T16:04:00.000+08:00

Frail little butterfly,
Wither do you go?
Your beautiful wings flutter
With the winding patterns donned
With fantasy. You fly from flower To flower
Where goes my lady,
Free and full of grace,
Abandoning all strings
Out to meet the Sun's rays?

Of the tinge of happiness you gladly left
Behind, of what shall I do with it?
It shall waste away as you pass by the window,
Never to return again.

You settled on the window sill one day,
With your partner at your side,
I baked and cooked and
You wavered not when the metal tray fell.

I watched you closely and intently.
You stood there, slowly fluttering your brilliant gifts
That fill me with such wonder
By just you.
A butterfly.