(Written April 22, 2011)
Setting clocks in to the future.
Time distorted and shortened.
Little tricks to ensure optimal performance.
Though I try, the illusion never completes itself.
The trick inevitably fails;
My sense of reality remains unaltered.
I cannot trick myself for long.
I guess I'm just too smart.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Day 100: The Top
Claws pulling at her arms and legs.
Her movements now slow like molasses.
She climbs, sloth-like, towards the top.
Appearing, to the naked eye, lazy; uninspired.
So subtle; invisble are the claws.
So relaxed her demeanour. She makes it look like
Her lack of speed is simply lack of desire.
That if she so chose, she'd already be at the peak.
But the desire is there.
Being hampered by its enemies.
And she climbs on; smiling.
Fully aware that those claws will grow weary
Far sooner than she.
And really, she is in no hurry.
The journey is an end in itself.
For once she peaks, she knows, the only way left
Is down.
-----------------------------
AND I'M DONE!!!! WOOO!!!
Her movements now slow like molasses.
She climbs, sloth-like, towards the top.
Appearing, to the naked eye, lazy; uninspired.
So subtle; invisble are the claws.
So relaxed her demeanour. She makes it look like
Her lack of speed is simply lack of desire.
That if she so chose, she'd already be at the peak.
But the desire is there.
Being hampered by its enemies.
And she climbs on; smiling.
Fully aware that those claws will grow weary
Far sooner than she.
And really, she is in no hurry.
The journey is an end in itself.
For once she peaks, she knows, the only way left
Is down.
-----------------------------
AND I'M DONE!!!! WOOO!!!
Day 99: Like Music To My Ears
(Written April 20, 2011)
These words comfort me like a warm blanket on a cold, rainy evening.
Like a hot bath after a long run.
Like a bowl of cereal after a hard day.
These words massage my shoulders and remind me of my worth.
They soother me better than the smoothest rum
And they restore the levity of my spirit.
Needed though these words were, their value was not even recognized or conceived before receiving them.
But I thank the Creator that they were received at all,
For they healed my broken resolve.
These words comfort me like a warm blanket on a cold, rainy evening.
Like a hot bath after a long run.
Like a bowl of cereal after a hard day.
These words massage my shoulders and remind me of my worth.
They soother me better than the smoothest rum
And they restore the levity of my spirit.
Needed though these words were, their value was not even recognized or conceived before receiving them.
But I thank the Creator that they were received at all,
For they healed my broken resolve.
Day 98: Fast Forward
(Written April 19, 2011)
With blinders on, we look ahead
As if looking down the barrel of a gun,
Our tunnel vision unparalleled.
We see only the next step... 114 steps away,
And stumble on the step directly in front.
The future is so much more pleasant,
Signaling the end of this chapter,
Than the chapter itself.
With blinders on, we look ahead
As if looking down the barrel of a gun,
Our tunnel vision unparalleled.
We see only the next step... 114 steps away,
And stumble on the step directly in front.
The future is so much more pleasant,
Signaling the end of this chapter,
Than the chapter itself.
Day 97: Choose Your Own Adventure
(Written April 18, 2011)
Inspiration strikes at the oddest times.
Sparking an idea that at first seems ideal; perfect.
What kind of person are you?
Do you run with ideas or do you
Let them stew until a time you deem worth of action?
Your answer affects the outcome.
If you run, turn to page 13.
If you stew, turn to page 25.
Inspiration strikes at the oddest times.
Sparking an idea that at first seems ideal; perfect.
What kind of person are you?
Do you run with ideas or do you
Let them stew until a time you deem worth of action?
Your answer affects the outcome.
If you run, turn to page 13.
If you stew, turn to page 25.
Day 96: Practice Makes Perfect?
(Written April 17, 2011)
Going through the motions,
Awaiting the moment of enlightenment.
Eureka! Aha! It all makes sense now!
This is the moment when everything comes together.
That is the moment I await.
Progressing chromatically,
Plodding along in triads and 7ths... always in groups,
Never alone.
Waiting for the spark that compels
Daily devotion.
In the meantime, it must be forced,
For the desired ends cannot be achieved
By any other means than this.
Going through the motions,
Awaiting the moment of enlightenment.
Eureka! Aha! It all makes sense now!
This is the moment when everything comes together.
That is the moment I await.
Progressing chromatically,
Plodding along in triads and 7ths... always in groups,
Never alone.
Waiting for the spark that compels
Daily devotion.
In the meantime, it must be forced,
For the desired ends cannot be achieved
By any other means than this.
Day 95: Awkward
(Written for April 16, 2011)
Being surrounded by the foreign locals
Day-in-day-out
Inhibits the social skills of the foreign foreigner.
Thus, among her peers, she is now labelled,
"One of the 'weirdos'."
Being surrounded by the foreign locals
Day-in-day-out
Inhibits the social skills of the foreign foreigner.
Thus, among her peers, she is now labelled,
"One of the 'weirdos'."
Day 94: Bubbles!
(Written April 15, 2011)
The bubble rises into the afternoon sky.
Quite unlike the general nature of bubbles,
This one has direction. And purpose.
It shoots, rather than drifts,
And just as you think it'll pop,
It morphs.
As soon as it does, we forget:
Did it merge with another bubble? Or
Did it pop and this is some other bubble
That was floating nearby, unseen?
Or is this the same bubble, but in different form?
But our question goes unanswered,
As our attentions are all now directed towards,
"How do I get in that bubble?"
The bubble rises into the afternoon sky.
Quite unlike the general nature of bubbles,
This one has direction. And purpose.
It shoots, rather than drifts,
And just as you think it'll pop,
It morphs.
As soon as it does, we forget:
Did it merge with another bubble? Or
Did it pop and this is some other bubble
That was floating nearby, unseen?
Or is this the same bubble, but in different form?
But our question goes unanswered,
As our attentions are all now directed towards,
"How do I get in that bubble?"
Day 93: Saviour
(Written April 14, 2011)
All our children inviting.
All these children are fighting.
Oh no, I'm not approving.
Save me
From the world that's encouraging
Save them.
All our children inviting.
All these children are fighting.
Oh no, I'm not approving.
Save me
From the world that's encouraging
Save them.
Day 92: What Did I Just Sit And Listen To?
(Written April 13, 2011)
No, I don't agree
And I wasted time just listening.
I think that's stupid
And I'm stupider now.
The next time you want to talk to me,
Here's what you have to do.
Just stop. And don't.
No really, I mean it.
Just don't.
No, I don't agree
And I wasted time just listening.
I think that's stupid
And I'm stupider now.
The next time you want to talk to me,
Here's what you have to do.
Just stop. And don't.
No really, I mean it.
Just don't.
Day 91: Prodigy
(Written April 12, 2011)
Hum-hum-hum
Machinery carries on as normal.
The machinery, it is said, of the prodigy.
Out pops one - two - three .... arcade games.
The perplexed mind queires,
"With all your genius, THIS is what you choose to create?"
But the prodigy is only twelve.
What else would he create?
Hum-hum-hum
Machinery carries on as normal.
The machinery, it is said, of the prodigy.
Out pops one - two - three .... arcade games.
The perplexed mind queires,
"With all your genius, THIS is what you choose to create?"
But the prodigy is only twelve.
What else would he create?
Day 90: The 'Out' Crowd
(Written April 11, 2011)
Having removed herself from an unwelcoming situation,
She finds her absence largely unnoticed.
Given that her leaving was as a result of feeling(s) hurt,
One can imagine the compounding of said hurt.
She resolves not to leave, but simply to observe.
Give them time to notice and lament her missing (missed?) presence.
All the while, she knows the favour she seeks is unobtainable.
But still she waits.
With the fervour of one
Who wants desperately to believe
They are special;
That one of the faceless masses will join her.
She waits. And is waiting still,
Not wanting to admit to the possibility that she is indeed
NOT. SPECIAL.
Admitting to something such as this would mean
Certain death. Or, at least, sadness.
Having removed herself from an unwelcoming situation,
She finds her absence largely unnoticed.
Given that her leaving was as a result of feeling(s) hurt,
One can imagine the compounding of said hurt.
She resolves not to leave, but simply to observe.
Give them time to notice and lament her missing (missed?) presence.
All the while, she knows the favour she seeks is unobtainable.
But still she waits.
With the fervour of one
Who wants desperately to believe
They are special;
That one of the faceless masses will join her.
She waits. And is waiting still,
Not wanting to admit to the possibility that she is indeed
NOT. SPECIAL.
Admitting to something such as this would mean
Certain death. Or, at least, sadness.
Day 89: Be Well
(Written April 10, 2011)
Always do what is best for you
You don't have to like everything.
If you're lucky, you can choose to avoid whatever
You hate.
If you're not, go somewhere else;
Do something else.
But do what's best for you.
Always.
Always do what is best for you
You don't have to like everything.
If you're lucky, you can choose to avoid whatever
You hate.
If you're not, go somewhere else;
Do something else.
But do what's best for you.
Always.
Day 88: Look
(Written April 9, 2011)
Perspective really does change everything.
Making a dismal experience seem almost
Worth it.
Perspective really does change everything.
Making a dismal experience seem almost
Worth it.
Day 87: Oh, You Too?
(Written for April 8, 2011)
Truths shared are
Surprisingly similar.
I don't feel so alone now.
Truths shared are
Surprisingly similar.
I don't feel so alone now.
Day 86: Stupidhead
(Written April 7, 2011)
Ugly girl
From the mouth of a child
Must it, then, be true?
It is if that child is taught to hate and fear
Anyone looking like you.
Child you have my pity
For, though you know it not now,
Your life is so much poorer
For so many of the ideologies handed down to you.
You have my pity, but only just,
Because you hurt my feelings.
Ugly girl
From the mouth of a child
Must it, then, be true?
It is if that child is taught to hate and fear
Anyone looking like you.
Child you have my pity
For, though you know it not now,
Your life is so much poorer
For so many of the ideologies handed down to you.
You have my pity, but only just,
Because you hurt my feelings.
Day 85: We Are Not Neanderthals
(Written April 6, 2011)
Ether 9; Ether 6:
Us; them.
Where we come from;
Where they do.
I'd like to learn more. How about you?
Let's build a ladder; big and strong.
Leading us upward; away from wrong
Let's climb it steadily day-by-day
Confident we can't lose our way.
There is but only one path: up
And on that path we'll never stop.
So make your fun and scoff at will.
Our lives shall be made better still.
Ether 9; Ether 6:
Us; them.
Where we come from;
Where they do.
I'd like to learn more. How about you?
Let's build a ladder; big and strong.
Leading us upward; away from wrong
Let's climb it steadily day-by-day
Confident we can't lose our way.
There is but only one path: up
And on that path we'll never stop.
So make your fun and scoff at will.
Our lives shall be made better still.
Day 84: Does This 'One' Exist?
(Written April 5, 2011)
Since the age of 10,
Longing for, dreaming of you...
Or someone like you.
Working hard to become
The person you want.
Waiting and working.
But... decades pass
Still never having met you.
Meanwhile men around the globe
Settle for lesser women.
So... fuck it.
Since the age of 10,
Longing for, dreaming of you...
Or someone like you.
Working hard to become
The person you want.
Waiting and working.
But... decades pass
Still never having met you.
Meanwhile men around the globe
Settle for lesser women.
So... fuck it.
Day 83: My Confidence
(Written April 4, 2011)
Where did it go?
Placed here only a m oment ago
With the proudest of flourishes,
Displayed for all to see.
Now so minute as to almost be invisible.
Was it really so weak?
So easily exhausted; used up?
Is there a way to pump life back into it?
The search begins.
Where did it go?
Placed here only a m oment ago
With the proudest of flourishes,
Displayed for all to see.
Now so minute as to almost be invisible.
Was it really so weak?
So easily exhausted; used up?
Is there a way to pump life back into it?
The search begins.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Day 82: Maybe. Maybe Not
(Written April 3, 2011)
Possibility.
As powerful as it is,
It is no wonder we all seek it.
Even the smallest of these are exalted and fought for.
As long as it exists,
It weilds the greatest control.
Possibility.
As powerful as it is,
It is no wonder we all seek it.
Even the smallest of these are exalted and fought for.
As long as it exists,
It weilds the greatest control.
Day 81: Comments
(Written April 2, 2011)
Spilling out from a place unknown,
With a venom so strong it
Completely debilitates and destroys
Instantly.
What antidote exists for a thing such as this?
Spilling out from a place unknown,
With a venom so strong it
Completely debilitates and destroys
Instantly.
What antidote exists for a thing such as this?
Day 80: That's Too Bad
(Written April 1, 2011)
Beautifully, life is
Complicated. Simplicity bores me.
(Why are my poems often introspective?)
With complexity comes the ability to
Compartmentalize "how's life?"
Nothing is ever all good or all bad.
But, the bad overshadows good so easily...
안됐구나 (Andekunah)
Beautifully, life is
Complicated. Simplicity bores me.
(Why are my poems often introspective?)
With complexity comes the ability to
Compartmentalize "how's life?"
Nothing is ever all good or all bad.
But, the bad overshadows good so easily...
안됐구나 (Andekunah)
Day 79: Huh, How About That?
(Written March 31, 2011)
Having come to a startling revalation,
The question becomes:
Is it a problem?
If yes, why?
Having come to a startling revalation,
The question becomes:
Is it a problem?
If yes, why?
Day 78: Bottled Up
(Written March 30, 2011)
Try and try and try again
Never let them win.
Never let them see your tears,
Lest you let them in...
Keep your struggles to yourself;
Burden no one else.
People like you when you smile;
Never when you show and tell.
Try and try and try again
Never let them win.
Never let them see your tears,
Lest you let them in...
Keep your struggles to yourself;
Burden no one else.
People like you when you smile;
Never when you show and tell.
Day 77: Racism (Yeah, I Went There.)
(Written March 29, 2011)
Brown girl, brown girl, what do you smell?
I smell that sack of shit you're trying to sell.
Black girl, black girl what do you hear?
I'm listening to the lies you whisper in my ear.
Red girl, red girl, what do you taste?
The bitterest injustice, hunger and waste.
Yellow girl, yellow girl, what do you feel?
The weight of the long dead leading me still.
White girl, white girl, what do you see?
I see brown, black, red and yellow girls, staring at me.
*(Inspired in part by Bill Martin's "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you See?")
**(The question is: who is asking these questions?)
Brown girl, brown girl, what do you smell?
I smell that sack of shit you're trying to sell.
Black girl, black girl what do you hear?
I'm listening to the lies you whisper in my ear.
Red girl, red girl, what do you taste?
The bitterest injustice, hunger and waste.
Yellow girl, yellow girl, what do you feel?
The weight of the long dead leading me still.
White girl, white girl, what do you see?
I see brown, black, red and yellow girls, staring at me.
*(Inspired in part by Bill Martin's "Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What do you See?")
**(The question is: who is asking these questions?)
Day 76: The Experience
(Written March 28, 2011)
Oh so sweet,
The way we are to small children
And dumb animals.
How easily we miscommunicate
When one speaks but the other does not listen.
The jibber jabber of the everyday
The pitter patter of small feet on eggshells
The chitter chatter over other's heads and behind our backs.
Talking smack in unknown languages
Of the body and face.
Convincing ourselves that we act selflessly
When acting for our own convenience we
Smile and agree, then instantaneously do a 180... while mentally
We curse each other and question each other's sanity.
Can't you see?
This is veritable toxicity.
And we
Smile effortlessly
Neither of us admitting defeat.
Oh so sweet,
The way we are to small children
And dumb animals.
How easily we miscommunicate
When one speaks but the other does not listen.
The jibber jabber of the everyday
The pitter patter of small feet on eggshells
The chitter chatter over other's heads and behind our backs.
Talking smack in unknown languages
Of the body and face.
Convincing ourselves that we act selflessly
When acting for our own convenience we
Smile and agree, then instantaneously do a 180... while mentally
We curse each other and question each other's sanity.
Can't you see?
This is veritable toxicity.
And we
Smile effortlessly
Neither of us admitting defeat.
Day 75: Group "Discussion"
(Written March 27, 2011)
You may speak to your hearts' content.
You are all free to express and share
So long as I like it.... so not you.
Step back please, I don't appreciate your p.o.v.
Therefore, I refuse to hear it.
Do-sit-down-and-keep-quiet
Thanks-you're-such-a-doll.
Would anyone else like to share?
You may speak to your hearts' content.
You are all free to express and share
So long as I like it.... so not you.
Step back please, I don't appreciate your p.o.v.
Therefore, I refuse to hear it.
Do-sit-down-and-keep-quiet
Thanks-you're-such-a-doll.
Would anyone else like to share?
Day 74: You're Toxic
(Written March 26, 2011)
Your love.
So hot that every touch
Sets the hairs on my skin alight.
And I feel them singe.
But this love, so toxic; corrosivve; irresistable.
I don't even notice when my skin
Melts from my body, exposing
Tissue an dmuscle and nerve.
Now completely raw from your "love"
Every action, reaction and inaction burns.
Every breeze that blows, every breath you whisper into my ear
Sends seering pain all through me.
But I am still too enamoured to piece together the clues
And detach myself from you.
Your love.
So hot that every touch
Sets the hairs on my skin alight.
And I feel them singe.
But this love, so toxic; corrosivve; irresistable.
I don't even notice when my skin
Melts from my body, exposing
Tissue an dmuscle and nerve.
Now completely raw from your "love"
Every action, reaction and inaction burns.
Every breeze that blows, every breath you whisper into my ear
Sends seering pain all through me.
But I am still too enamoured to piece together the clues
And detach myself from you.
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