From the Black Book: Unknown Space

It still feels good
while you are still at it,
figuring out meaning,
led on by guy instinct
on what is believed
to be clues
pointing to a new direction.

Amazing it is,
just as you reached
the stop of
such a hectic journey
filled with surprises.
We would have been ready
to experience dread of tiredness,
aches to limbs
like a thousand ants biting
on the ends of your nerves.
A body so stretched
and a mind of whirl
was replaced by
a a sense of refreshments
accompanied by crave
of the wondrous flight
in unknown space.

From the Black Book: Rest

It's a good rest.
One of those deep sleep
that brings you through
unimagined possibilities
putting you on a journey
of a roller coaster ride.
Getting so caught up
with the scenes
bombarding away
of fantasy and closeness to life.
The only realization
it's all dreams
crashes down
and strikes upon you
who finds himself
on the bed
mildly stunned
with flashes of replay
akin to that
of a hastily cut trailer
(haphazardly made senseless)
going through your head.

From the Black Book: Action

Do you recall the feeling
that leaves you longing,
for more?

The adrenaline,
your heart
pumping furiously away
leading to spurts of breathe
your lungs craves for
to sustain itself.
Tension builds,
your sense acute,
vision sharpens
and surroundings scanned
of movement and audible clue
for the most minute hint,
like a hawk or wolf
on the hunt for its prey.
Blending in with
what is around
then shaping its focus.

The onslaught of sensation
calls for a rush of blood
to the head,
tapping on the trigger
till it goes haywire.

Climax is hit
then we know a dip
to be next in the line,
conclude the end
and turning back
awaiting the cycle
to repeat itself.

From the Black Book: Talk at the Coffee Table

This night is truly heartfelt.
The pocket muse full of insights,
the mentioning of the simple stuffs
that hasn't crossed my mind before.

Laughing in amusement
and wonder how these
has never occur to me.
Joy and the constant surprises
writing can bring.

The talk at the coffee table
brings back a sense of despair
I've tried to discard.
So much like a boomerang,
you can't throw it away,
when you should drop it,
otherwise it'll always come back to you.

The topics dwindled.
Meaning or value
on the verge of disappearance.
The circle is bound
for a restart.

The countdown begins.

Note from a boy

Everyone longs to be loved sometimes
so do i.

If i was younger
then probably i'll promised to be good
for the coming year and santa.

But right here where i am now,
i have no idea what there is
for me to offer.

Not yet the plant
wilting from the dry and scorching land,
the drought or the desert sand.

Nor the nomad
in search for the next oasis
in the dunes and plains.


A little of this,
a bit of that.
Can i be pampered
for just that little more?

Need some attention
yet against shouting it out.
So i came to here,
to make my words loud.


Have some heart for me,
just a little will do.


Please?

Celestial

The sun and the moon
that hangs above my world.

Fiery and lasting
the sun ever inspires.
Passion of life, perhaps,
passion in life it means.
Looking at the sun is like
observing the symbol of life.

The moon on the other hand
is cold with a gentle glow.
Forever hiding away,
moving through cycles
with each passing day
while keeping you at bay.

While it is dark,
moon seems exceptionally bright
while the sun is constantly bright
being a source of light.
There's no way to see the moon
without the sun around
for the moon borrows light
to illuminate in the night.

When the two comes together
all will be shadows,
but in just a moment,
you'll see them parting again.

End of the Path

Tonight became the night
I felt sorry.

Feeling bad for things
and who i have become.

Maybe I started to understand,
what it means to feel.

To be human,
to delve in life.

Hit the road,
make a run.

Stop and see,
where you can be.

Follow the turn,
into the unknown plains.

Not holding back,
just reach out.

The world is at your feet,
closer than anything else.

Be courageous,
take that step out.

There is so much,
yet to be found.

One day we'll pronounce ourselves
champions of life.

That's the plan,
that's the bend.

The wheel's in my hand,
for me to steer.

The miles we've crossed,
are hard, long and wild.

Perhaps we did unjust,
but tonight we own up to all that.

For tomorrow,
we start anew.

Going ahead,
and let not the past drag you behind.

Let's go.

From the Black Book: House

The night is quiet
in my house for once.
Cold air still rushes around
bring chill to my feet.
Leaving me a feeling
of impending sickness.
Which would later be dismiss
as the child of paranoia.
Broke the silence with music
from my player.
Back to the norm
for the past week.
Where the melody around
were that of piano keys.
Black and white together
forming a tune.
Enjoy the guitars,
drum and vocals tonight.
But damn,
think i'm missing the piano already.

From the Black Book: Music

Familiar strumming from the guitar
and the vocals
coming from my speakers
sparked off a memory
of a short while ago,
where i was lying
on an operation theater
awaiting for a cut
as the cure to my pain.
It was all drowsy
with all i remember
i lost my consciousness
with the jab.
And the last i heard
was the music
before i counted to three
and feel asleep.

From the Black Book: Red

Recalling in my mind,
how it looked back then.
The buildings were all
given a new coat.
The ember light flowed down
like water from a stream,
submerging all that it its path.

The sun is hidden from my sight
behind another structure
not so far away.

Its all structures here
with some in betweens.
The buildings of mortar
stands strong against weather
but the rays of ember
still seep through them.
unlike the clouds
that are still on the stroll
across the crimson sky.

From the Black Book: Chill and Dark

The lights all went out.
All was dark.
Save for the only illumination
that was beyond the window.
It was all there,
along with the wind.
That we hear,
whistling into the hall.
It had been roaring,
through the afternoon.
With its might,
nearly threw my whole house,
into a mess.
But lucky
it was only the papers
residing on the sofa
that flew around,
across the multi-colored floor.
Strong it was,
chill to the touch.
That my skin proof,
too thin before its presence.
Any sign of heat,
from the afternoon sun,
has just been kept away,
without a trace.

From the Black Book: Unwanted, Jumbled thoughts

This is worse than
unrequited love.
You reject the one
who wants you.
Going for the one,
who you want.
But they turn out to be the one
who don't want you.
Pointing you to another direction
and walking off.
This is going so confusing,
i'll just say it over
without it complicating.

They want me,
i don't want them,
yet i can't leave them.

I want to be back home
but my home does not want me
and tells me to go back
from where i came.

It's a simple three way relationship
that calls for a tragedy.
Maybe that's why
they both start with a 't'.

If the young shouldn't play
then why should the old.
If neither should,
who should.

Maybe one thing that i would regret
is allowing times to slip by.
That until now am i really
catching back all that is lost.

Realise why i would
do much for friends.
Because i have little
and i treasure the ones i have.

Its exceptionally cold today,
not from the weather,
just because i saw for myself
how alone i am.

We are all bound
for the path
of self destruction.
Right? No? I wun know.

When you create destruction,
part of you goes with it too.
When you get hurt,
someone feels the pain too.
Its a chain reaction.
Six degrees of separation?
Let's set it off.

From the Black Book: Afraid

Flipping through my little black book, looking at entries i wrote while away from the computer and net access some time ago. Time to add them here, where they will be with our writings.
Some are dated, some ain't, but doesn't really matter, does it?

Afraid

Maybe i am afraid,
afraid of being something too big
that i'll lose myself,
the core of my existence.

Maybe i am afraid,
afraid of being the weak
and that i have to
face the strong.

Maybe i am afraid,
afraid of failing
and the pain i foresee
to be brought upon me.

Maybe i am afraid
afraid of losing myself
to something great
and parting from you.

I am. Rather afraid.

do

Sometimes,
somebody just gotta do it,
even if,
nobody wants to do it,
because
it has to be done.

Single Ticket

Taken a dislike to catching movie alone,
breaking a habit i had long ago.
Where the late sunday morning was spent
in the middle of the cinema
Grabbing my sandwich and drink,
breakfast by the screen.

Looking at motion,
and listening to sounds
across the scenes,
at near a two hour or so,
before making a stand,
head towards the exit.

There's no what come after,
things had reach a halt.
With some fragments still in your head,
making sense of the reminiscence.
End up taking to oneself,
making up a conversation,
on a two sided speech,
with a one way channel.

Wouldn't it have been nice
to have someone to talk to about,
the motion picture,
that was just screened.
Whether its good
or its just plain bad,
the likable portion
and the distasteful one.

Catching the movie alone,
makes you realize,
the experience is so small
for it only belongs to you.
It it was enjoyable,
we can look forward to the next.
And start checking
on the papers and the web.

Catching the movie alone,
is a one dimension experience,
if you were around,
could have been more interesting,
with an additional view,
comment to add
or the grasp of breath
and the chuckle of laughter
which makes the show
more alive.

Would have been better,
if i was not alone.

i want to see

How much we live is on a proportionate equation to how much we want.

It has been taken as a measurement of your achievements, signifying how worthy this life has been, directly and indirectly. I would love to stay away from the norm. Because the norm is boring and plain cliche. Most of the time, but taking practicality into consideration, there's no harm being part of that majority, that is, when it proves to be working.

When making a list of your wants, having it purely inside your head would amount to an extreme result of achieving them. Writing them down is still more concrete in my opinion.

So i took out a old list which i made last year and apparently it looks pretty good. Most of them accomplished, short of 2 which had to be dragged on due to schedule issues. And another one totally fell short of its target because of my procrastination. By at least its not that bad for a first time.

I gonna set a new list this time, looking for items to add in. Realistic, worthy, important tasks which should be done.

Meanwhile, still working on another post, one that tells a story of a weekend's happening and tracing footsteps.

That, shall be task #1 i guess.

Shut It Up

Sometimes it would
just have been better
to keep your mouth shut.

For you never know
how the world
would react to your words.

Be it for the better
or what you consider
the very worst.

Its not like they all
would take into consideration
what you really feel.

The freedom of speech
comes with a price
that leaves unseen till after.

That you would need to
accept whatever is spoken
for there are no bounds anymore.

While its good to express
but on a note
it would backfire upon you too.

Especially when the ground
you are standing upon
is no flatter than a rule.

The people spoke less
in fear of punishment
coming their way.

However the world would never go quieter.

A Month

That's how long it was,
since the last this blog spoke.

Still been writing,
keeping a habit,
more than thinking,
in my everyday.

I'll bring them in the next time,
another topic is on my mind.

The older folks had one thing
they never understood,
about the loud voices and screams
that we could enjoy sometimes.

When it comes to expressing
our enthusiasm as a supporter
or merely complying
to what should be louder.

Telling myself
not to worry,
i'm still writing,
penning down my thoughts.

If not on paper,
its on text in my head.

Whatever went into
my little black book,
will soon be all here
when i find the chance to.

Depicting the story
and scenes i saw
while away from this seat
in front of my com.

Rounds and Rounds

A minute goes past,
a revolution is made.
I observe the ticking hand
moving itself a new round.

Do all things move in rings
or cycles they call.

Like the giant spheres that circles
the great ball of flame.
Akin to dancing
around the campfire.

A choreography left down
from so long ago,
now passed on
to every corner of the globe.

The bug that circles my lamp
or any source of light.
Then i see them
falling into Icarus plight

Inbox

Browsing through my inbox
looking at messages from before,
a while back and really long ago,
Kept them to remind myself
of emotions I once felt
and never want to let go.

With erosion caused from time,
these words becomes fragments
and empty husks of history.

Going through the archives
allows me to be back to track
from knowing where I came from.

I favor writing in the night
where all around is quiet
save for clocks ticking away.

My surroundings become my sanctuary,
some ideas come to see a rest
and we have tea together.

With tea and chatter,
they hung around a little
and hurried the night away.

Once a while we go all quiet
then we know its time
to bid each other goodbye.

Its going all quiet now
and my yawning closing in,
it's time.