November Rain

(This one's inspired by Guns N Roses' 'November Rain' music video. Think it's a little more of lyrics than poem. Enjoy.)


November Rain

Oh don’t they know
How it rained the whole of November
Every single day

It rained
On the day two lonely hearts collide
Away from the shield of their umbrellas
They embraced the cold shower
Hand in hand
They danced away the cruel weather
Huddled together for warmth
Before he lit the flame
And slipped his gift
Into her dainty hands

It rained
When lovers’ final pledge was made
They bind their hearts while
Joyous tears streak her angelic face
Their lives finally intertwined
They swore their lives to each other
And let the rain be their witness
For it shall only be quenched
On the day their hearts no longer beat
For the other


It rained
Like it never did before
The moment he kissed her frozen lips
And caressed her lifeless face
Tears mired with pain
The rain refused to subside
Only to taunt him and remind him
That they both lost
The final goodbye
Left him cold & withered

It rained
Because he saw her face
Again, one too many times
The sheets overwhelm him with her scent
There’s no escape
From the memories and the bitterness
He vexed himself over this:
There’s no denying
She was taken on the last day
In cold November rain

Oh don’t they know
How it rained the whole of November
Every single day

Silent Tragedy

I say:

A glimmer of you
Peeks through the glorified dust
Your soul,
From the forced slit your lips carries
I weep for such obsession
You refuse to find your way out
Of all the insanity
And you pray not
Not till everyone's pleased

You say:

No
It is not a choice of mine
I must carry on with the masquerade
To twirl amongst the powerful
Breed hatred in women's hearts
Have adoring eyes perched upon me
Comparisons will be quelled
Soon, she will be forgotten
And I will become her

I say:

Love you, they may
But when the jewel has lost its shine
It will be left to the dirt
Just as when the time is up
Their applause will fade
And you, banished to a distant memory
Your crown will be stolen
By yet, another you
What then?

You say:

I find it hard
To believe words that escape from malicious lips
And borne out of a spiteful heart
Words are cheap
Coming from someone who's not yet enjoyed
A single ounce of my glory
The crown is but a thing
Matters not if it's stolen
For I am the crown

I say:

A slave cannot ignore his chains
Neither can he rejoice in it
You, however, celebrate your slavery
With pretty tresses and smiles
Oblivious to bondage
Perfection
You constantly crave for it
The mask you're crucified to
Snuffs out your being

You say:

My "mask", if you insist, is my being
With my being lies my soul
And my soul finds it's worth
In knowing that men yearn for a touch of my skin
And women, eager to protect their men
The mask that you perceive and I are one
None can find existence without the other
Neither can be satisfied
Till it has conquered every heart

letter from the phantom

dear sir
i've got no motive for writing
or a good reason to cry
but you need to understand
why i really need to die
today the ladies turned to stare
and i never did look up
guess, sir, that when i did
what really broke my heart!
to each and every lady
i returned a courteous smile
but upon my gaze they hastily dropped
theirs to the ground
i know the reason why they turn
it's a state of mind called fear
i never meant to hurt them sir
i take the unlit route by the river!
the shadows obscure my untelling face
but near to me their lights aflame
and oh, sir, how fervently i pray
that their eyes never search, and never lay
upon my skin! oh, sir, what a sight
this is a face not meant in the light!
the beautiful believe there is a God
alas, by a sage too, i've been taught
that no ugliness resides on that side
and faces pearly have no reason to hide
now hear me sir, and hear me well
for twenty years in shadows i dwell
for fear of taunt and reluctance to scare
lest the repulsion causes distance
oh that i can never bear!
so my good sir, in light of this
tell me true just as i cease
that in death i can walk the water
i can bury my face in the robes of the father
that he will receive me and not repel
to see such a face that belongs in hell
oh tell me that he will not reject
thinking that it could not have been
a true work of his hand!

Rain

My first try at real Japanese haiku:

雨

降りしきる

彼我まだ立てる

居もしない

雨だれも

彼我を焦がれる

彼はどう？

XXX
Rain

A downpoar
She still stands
Invisible

The raindrops, too
Yearns for her
What about him?

mutual respect

some days
i don't want to read your mind
or guess what you never say
laugh goodbye over the static line
and some days
we'll believe we're better this way

leap of faith

when you are walking a step too fast
sole out first to seek the dust
the day comes quicker
than your prayer
is it not time
to trust?

blank canvas II

... or this.

blank canvas

as said, this is our first image!



please fill it with your words. :)

umbrella city

eighteen hours of rain; did you see it?
we dont belong in an umbrella city
it's hard to make sense of fidelity
where monks talk business on the streets

cos i dont want to have to fight this
maybe we could throw it over the flame
the fire burns everything

eighteen hours of pain; did you feel it?
we dont belong in a wombed society
it's hard to say who will win the game
where women are doing the chasing

cos i dont want to have to fight this
maybe we could throw it over the flame
the fire burns everything

eighteen months of amnesia; you didn't know it
we dont belong in an elephant factory
it's hard to remember who drowned me
where most of the time i'm doing the killing

cos i dont want to have to fight this
maybe we could throw it over the flame
the fire burns everything

but it doesn't put out the rain

For women

Women

Their bodies ravaged
Trodden on like wildflowers
Destitute of love

Women

To be mere puppets
To dance, pose, in every way
Tears go unnoticed

Women

Mocked, taunted, and made
Smaller than anything else
What could be far worse?

Women

Believe we can change
That we are not destined to
Be men's fancy toys

Women

Try to understand
Respect will not be given
Until it is claimed

- Retrodictive -

old prose

hello, this is the prose that retrodictive's poem reminded me of, written in the angsty/emo days of 2004 (july 21st). is prose allowed? haha.


i wonder how many sighs & intimacies you shared with the cigarette when you locked lips with it.

i wonder how much loneliness (if it can be measured) & how much sadness (if it can be articulated) curled & dissipitated with the last ashes of the cigarette.

i wonder what could be so important to you that you're willing to give away that stick's worth of your clock's ticks.

and i wonder what's taking you so long to realise there's someone who's willing to be your cigarette.

to touch your lips gently.

to take with her the secrets within.

and make sure the secrets vanish,

the way the cigarettes took your worries to their death.

watch the way your burdens curl into wisps of smoke & float above,

i can be more.

Warning to girls

Wenhui~ I'm inspired by you. Mine is more of a stern warning. (I'm obsessed with warning people. Haha.)

He may seem right now
But dear little girl
Pray that when passion's granted and done with
No cigarette is lit
And no ashes will burn your heart

- Retrodictive -

the day after

the renga is outta my league man. here's something simple and mundane, every girl the same.

I.

wake up in the night
the hand on your waist
he is asleep
gently

II.

turn but not too loud
you are one door away
to breaking tears
on the street

III.

because women, like you
give perfumes names
but to men
every lure is the same

IV.

and in the morning
all it means to him
is overnight fragrance with which
the pillows are stained

V.

for him
it means another trip
just before noon
to the dry-cleaning lady

renga

midnight odyssey
raindrops blend with butterflies
trapped in destiny

dawn pierces the silent spell
lonely sonata ensues

before departure
leave infinite at the door
time tells no more lies

hark; the broken-hearted's cry
heralds Fancy's requiem

pariah's blind thrill
on parched lips, a trace it stains
scattered bliss (is there?)

ghostly touch thy gibbet's kiss
madness, alibi unfound

tattooed on canvas
willful Cupid made his stain
culprit or a saint?

blazed in treason, i forbid
clasped in deepest seas, burning

- Retrodictive -

Renga

midnight odyssey
raindrops blend with butterflies
trapped in destiny

dawn pierces the silent spell
lonely sonata ensues

before departure
leave infinite at the door
time tells no more lies

hark; the broken-hearted's cry
heralds Fancy's requiem

pariah's blind thrill
on parched lips, a trace it stains
scattered bliss (is there?)

- Retrodictive -

renga

my little share, humbly.

Midnight odyssey
Raindrops blend with butterflies
Trapped in destiny

Dawn pierces the silent spell
Lonely sonata ensues

Before departure
Leave infinite at the door
Time tells no more lies

Renga

Here goes my little share, hope it does justice:

Midnight odyssey
Raindrops blend with butterflies
Trapped in destiny

Dawn pierces the silent spell
Lonely sonata ensues

- Retrodictive -

behind the words

behind every poem lies an image, a scene, or a picture.
here's the image that gave birth to the first and second invisible gates.


artwork by jimmy liao.

the invisible gate

I.
how he died in glory
(some say a written story)
the son of God
unknowingly
blood-paved the worded journey

II.
and upon this blood
the filial son
bled a red gate of mercy
and cried to us 'here is the way, but
come only if you wont hurt me'

III.
now here lies a wounded God
prisoned, for us to peer
but oh, not too near
stained as we are
by humane sins of folly.

to quote from jimmy liao

who else but poets
can dive nosedeep
in a waterless pool?