Monday, May 14, 2012

Voices


This will not be inspiring or witty,
Nor will it provide any sense of pity.
Instead, what you’ll find is pain,
Somewhere border lining insane.

My parents are disappointed in me,
And my friends loathe, despise me.
Perfect to all; I’ll never be,
I….I….just want to be free.

Nothing stands to reason anymore,
How deep down can you fall?
In life you truly gave your all,
It is futile, so what the hell for?

I can hear voices in my head,
Acknowledged, decided my fate.
Rest your forehead and do not miss.
Its pitch black; I am finally at peace.

-DNPY-
1709, 14/5/2012
Note: This not an autobiography or biography. Please do not be encouraged by this. TQ

Sunday, May 13, 2012

My Generation



First, here comes an introduction,
About me….how I function.
People say and people talk,
Blur them out…I don’t give a fuck!

I am a rebel since birth,
Parents say our music is filth.
Kids these days have Justin bieber,
Hello, say Hi to my middle finger!

Metal, punk and rock.
Metallica, Limp Bizkit, Nirvana,
Nowadays autotune makes music out of a sock,
Key dollar sign hah, lady ga-ga-ga.

Hey, maybe I am getting kinda old,
New stuff is good right? - I’m still not sold.
Something is terribly wrong with our world today,
When a song is written about what comes after Thursday.

Some might share my ideas and some rage,
Some might say I live buried in a cage,
But you should get it checked-your musical taste,
Look into the mirror, how can you stand your own face?

Take this classical scenario in a club.
A dude having a mouse in his butt.
You must be thinking what has he been smoking?
Twenty twelve says; “Everyday I’m shuffling!”

Maybe just maybe, I should go hundred five point seven.
They have what I enjoy when I was eleven.
This is me, my sad sad plight,
Titanic is a love story, not fucking Twilight!

The Mayans say we are at the end.
And soon there will be no more man.
The date marks December 21st,
How could our lives possibly get any worse?


-DNPY-
0243, 14/5/2012
Note: This is written entirely for fun and I’m so damn rusty!



Woman in White


 
It’s a Friday night- pitch dark,
and I make my way to the park.
It’s windy, breezy, uninvitingly harsh,
and at times like this, I don’t expect much.

Walking slowly, clad in a trench,
X marks the spot- the usual bench.
It stood the same till today,
I sat, took a breather and lay.

The stars shine and sparkled,
they tease, laugh and twinkled.
Even the moon knows my tale,
she shed tears, dense, cold like hail.

I am partially the man I once was,
a big part of me forever lost.
Life has long abandoned me,
left me drowning alone in the sea.

I’ve first met her here,
20 years back, but still clear.
She wore white, a white dress,
sitting alone, crying and in distress.

I was young, in my teens,
full of energy, boastful and mean.
But the man in me hid at her sight,
I needed to approach and hear her plight.

She was shy, frightened, afraid,
looking at me, she said,
Please sir, please go away,
take all you wish, I know I can pay.

Ignoring them words, I looked at her,
by golly, she’s no ordinary girl.
Her hair soft like satin,
how soft? I can only imagine.
Her eyes were like pearls in the night,
brown, shady, yet so bright.
Her skin, delicate and smooth,
even that is understatement from truth.
And her smile, inviting and sweet,
blown me off my feet and planted a seed.

The seed is no more,
for there lies a tree, steady and tall.
The seed of extraction proved its worth,
becoming the righteous pillar of love.

Things changed since that eventful day,
to an extent, it made me say.
I love you chere, I always do,
and will you marry me, this hopeful fool?

The rest they say is history,
pure and true, no mystery.
My purpose of life has been found,
together, we had it all, we settled down.

Things were good, real good,
better then it ever could.
At night, in covers with my lover,
she whispered that she had another.

My life changed forever,
caught me in surprise, like a fever.
Never would I expected- never!
that one day I’ll be a father.

She’s in pain, in labour,
I pray, asking for his favour.
The doc came out holding my daughter,
saying; “sorry, we’ve lost her mother.”

My world fell to pieces,
everything I’ve built on, in titters.
A part of me lies broken,
taken from me, stolen.

I never overcame my guilt,
and for years, I’ve feuded.
Whether to end it or suffer,
but she’s still here- in my daughter.

On that grounds, I’ve lived on,
soulless with no shoulder to cry on.
The bench holds many fond memories,
and for 20 years, it listened to my stories.

A broken branch startled me,
so familiar, how could it be?
“Hello daddy”, she said,
“lets go home, its late”.

Taking her hand, I followed,
a mirror image unfolded.
She is so alike her mother,
and I still love her.

It was like once it was before,
a man and a woman, an encore.
And up above beyond the clouds,
a woman in white smiles proud.

:::The end:::

-DNPY-
(10/8/2006)

*notes: Chere= Dear (French)

Matchstick and a gas lighter



A slender body, a slim figure,
big headed, rash, and burning cinder.

Time zips past with plastic and vapor,
replacing traditions, norms and amber.

Traditionalists hold true to their wind,
through wars, through thick and thin.

When choosing your namesake flame,
it takes two to flick the flint.

Others observe that the end result is the same,
but you know the journey decides the game.

Soothing and warm without much doubt,
realizing something you can’t live without.

From the resulting gas and wood,
a spark appears and magic follows suit.

Graduating into a small fire,
rapidly expanding wider and higher.

Burning through the night,
visibly noticeable from far sight.

Wind and breezes can be swat around,
but what to do when it hits the ground?

Before you burn your fingers,
best let go than let linger,

Despite how much we loved the heat,
We have run out of fuel to feed.

= DNPY =
7.30 p.m.
7/12/2009

Love and War



Some people hate- with knives,
Some people paid- with lives,
What’s up with this?
Why not settle with a kiss?

Because people, they just don’t understand,
The ideology of human nature, a friend.

To love and to care,
To give and to share,
Through pain and sorrow,
Through shame and quarrels.

Embracing love, a war never starts,
And compassion shall write their hearts.

DNPY
12.15 a.m.
7/11/2003