Run with me in my perpetual haste. Wander with me in my desperate search. Meander with me in my whimsical course. Slalom with me in my endless vacillation. Wade with me through my hopeless misery. Sink with me to my senseless abysses. Spin with me in my eddying emotion. Cruise with me through my youthful fantasy. Flow with me in my surging spontaneity. Swim with me in my verbal euphony. Float with me in my phantasmal heaven. Whirl with me in my fragile bubble. Fly with me as I escape reality.

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

Insomnia

Midnight glory,
Fold around me
your celestial quilt.
Tell me a tale.

Raven Beauty,
Breathe into me
the mysterious dusk.
Sing me to sleep.

Sunday, January 21, 2007

His and Hers

An anger gushing with virulence, an anger so physical, it leaps out and grips you as tightly as his clenched fist, a temper so hot, you will wince if you touch that green vein pulsating against the stretched skin of his neck, an anger that hurls every object in sight, an anger caught, mangled and minced between two unsmiling rows of pearly teeth that seem incapable of such wrath, an anger that brings forth a cascade of unimaginable abuse, an anger swelling with spontaneous curses and threats rarely meant, an anger that sparks, blazes and reduces to cold ash- all within a quick throbbing moment, an anger that hurriedly slips through your fingers, an anger that leaves as remnants only repentance, profuse apology and not a trace of malice. Such is his anger- red to behold, searing to touch, loud to hear, fleeting in time, harmless while it is there, guileless once it is gone...

Silent anger that resides in her sharp glare, in her slow forceful walk, in her firmly set jaw, in the thin line of her mouth, a practised anger, its perfection visible in the controlled pace of her movements free of urgency, movements carefully designed to conceal her emotion, an anger that had no ears for pleas or reason, an anger chilled till you shiver in its iciness, an anger that simmers silently long after you think it has passed, an anger that strikes back with hurtful words when you least expect them, an anger that stores every moment away, committing them to memory to serve as fuel for some future wrath, an anger that never forgets, an anger that stays on for you to touch, remember and fear forever, an anger that leaves behind charred bitterness and a promise of return. Such is her anger- eternal embers that glow unnoticed, biding time as it awaits the wind of revenge, a spiteful fire that only her will can quell...

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Caught Unawares

Is that all there is to a dream-come-true?

Life spiralled down into normalcy,
As I continue to wait for indulgent mirth.
The glorious moment slunk away silently,
leaving me no chance for leisurely reminiscence.

Is that all there is to a dream-come-true?

We still exchange the same pleasantries-
About the weather, the traffic, the bitter coffee.
Can't you see the bounce in my gait,
the glow on my face?

Is that all there is to a dream-come-true?

A thrill that raced past,
A smattering of disbelief, tears and prayer,
A faint recollection of sweet success,
rapidly replaced by dreams anew?

 
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