7 + 1 having dinner

you know the other day i was having
yes i agree it's just so unfortunate
oh don't worry ive seen worse than
the food here's just so oily, i'll get fat
no it's ok, everything will be fine by
why are you always so quiet this
oh well i hope you're ok

.

the Magic Squirrel

magic me away, magic squirrel
magic me away
to the place where daisies lie down
their heads softly resting

oh magic me away
to the place where you begin
where the hazelnuts fall
upon the moss lies the cool shade

magic me away, dear squirrel
magic me away
to the place where i can forget

take me away
to the place of magic

/okay nice fairy poem. byebye. just finished an english speech i hate. need to sleep. the mozzies are all trying to kill me... one tried going for my face... whoa...

recess time

Ding ding ding! goes the bell
and an influx of inmates irrigate
the thirsty chairs
craving tables
fill 'er up!

Queues and more
queues of people waiting inline
Chomp Chomp! go the tables
its purpose served
that's 60 dollars please!

bite chew swallow check
bite chew swallow
check
slurp chew bite check swallow

crush slurp burp

weaving her way waddling
side to side past Purchased
Goods and production lines
ticking tocking clocking waiting
RINNGGGG

big grin big Thank you!
please come again!

Hao!

here's one i whacked out immediately in the convo i was having with Mr. Piano:

the original ~
you see not the piercing pain that's bled
and dying wish,
upon withering weed

been playing around with little poems... arrangement and everything... i've taken to writing quickly the little inspirations for poem that have a knack for popping into my head... a small Religious Harmony notepad and pen come in really handy... and i think it helps a lot...

after some thought ~
you do not see the words that bleed
and dying wish,
upon withering weed

in the original, the first line suddenly came out of nowhere. it's actually from my Sec 2 War Sonnet, and i think its one of the few nicer parts... then i decided to see what it would be like if it actually rhymed (ohmigdness! really? wait did i speil that wrong?). royCE says his friend thinks i should have ended off my previous poem with a couplet for more impact. cool. my scribbled draft actually did end in a couplet, but it didn't sound right. but i'm just a-gonna keep the way it is :P cos i can't seem to find a way to make it feel good with a couplet... but i do have some lines i'd like to add, like "Frown professionally" and "busy with success"...

Distance

i cant stand it! josh getting too pro liao! hmpf! [pouts] i shall write a poem as well! and disregard all my homework. yesh. muahahaha. sigh.

Silence echoes her pretty song
of Car Horns and Alarm Clocks -
Orange blinking, cellphones ringing
Meet the deadlines
distanced.

Just sighing for a moment
Shielding off fingers tickling
at the back of her mind.
5am and dancing on distance
quaintly, far away.

Scribbles knock
Stopwatch whistles
phonecall email duty fringing
off on the border

a distance
a distanced.

Excuse me.

dialogue between A and B. scene takes place in a crowded train station. Both A and B are waiting for the train. A is a middle-aged man dressed in a long-sleeved white shirt and white trousers. B is a youth dressed casually in street wear. The former is standing still reading a newspaper, a briefcase at his feet. The latter is fidgeting, fiddling about with his handphone, composing an SMS.

[B knocks into A a few times while fidgeting around.]

A: Excuse me?
[B ignores him]
A: Excuse me?
[B ignores him again, focusing on the SMS he is typing. He accidentally knocks into A yet again.]
A: If you haven't noticed, this is the fourth time you have knocked into me.
B: I'm sorry, but do you have a problem with that? [continuing to sms]
A: Yes, in case you havent noticed, i do.
B: Oh, just move aside or something.
A: If you might have noticed, I refuse to budge.
B: Your problem then.
A: Excuse me, you're the one with the problem here. Knocking into me with no apparent reason Is a problem.
[B chooses to concentrate on his SMSing]
A: Excuse me, I can't believe how incongruous your behaviour is.
B: You're excused.
A: If you haven't noticed, I have decided not to talk to you.
B: Fine.
A: Excuse me. Fine.
[PA system announces 'yellow line' announcement. pause.]
A: Excuse me, if you haven't noticed, you're behind the yellow line. That is dangerous.
[B ignores him again]
A: Excuse me, I'm saying this for your own good.
B: You're not my mom.
A: [shakes head] If you haven't noticed, Youths these days -
[A's phone rings. He picks it up, starts talking. B decides to finish sending his SMS, and takes out a comic book, opening it]
A: Excuse me. And as i was saying, youths these days are just incongruous. Fiddling with their phones, [stealing a look at B] reading comic books, dressing up in bad clothing. [puts down phone]

A: Excuse me, I've been asked to do a social survey.
B: Go away. I'm reading.
A: [scribbling into a notebook] I've noticed. Tan Ah Kow. 16. reads comic books.
B: My name isn't Ah Kow. [pauses]. It's Ah Mao.
A: I've noticed. Tan Ah Mao. 16. reads comic books. rude in language and tone. [looking up] Excuse me, tell me about yourself. What do your parents work as?
B: Um. My mom's a secretary. My dad works as an engineer with the PUB.
A: I've noticed. Middle-income family. Probable residence 4-room HDB flat.
B: I think you're sick.
A: I've noticed. Healthy, virile, useful. [looks up]. Excuse me. Congratulations, you have passed with flying colours.
B: Do I get paid peanuts?
A: Excuse me. Being useful is a duty. I've noticed. Congratulations.
B: Whatever.

[train comes.]

Yay Another Poem, Finally!

The busy men and women
Stare out from behind steely frames
Hurry! They say, Hurry!
I have meetings to attend,
Appointments to uphold,
And so many, oh so many things to do!

And they glare impatiently
Hands raised over horns.
Hurry! They mutter, Hurry!
I certainly do not have all day to wait -
I have places to go; people to meet

And they sit comfortably
Ensconced in their expensive, silver cars
Dressed in polished metal and pallid grey

/oh and for the record, the previous one was done a veeery long time ago, when joel ranted to me on msn about prefects in the form of a poem. i, being annoyed, ranted back. so no worries. he still finds many ways and means to rant to me about prefects nowadays, if not more so...

In Response to Joel

do.loop ("end==stagnancy")<7{day--s};
if i++ = post;
then i++=k!ng;
end.loop


why on the
sweet earth must
people take it
out on us
prefects

sheesh. i hate
booking. but why
must i still
argue with them. convince
them to believe
things i sometimes don't
even believe

i just believe in
responsibility.i wish
everyone had tt. and even
me. but i noe tt
not everyone has
that maturity. they
just enjoy life. i would like that
too

we are not
perfect. just
hated. laughed at
and scorned
for things we
are expected
to do

i never said
we were anything
near

perfect

public announcement

yes dj u sound subdued. no more hyperness. erkg;sohje;sjgk;xkdjpogjsj'.

i hereby declare, that i,
the-pianist,
shall not be able to post poetry
as often as before.

im hardly in the poetry writing mood nowadays. prob wont turn back to it again. sadly.

Rainy Afternoon

Alone
And it is dark
The rain jumps upon the balcony
And upon the windows it goes

----------plit
----------------------plat

----------split
----------------------splat


Ah finally. a post to end the deadness of the blog. i also think its the best one i've done for some time now. lately i've been trying to force my poems out from two lines, and it didn't work out well. so i felt this one was more natural. Even though i had originally started with the first two lines, when i'm thinking of an experience and translating it into imagery, i guess it's slightly easier for me. annoyingly, i still had trouble choosing the word to describe the rain. at first it was 'splatters', then 'platters', 'clatters' and now 'jumps'. but it still doesn't sound right. anyway, i changed the template. ew >_O".

Mattress

Last night I pulled out that old mattress from
the past which my parents keep under their bed

and watched as it buttered the parquet floor with
an unearthed, rectangular piece of childhood sky.

Yellow star-shapes remained spaced out in comity,
but in between was the delicate thinness of fabric,

dusty, and dirtied with the ashen traces of scorched
years. The last time I lay on it was the last time

I was thoroughly sick; engulfed in bitter fever and
having, with some languorous tossing and turning,

caused that comfortable, fluid interstice to
evaporate, as it eventually did from my memory,

so I sometimes found myself on stubborn wood,
conscious of how the hard surface had exposed me

and left me rushing again for its simple reassurance;
and beyond that, the contentment of fairer youth.

But once again I lay on the mattress, allowing it
to reclaim and slip me into a fresh recumbence,

as both bodies briefly shed the ennui of age,
while I couldn’t help but fall firmly asleep.

Must I Put A Title?

In the words of Aunt May: "I think there's a dead blogger in all of us, Peter". And Jane Austen, in her famous classic Pride & Prejudice (also known as Angst & Alfalfa-juice), says "It is universally accepted knowledge that boys of an angsty age, regardless of fortune, would be in want of a dead blog".

All blogs lead to Stagnancy, not Rome. I figure the reason why some people's blogs are so popular is because they actually bother to update on interesting things, regularly. ANYWAY, to stop me from making this into a personal diary (i really should set up an separate ill-fated blog some time with jasper or something) I shall post an old, wise word play.

To train is to improve
To bike is two maximum
To bus is too crowded

(Woah, like, how funny can i get? I seriously cannot stand it. Can I please be funnier nowadays?)