Wishlist

I wish I was a punching bag,
for while I could be punished.

I wish I was a lipstick,

that someone depend on, and I owned their lips.

I wish I was a candle on a date,
witnessing someone's proposal, or laugh.

I wish I was the shining sun,
could give them warm and light.

I wish I was a nostalgic paint
someone hung on the wall and praised to sleep.

I wish I was a wind,

someone felt even a thousand mile I blew.

I wish I was as sentimental as Mozart,
singing and weeping on the stage.

I wish I was a traveler,
waited by someone over the continent.

I wish I was every cause for someone's happiness,

I wish I was every reason for someone's gloryness.

I wish I was all the answers to everyone's incertitude,

I wish, I wish and I guess the list is never end.

Alone

Aloneness awaits before sleep put ourselves to the most vulnerable position, at least to the way we think, at least to our oneself. We don't have the capability to tell the lie we told almost every day, we are true, we know the truth. It is the nature of dying, temporary dying. It is a great relief as a human to have this few moments in a day, to retire from the poisonous worldly, completely true to ourselves, justifying every taken steps, every move we have made as an ending to the old barbaric chapter, before awaken to the ornamented new page, new life tomorrow.

1st January 2011

Metamorphosis

To be a nature myself, I wonder if we are truly close to it. Takes the melting ice cube in the glass of lemonade, in a moment it can dissolve almost instantly and become the perfect lemonade without leaving any trace of it previous existent. The winter ice melted away when the spring wind plays above it surface, bringing to the ideas of rebirth, renewal and regrowth. The ground that covered with ice uncovered just as perfect as the previous season, neither wrinkled by season nor scared by the rush of current that born from the ice itself. If only we could change our anger, regret and pain as fast as the nature (ice cube, winter ice), cleanse our soul perfectly, completely by the stream of consciousness, we would be the master, of all the humble nature. But we are not.

27th December 2010

Wednesday

No superior wednesday,
than any other passing days,
the sky shines with morning grace,
refracted by thousands haze,
one lands on my little chap,
on this ordinary wednesday.

Hush!

What is left to say, I have said,
the talking have come to end, lets try instead,
one way or another, this should be done,
but first, all matter must be gone.

Hush!, silent all the tunes,
bring something or let assume,
one brain is enough to close the deal,
surely home is there so real.

less talking, more working, stop reasoning, tell the truth!

Toad

As one of many devastatingly ugly animals that are a part of nature, that in being a nature itself, toad live humbly, communicate with each other or with the other natures within their territory in the wet, and quietly hiding in the humid and warmth. Their song sing in each passing rain brings warmth through the season, reminding people, devastating in nature, as a sign to at least to prepare an umbrella, to provide shelter. Yet, their beauty in ugliness leave no pity among us, the  civilised yet, no awareness to be part of dying nature.

23rd December 2010

Back

This is not a continuation of the beginning;
there is no continuity in it;
in fact there is no beginning at all.

22nd December 2010