Property of Earth

the underside of Paradise

2012-01-29T12:19:00.001+08:00

some days, even flying dragons can't cheer you up

I've been staring at this screen for the past 5 minutes, with no motivation to write, and nothing inspirational to say. (So don't speak" sings the chorus- was it or was it not all in my head?)

"We must leave this terrifying place tomorrow and go searching for sunshine"

(from 'This Side of Paradise' by F. Scott Fitzgerald)

(...Well this side of Paradise!... There's little comfort in the wise. -Rupert Brooke-)

and this side of Paradise,

the winds must still be obeyed.

This side of Paradise

apples must fall and lakes must rise

This side of Paradise

deer runs shot and pollen settles

This side of Paradise

the birds are silent

and colour only comes in seven

This side of Paradise

God grins toothless and we lay

sleepless

the clock sings its seconds

Sleeping Beauty on Five-four Street

2012-01-09T09:56:00.001+08:00

the nameless wretch,
twine for hair
-rusted strands a thousand spindles
and blue-black lips
(still unkissed)

the patch-skinned mongrel
(prince charming)
his phallic tongue
bestows her pleasure
(but stole her bread)

gun-holes, bloodhounds,
brothels and pimp-sheds
haphazardly lined on five-four street.
Wretch- she is content
to hear, see or
speak, not a word (nor pretend)

Mouth, limbs and broken-down posts
rumble nightly in hoarse owl-hoots;
(sleeping beauty still asleep)

2011-12-26T14:59:00.001+08:00

saw this pic on tumblr

Maybe the things I do aren't always pretty

Maybe the screen I hide behind is another story

Maybe beneath the 300 layers of clothing

We are still as naked as a peeled onion

Maybe I should stop buying pain for pleasure

2011-11-30T08:49:00.001+08:00

paranoid and insecure

21 years and still pathetic

2011-10-19T10:23:00.001+08:00

we're all lonely for something we don't know we're lonely for.
How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never even met?

-David Foster Wallace-

the beginning of the undone man

2011-10-12T07:27:00.002+08:00

he stands just six feet short, not quite so straight; yes, wobbling- that's the word- wobbling on his 2 brown leather soles, on top of which 3 pairs of ivory stilts try to support the massive bulk that is his overhanging gut. Too much beer, for sure; oh yes and too much cake, caffeine, chocolate, cookie and what not- not a nice combination. His femurs are strong, but not quite so strong. And what's more, even with the combined effort of both his fibula and tibia, you can still hear the beginnings of a crack. There it goes again, clink clink, like a wind chime on a breezy summer day- how refreshing.
The bones decide it is time to lay down and take a break. After all, it has been more than 35 years.

leaving the nightlight on

2011-10-09T16:18:00.000+08:00

One day my insecurities are going to be the death of me
feeling rather excessive at the moment
and hand creams and macarons still aren't remedies

how the one make music without a muse?

my posts are too short,

my thoughts are too big;

my days are too long,

but my nights are too small.

:)

2011-09-29T19:25:00.002+08:00

hello Hun Yen....

2011-09-28T17:55:00.001+08:00

almost...

I'm a Fool

2011-09-18T21:14:00.002+08:00

when we are born we cry that we are come.. to this great stage of fools

William Shakespeare

2011-09-18T18:47:00.002+08:00

Each moment is a place you've never been."

quote by Mark Strand

(someone help me find his book in Australia... I hate how American poets are so hard to find here...)

am I living

or am I surviving?

I feel drained

both words and strength

white absence

2011-09-13T21:20:00.002+08:00

today I was writing up some random stuff in bed when I thought of my teddy bear (more yellow than white now after spending 20 years with me). I turned my head in search of his lovely presence among my blanket and pillows, had a panic attack when I couldn't find him, only to remember that I am in a rented room 4783km away from home (have been for most of the past 4 years) while he is probably gathering dust on my bed back home.

Then, the loneliness drops in

I've not been right lately- my mind forgets things, I can't seem to tune in, and my heart just isn't into living... it's weird, and I feel like I'm living in a world of make-believe, inside my head which is quite desolate.

I will survive

maybe I need more sleep

sometimes

2011-09-10T15:09:00.000+08:00

sometimes I like to pretend that I am actually beautiful

a grand day

2011-09-09T08:26:00.000+08:00

pelting rain
double espresso
lecture notes
coloured pens
growling tummy

things that are happening in my life right now
it really ought to be a grand day
but circumstances dictate otherwise

on credit

2011-09-05T18:09:00.000+08:00

Let me use up all my future sadness
teach me to find my portable muse
throw me a blanket of moss or earth
show me to fly with wings made of hands

because my leg hurts almost as much as my days right now, and I'm barely able to cry
if only the world could be folded up and kept in my pocket until I'm ready for it

i

2011-08-31T20:06:00.002+08:00

I am the world

an extension

of the soil beneath

and breath above

within

infinity

I am

as much you

the leaves are

streams are

nests are

trees are

ink on paper

the sun above

i am The World

Aftertaste

2011-08-21T16:10:00.002+08:00

and then, there's the limbo

here, there, where?

how do you get back the someone that you were?

(so tell me, when and where did I lose her?)

cries, smiles,

and worry lines

one day, two,

and a hundred more

all shall pass as silent

as the dumb incontinent

insomniac

lying on your bed

wetting your sheets

the morning after.

but the smell lingers

Autumn Dirge

2011-03-07T07:04:00.002+08:00

Sipping autumn
like the leaves will never fall
the days will never snore
A cry
against summer and seasons
and too many years still changing
clanging
rumbling engine
from sword fights to book ends
baby dolls to eyeliners
from the soiled puppy wrestling
rubber soles
past
out the window along the tracks
seasons and sun and time setting

Carnival

2011-02-02T11:04:00.002+08:00

So why don't you

freeze summer and sell it

a penny apiece

on Popsicle sticks

Why don't you

can wind

bottle trees

stopper waves

Why don't you

reap them like wheat

why don't you

Why don't you

wordless

2011-01-06T17:16:00.003+08:00

Bring in the bold

and all lighted lanterns;

Stallions in gold

Fill up the urns

champagne of plenty

unfade the curtains

Sing away the jaded stranger

tongueless traveler

the stone-blind gentry

fly away the straws and doors unhinged

the poem can not be finished

A Little Time of my Own

2010-11-25T11:22:00.003+08:00

The silent second
my invisible moment

Hidden
in my faded corner
chocolate volumes
bitter coffee

discourse with

2010-08-21T17:23:00.002+08:00

Not enough words, too little smiles
I care not (or at least I would close my eyes and
try those words)
I need to make you
go away-
where to you say? (you
I haven't seen- not even
in my dreams

but every ponder and every twitch
every tear fearfully ditched
wake me hungry, left me cold
unstitched feathers a mess untold

musings for my muse

2010-08-16T11:48:00.002+08:00

Make me a moment
of down and feathers-
away from saltwater days

unbeached winters

Drunk on Caffeine

2010-06-29T20:51:00.002+08:00

Let this be a lesson to everyone not to overdose on coffee

effing jittery and dazy at work, and basically seeing everything through a thin film of haze between my eyes and my mind. The customers must freaking hate me
couldn't fall asleep till after 1am
woke up at around 3.30am
made breakfast at 4am
walked to the beach at 7am (3hour walk)
froze over under the winter drizzle and sea wind
walked back home (another 3hour walk)
off to work again

perfect

an awkward shade of blue

2010-06-26T15:55:00.004+08:00

Just as if it did not know what colour it wishes to be.
Or maybe it shouldn't matter.

of drizzlebee and wanderlust

2010-06-20T19:51:00.002+08:00

indulge in rain without an umbrella
forget the winter and that numbing paraphrenia
half-lost among half-streets and wrong turns
bringing happiness back in slices of anonymities

(I think I walked at least 10km today- lets hope the rain does not give me a cold tomorrow)

not doing anything about it

2010-06-17T12:53:00.003+08:00

uncertain days
unwritten ways
unscripted plays

i like how that feels
and i like how you think

Kissing the Green Man

2010-06-07T20:28:00.004+08:00

I held his gaze
a moment and forever
vines untwisted greens unpainted
leaves without flower

forgotten his name
each step and another
through his leaves my veins
between thorn and heather

up my wall fast broke my sleep
carved root moss-peeled swallowed deep
(was it me or unconsciously him
unphantomably married in deathless dream?)
stone face wood face immortal face
lifeless lipless un-coldless waste

http://www.indigogroup.co.uk/edge/greenmen.htm

Crawling Eyelashes

2010-01-03T08:41:00.002+08:00

So lets say there's this girl. Her eyelashes crawl- yeah, literally. They're alive and actually move round and round her eyes. It's dead uncomfortable of course, like ants walking all over your skin. So of course she daren't cry- she wouldn't want to flood her eyelashes away because somehow, she has grown attached to it. Plus, she would look ugly without eyelashes.

I don't know why it's always a girl, never a guy.

And no, it ain't got anything to do with me, my eyelashes are dead. It was a nightmare I had.

An Inch of Sky

2010-01-02T13:18:00.002+08:00

If I lie on my back with my head 5cm from the wall, I see an inch of sky and 5 inches of roof.
If I stop crying and sit up, I'll probably see more than 20 inches of sky.

It's not like I don't know this, so what's the problem?

Crawling eyelashes are scary.

2009-12-22T21:36:00.000+08:00

If only I was worth my while

Overdued Frenzy

2009-12-14T13:47:00.002+08:00

I'm feeling extremely UNliterary right now, so I ought to leave this blank.

Amusing incident.
Dad was criticizing someone a few days ago-
Dad : ...(bla bla bla).. that fucke-
Mom : WHEY!!
Dad : Sorry, sorry. That idiot-
Mom : THAT'S THE SAME!
Dad : Ah, ya... that idiot...(bla bla bla)...

I think I'm more troubled that people look at swear words so negatively. Where else can you find words strong enough to capture your anger?

Anyhow, I'm stuck in the house now feeling trapped.
It's a sunny day. Days like these are not meant to be spent at home staring at the computer screen. Days like these ought to be spent at the beach- with minimal clothing and maximal pleasure.

totally digging the new hole

2009-11-29T12:53:00.003+08:00

Unearthed flesh

a tunnel of blacks

Do You Want to Close Your Eyes

2009-11-23T19:37:00.005+08:00

Like lovers on the open shore- What's the matter?
When you're sitting there with so much more- What's the matter?
While you're wondering what the hell to be
Are you wishing you were ugly like me?

Blame It On The Girls- MIKA

There's plastic surgery, but I'd rather be made of tin, wood, or even paper as opposed to plastic.

I've never wanted a dragon as much as I do now, but dreams are called dreams because you are meant to wake up.

We wake up one morning
to the rustling of wings
the alarm clock missing.

Torn sails of blue-brown dreams
unfurled then wretched
in the morning sea-sick sun.

What boat caught fire
between dragon-doze
and morning glaze.

The salt-drawn air
dropped under blankets

we edge towards the breakfast table.

The Melancholic Salesman

2009-11-16T15:02:00.002+08:00

Selling sadness
through the cracked glass of
blue-brown SUV.
The stocks stack ready twenty thousand shapes.

The ladies want them
packed in false frills
and fake tans,
confused for heady summer romances.

The boys bought more,
freeze-dried
in sealed plastic,
Hope billed between beer-pot nights.

The long queue
changes, coin cashes.
Twenty-four hours daily
more sold each day but never enough.

It's a weird world... it's an ironic world.
I would have laughed if I wasn't living on Earth.

Today's a pretty rainy day, and I'm wishing it is a rainy, pretty day.
I think someone stole the rainbow, so now I can't go out and collect treasures.

3 Signs for 1...

2009-11-14T12:55:00.003+08:00

You know I'm not a chocolate when...
1. I don't melt in the sun
2. I'm not as sweet as you think
3. My tears are transparent

I think I'm beginning to like this...

Teenage dreams in a teenage circus
Running around like a clown on purpose
Who gives a damn about the family you come from?
No givin' up when you’re young and you want some
MIKA- We Are Golden

3 signs for 1...

2009-11-11T20:00:00.000+08:00

You know I'm stressed out when...
1. My BMI hits an all-time low
2. My forehead has pimples
3. Jason Mraz's voice becomes compulsory lullaby

Substitute the green words... play around

My Choice of the World

2009-11-08T08:56:00.002+08:00

(assuming I even have a choice in the first place)

1. Rain comes with a warning 1/2 hour before.
2. Laughs are activated by the soul, not facial muscles.
3. There's always a 2nd chance.
4. Books are for pleasure, not indoctrination.
5. People only shout when they are dancing.
6. Everyone has an animal friend.
7. Loneliness is quieter than silence.
8. Trashing the world is akin to murder.
9. Pages never turn yellow.
10. Trees are for climbing.

I could go on till 99 but I would run out of dreaming space.

The Undefined Age Between Daydreams and Nightmares

2009-11-08T08:37:00.002+08:00

Suddenly, I'm far too old to hide between the pages of Calvin and Hobbes.

I ought to have a coming-of-age ritual (a test to prove my adulthood like those in aboriginal tribes). Then at least I'll be able to measure my worth. Either that, or I fail and get discarded along the edges of society's forgotten cracks.

Maybe if I had a loud enough bell that will ring when danger is approaching and allow me to hide before the storm

Maybe if I was in 2-D instead of 3-D

Maybe if the world never ages

Happy Birthday to me.

Halloween me up

2009-10-31T13:48:00.002+08:00

So you'll build me a haunted house
and store me in a box.

If you're not paranoid enough, don't eat the red apples- somewhere out there appleseeds from snow white's curse have bred a poison orchard.
I've just found out how sweet green apples can taste (ate four in two days) would you want to believe that it is not merely a coincidence the apples are the same colour as the veins seen through our skin?

The Fall of Aphrodite Street (by Les Murray, 1990)
So it’s back to window shopping
on Aphrodite Street
for the apples are stacked and juicy
but some are death to eat.

For just one generation
the plateglass turned to air—
when you look for that generation
half of it isn’t there.

An ugliness of spirit
leered like a hunting dog
over the world. Now it snarls and whines
at its fleshy analogue.

What pleased it made it angry:
scholars Score and Flaunt and Scene
taught that everything outstanding
was knobs on a skin machine.

Purer grades of this metaphysic
were sold out of parked cars
down alleys where people paired or reeled
like desperate swastikas.

Age, spirit, kindness, all were taunts;
grace was enslaved to meat.
You never were mugged till you were mugged
on Aphrodite Street.

God help the millions that street killed
and those it sickened too,
when it was built past every house
and often bulldozed through.

Apples still swell, but more and more
are literal death to eat
and it’s back to window shopping
on Aphrodite Street.

(no, it's got no connection with apples nor fairytale- it's a poem about AIDS. But still...)

I think I'll be grateful for an eternal sleep, really.

What Happens When..

2009-10-08T20:49:00.002+08:00

What happens when
you've forgotten how to smile?
What happens when
the dread starts to pile?
What happens when
the tears you've shed
just aren't worth
the future you'll get?

What happens when
sadness rhymes
like melodramatic times.

Sweet Wrappers for Paper Cranes

2009-09-17T14:26:00.001+08:00

Folding sweet
luck- if only
Wishes do come true

Between Humanity and Insanity

2009-09-10T22:27:00.002+08:00

How much does it take for an understanding to be reached?

grasping for the details between the void

one freaking voice- Save the world
Sane (the world)

The monsters shall always find it warmer under the bed

the present moment

2009-08-31T20:34:00.008+08:00

Home again.

Not home in any sense of the word, but nevertheless- home enough. Do you call it that? Being home with sadness?

My make-up is such that I am incapable ofthe present. I'm just trying to define myself, that's all... But why is it that I just don't take shape? It sucks, more than anything- it hurts.
And just how hard is it to make someone understand the extent of my failure?

Mum said if I'm not afraid of giant animals, insects, or any such things, I shouldn't be afraid of humans. Please don't try to psyche me up cause i know that humans are infinitely more scary then any other living creature.

This wierd 'support group' is still sending me regular e-mails on depression. How they found me or even knew my name is still a mystery.

i wish we could care more for other creatures- we seem to be the only one capable of driving another species into extinction.
Please don't drive me into a corner-

Home
breaths ground of sand-
vapours that choked.
Gone was the spring, what
now only breeds
one lone grey toad.

Lies
reflected in mirrors
beneath ghost hands.
Here might be the promise
that we all pretended
weren't just strands.

Me
still not in the picture,
or any such frames.
When you've got no border,
What exactly are you
but space

Gluttony for Gluttony's Sake

2009-07-16T16:27:00.002+08:00

Reading Davcid Foster Wallace's "The Broom of the System", and I've just got to the part where the guy ordered 9 steaks, that's NINE ( "served with your choice of potato and vegetable and richly delicious dessert")

""Didn't I say look at me? Can't you tell what I am? Listen to me very carefully. I am an obese, grotesque, prodigal, greedy, gourmandizing, gluttonous pig. Is this not clear? I am more hog than human. There is room, physical room, for you in my stomach. Do you hear? You see before you a swine. An eating fiend of unlimited capacity. Bring me meat.""

ps: He died (David Foster Wallace)- killed himself

Pleasurable Idleness

2009-07-10T19:02:00.003+08:00

Detox session is over.
I've finally got all exams out of my system.
Now time to ingest some quality crap.

Earthbound Blues

2009-07-05T20:40:00.002+08:00

I take my steps
Down hissing pavements
Woken by the sun

Grass grow
Dust rise
A motor car just passed my way

I shut my eyes
And dream of birds
As the town closes in on me.

that place

2009-02-14T18:25:00.003+08:00

so I dreamt there was a place where time moves on a different plane. The ancient (most probably sacred) place that actually has milk waffles and was already dark at one in the afternoon- the clock rushed on to 5pm but when I left, time returned to normal.
I'm gonna miss that place.

The Winter Night Witch

2009-01-09T23:40:00.004+08:00

She was singing a song
a music to play
while the winter is long
"Winter night witch whispers to me:
'a kiss on the cheek that's all he does
and all your frost they turn to dust.' "

Oh how my love to see
you once in my dream
touch me where I want to be
"Winter night witch combs at my hair:
'don't dear, don't let him in,
knocking so soft on your skin.' "

Floating out on days so blue
fallen snow turned the wrong colour
your love if it ever was still true
"Winter night witch kisses my lips:
'wait till you see his heart
you'll see its the wrong shade to start.' "

Won't you say its not a dream
though tears flow on in the stream
"Winter night witch tucks me in."

Death by Boredom

2009-01-07T13:46:00.002+08:00

Heard of the lady who turned into stone waiting for her husband to return from sea?
She really died of boredom.

She sits in the same spot for years and years, not moving, just waiting.
Boredom.
Naturally her mind starts to wonder... and drift... and imagine...
...and then she's gone, in a self-created fantasy in her head.
Her thoughts grew, and grew, and grew
until finally, it was too big for her body.
It grew into a being of it's own.
It left her body.
So now, her body, deprived of thought, became a non-living entity.
Unused, it became stone.

I wonder where her thoughts have drifted off to though...

Teaching Sheeps-- subject: Paranoia

2009-01-01T16:40:00.001+08:00

Sheeps that roam
And hazard the ground
Cry out their winter fear
For they really do believe that they are blanketed in snow;

So white as fairies are their fleece.

utterly incomprehensible nightmares of an insomniac

2008-12-20T23:30:00.002+08:00

The little boy was thrown into the tub (it was his bathtime) and scales grew out of his legs.

And yet, when he was fished out, he forgot how to swim.

Vanilla tears

2008-12-16T13:48:00.001+08:00

It's vanilla flavoured
-the ice-cream flavoured crying gas.

Flight

2008-12-16T13:41:00.002+08:00

Lets say this guy wants to commit suicide but he thinks even a 50 storey building is too low. So he bought a plane ticket- (where to, I don't know. He bought the most expensive flight since he knows he is sure to die, and all his money would be of no use to him anymore.) Anyway, he got the ticket, and boarded the flight.
He gives the remainder of all his money, his car keys, house keys, bank account number... (basically everything he possesses) to the first air stewardess he sees.
Then, midway in the air, he jumps of the plane.

WHOOSH!
That WOULD be a wonderful way to die, wouldn't it? Much better than jumping of a building- I wonder if it feels like flying...

I think the birds would eat him up before he reaches the ground

Trying to learn to die

2008-12-13T07:45:00.003+08:00

i wanna know how it feels like to die- to kill myself- but unfortunately, if I'm dead, I won't be alive, and there's still so many things I want to try while I'm still living and breathing. Damn.

Ice-Cream-Flavoured-Crying-Gas

2008-12-12T15:21:00.003+08:00

Looks like I'm back.

Thinking of ice-cream flavoured crying gas
... but what flavoured ice-cream?

I need to know. Can anyone tell me?

And there I swim,

In the heavy pulse of my dream,

Struggling to make contact-