:- getting passionate

Passionate

by melvin (the persona)

(picture taken on a random night of '07)

Dip your finger in my bittersweet honey

one by one

glistening cherry-like buttons

slip it apart

at lip's gentle touch

tread the tender yet curvature mountain path

at slope of dewfall

your thumb will sculpt out

the clam-shell contour of my ear

I turn my face to your

sweet-scented lustful palm

pressing it tightly to my mouth

sorrow melts away eternally

like the ink of the squid in crystal blue water

your sweat and sauce forms a pool in my navel

(how great and intense can it be)

or my tear falls, turning through space

to splash

like a sigh on your skin

there is no other tomorrows

which dawns glows in insanity pink

there is only flooded heartbeats in union --

and fusion

this poem was randomly composed, in one of the persona's 3am sensual nights, on Jan 1st, 2008.

:- leaving it in absolute darkness

In This City

by melvin (the persona)

(picture taken in july '07 thailand - bangkok trip)

Imagine this

Silence fills the weary night

No music to serenade while the crows slumber

The stars shine dimmer here

In the city of no return

Where children starve

And alcohol impairs the addicted

Where drugs rule the sullied streets

And innocence is stolen away

Darkness reigns this city

Light casts more darkness; shadows

Where the cruel hides away

With their deceits and lies

Hope is lost so quickly

In this filthy city of the broken

Where even the cry and groan of children

Are quieted and ignored

Where even the most talented

Are shunned and their dreams crushed

Hate rules this city

Love is forgotten so hastily

Revenge burns their hearts

Splitting up so many more

With deaths of the pure

And killings of the wrongly accused

In this city where everything burns

Even these words burn to ashes

And blow away in the wind

This poem was composed, to discuss about vices being rampant in metropolitans, and how it can impale civilisations, on Dec 26th, 2007.

:- let the whites do the talking

The Mountain to the Pine

by Clarence Hawkes

(picture taken in dec '05 europe - switzerland, jungfourjouh trip)

THOU tall, majestic monarch of the wood,
That standeth where no wild vines dare to creep,
Men call thee old, and say that thou hast stood
A century upon my rugged steep;
Yet unto me thy life is but a day,
When I recall the things that I have seen, ---
The forest monarchs that have passed away
Upon the spot where first I saw thy green;
For I am older than the age of man,
Or all the living things that crawl or creep,
Or birds or air, or creatures of the deep;
I was the first dim outline of God's plan:
Only the waters of the restless sea
And the infinite stars in heaven are old to me.


The poem was selected, as it aptly illustrates the snow-capped physical beauties of mother nature.

:- the walk of one's life

Walking till dusk

by melvin (the persona)

(picture taken in dec '04 new zealand - christchurch trip)

If only things were that simple,
to cruise through life smelling roses;
but the obstructions worsen the meadow fields,
and we unwittingly crush them beneath our soles.

Dreams sustain us through the madness;
goals give a finish line to our race.
Yet they change with every turn, around every wall,
and remain elusive throughout our paces.

Mistakes are made, and regrets are our baggage;
we will drag the burdens with us to slow us down.
Victories are just flashes of glams, sudden and unlasting, which allow us
to glimpse the road ahead before darkness descends.

Love is bitter, yet it is the bread that hold us.
Over and over it fills us up, only to starve us.
People whom we love sculpt our destinies and strengths,
yet leave us so cold and alone in the darkness.

There are others trying to race with the wind and to the end;
occasionally, we bump into one or two.
The bonds we form help us down the path less lonely
but eventually, we lose each other in the dark.

Alone is not a bad way it seems;
it clears your muddle-head and focuses you on the journey.
Cherish the short intervals during the quest you have,
but be prepared to walk alone till dusk.

This poem was composed locally, based on an inspiration of the long endless road picture (as shown above), which resembles the persona's singular never-ending life journey, on Dec 13th, 2007.

:- bringing love to a next level

The Lust
by Melvin (the persona)

Bodies Entwined
Hearts Resounding
the shivers beads of perspiration
coming and going

Those inhibited places
opening up:
slowly, gently and...

delicately
losing inhibitions
new sensations

A sensual touch here
and a seductive touch there
smokeless flames!
a miracle invisible
between "the two of us"...

Yet to You and Me
engulfed in passion...
lustful love or lovable lust?

Let love be there
and lust be too...

A heavenly feeling
for me and you
feel yourself and feel me too

Erotic fantasies unfold...
Dreams come true
Me for You and Only You
just the way you wanted to...!

This poem was written in one of his "sensual" nights on Sept, 30th, 2006.

:- solitary. art thou thee...

Solitude
by Melvin (the persona)

Another bottle of whisky
drowning in my own misery
Wrapped within solitude
swallowed up in deep sorrow
Feels like the end of the world
slipping myself into darkness eternal

One bullet in the chamber
numb-cold-despair without hope
Body useless
this heart beaten down and broken
Feels like the end of the world
slipping myself into darkness eternal

Shadows of death
keep hanging around
Whispering my name
like thunder in my heart
Feels like the end of the world
slipping myself into darkness eternal

This poem was written in the bunk during a weekend guard, the persona was lamenting the fact that being singular is pathethic; with no one to share his whiskey, drowning his sorrows pitifully alone, on Sept, 24th, 2006.

:- drowning in an imperfection world

Imperfection
by Melvin (the persona)

I'm constantly protesting that inner beauty is a plain lie,
because its hard to keep my spirit from breaking every time I cry-
and b R e A k down completely (inside).
Every time we c r e a k beneath the pressure of,
insecurity,
we lose all sense of inner beauty.
Maybe we just need to remember what it was like before the superficial masked our
hearts in stone.
I'm so lost right now that my reflection is unknown.
So I stare trying to remember how beautiful I felt when I was younger.
Before we were all clones.

Youth - that's beautiful.
Unspoiled innocence.

The child, before he grew up,
into a f r a c t u re d (shell)...
wrapped in an artifical blanket of self hate- self fabricated.
For no reason except...
media influence,
peer pressure for perfection,
and a cult of gloosy, paper cut out, models.
Stick figurines posing as supernatural beings and gods in the eyes of children,
lacking the strength to stand up and be at ease with who they are.
The child wearing an infectious smile and sparkle in her eye-
the kind that lip gloss, built of adonis and eye shimmer could never imitate.
He's beautiful,
on the outside because it comes from within and then he
f a d e s a w a y ______ before my eyes.
And I feel like a f
a
l
l
e
n
angel,
I use to be so special and now every time I try to fly I fall to pieces in the sky.

I know in my heart,my inner beauty... is the smile,
the one that graces, only, my face,
that reaches my eyes and radiates from inside.
That's beautiful.

My inner beauty may be ugly to the rest of the world,
and when that doesn't make me cry,
that's beautiful.

Imperfections make us beautiful,
Without them we'd all be the same,
vain,
superficial and lifeless.
That's me,
that's the me after I let go and forgot the beauty of my imperfections.

Still I'm just another disposable cliché.
There's nothing I can say that hasn't been said before.
I'm the adolescent (at least for now) with overused metaphors and over expressed expressions.
I'm not the only one,
drowning in imperfection.

This poem was composed, when the persona felt the need to address that imperfection is considered as an identity to each individual in the society, on Sept, 16th, 2006.

:- relighting that smile

The Smile
by C. Sow

A smile as cheerful as spring's day
Apollo's ascent can scare compete.
That radiant expression; that uplifting ray.
Your smile makes one's day complete.
Bringing zest and good cheer to all who see
Blessed are those smiled upon by thee.

Broader the smile, deeper the mirth
Encased within that pulsing bosom
Of he, whos smile is heaven on earth.
Like that of a flower's endearing blossom.
Feel the enthusiasm of life replete
Your smile like solid ground beneath our feet.

Your smile, like a bountiful God's boon,
Making those touched, joyously swoon.

This poem was specially sent-in to address the persona's frequent megawatt smiles (in pictures) and was composed by his very good friend, who's currently residing and reading philosophy in melbourne.

:- in touch with your senses

Sinuous Sensory
by Melvin (the persona)

I breath to see this world once
scenting the decaying woods in trance
Maximising my breathe to miniature wealth
catch me no more; for I attaining self-stealth

I aim to see this world
witnessing the sickly living with much frail
With watched self reproach and
self-disintegration turning to veracity
garnering my last sight in grave dismay

I yoke for my realist aural
pondering over the versatile mother nature
Unleashing moments of volatile furies
deafening and paralysing my innate curries

I budded worldly magnificents
glamourising extravagent garnishes within dishes
Tasting the global gentry norms
agonising misfortunate famine diseases form

I live to feel satisfied
stimulating every hormones and testosterones of mine
Erecting vertically world's greatest fires
pleasurising my much needed desires

This poem was written to discuss about the human's most valuable gift (or god's creation): our five senses, on Oct, 23rd, 2005

:- the coffee stain

for you, my special friend...

The Coffee Stain
by Melvin (the persona)

Your smile,
Your classy stature,
Your cherished concerns for me,
Curves appreciably like the crescent of the coffee stain.

With half of the stain,
Symbolises my most trusted love and respect for you.
The lingering half of the tinge,
Shall stained with my awe esteem of you.

Lord created us,
And decreed the eternal halo between the two of us.
Pray thou, pray thee
For the joyous celebration of our astounding unision.

I yield for your presence day by day.
With much love and eagerness, come what may,
Gracing each day with hopeful pray,
Like the coffee stain; shalt our friendship stay.

The uncountable angles of the brunette arc,
Our uncountable experiences it shall mark.
Rejoicing our friendship with the common heart of an obdurate stain,
Coming forth for the quest in merging as one.

This poem was composed 3 years ago, when he has gained inspirations after seeing his notebook pages being stained by a Starbucks coffee mug.

:- seeing "it" in a different spectrum

Why do we fear death when we know it is unavoidable?


'When I have fears that I may cease to be'
by John Keats (1795 - 1821)

When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain;
When I behold, upon how night's starred face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love-then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.

--- [ BREAK ] ---

Death is inevitable.

Life and death is like a spinning wheel. An onwards, ongoing revelation of unpredictable happenings. We celebrate birth with joy. And yet, we weep sorrowfully for death. Similar to a water mill, the water wheel will continue to spin with the presence of water. The spinnning action will cease when there is no on-flowing of the water (the presence of drought); and that clearly resembles and reflects on the begins of our death.

The fear for death should be embraced with much sense of consolation. We should live everyday to the fullest and warmly usher the gift of our tomorrow, our future. Every day, the sight of dawn warms our heart and console us with the clear signifance of the golden words, "We have survive for another day".

Indeed, life is exceptionally short. With only 24 hours a day and 3600 seconds per hour, we have to learn (eventually) how to organise and maximise our limited time span. Have we even consider the time taken, to keep our heart and soul in absolute solitude?

And yes, death awaits us. It is lurking at every crevices of our lives. Whether you like it or not, a twisted plan of God wil land you up in the forth dimension; awaiting judgement. The balancing scales between charity and misdeed.

Embracing rationalism and applying such notion may seems to be a laborious task to some. Optimism shall be. Pessimism may be. Each of us are given the entity, the right to make such life choice. Being optimistic will get you far, but at the expense of your realism. Pessimism works the otherwise.

To all, the connotation for death is melancholic. It is a communal taboo to speak or discuss about death, even in the advanced millennium.

I tried to see death in a fantasy manner. The presence of angels descending from the heavenly dimension, and extending their petite-size arms to me, in hope to receive death in a glorious manner. I welcome their presence wholesomely. A living life is precious. Doing or engaging in things, which we derived joy and pleasure, satisfy and balance out our emotional equation on the fear of death and happiness.

So... what are you waiting for?

:- an introduction to the beginning

in·sight (ĭn'sīt') - n.
1. The capacity to discern the true nature of a situation; penetration.
2. The act or outcome of grasping the inward or hidden nature of things or of perceiving in an intuitive manner.

insights and thoughts.
what would they be, if they are not shared or commented by the world?

he chose to take this, as an avenue, to begin his sharings.

and so, here it goes...