21.8.13

Happy Calamity

The calamities that come is almost at win at turning worms meat of my body.
No matter no worries as within the shadow that veils there lies sparks of joy.
Even as a whisper, the gayest laughters are heard out loud.
Even an explosion of cries are made oblivious as winds of change.
Oh the atrocious woes that come and come and come again.
Oh why not colourful woos come more than these insolent foes of naked eyes.
Come what may as I do not deter from the sadness that occur.
Out from this contest shall rise a champion like a phoenix reborn.
Heart bruised and battered but fantastically strongly mattered.
From the twinkle and glimpses of delight shall return the enemy of shadows.
For you nor I can fight the light that accompanies a cupid-etched smile.
Out of catastrophe and not known by many, this is a happy calamity.

"you had me at hello."

19.8.13

Your Thought Are Your Destiny


“Watch your thoughts for they become words.
Watch your words for they become actions.
Watch your actions for they become habits.
Watch your habits for they become your character.
And watch your character for it becomes your destiny.
What we think, we become.
My father always said that... and I think I am fine.”

― Margaret Thatcher

28.3.13

Luna's Light


In some quiet fight,
One can see this light,
Shining oh so bright,
Behold a magnificent sight,
Cast of in skies height,
Oh how one try as he might,
With heart of hope a slight,
One clenches it so tight,
Then bring it up into flight,
Not knowing what's right,
To shine in much delight,
It goes on every night.

"...goodnight Eleanor."

21.3.13

When and Then.

When I fell, I was scared,
When I knew, I was unprepared,
Then I fall, nothing spared,
Then I knew, someone cared.

When I rise, I am brave,
When I know, I am saved,
Then I rise, up from the grave,
Then I know, to catch the wave.

When I feel, I can soar,
When I hope, for a score,
Then I feel, my inner roar,
Then I hope, for something more.


"...I think I might like you, very much."


 

20.3.13

Coffee and Tea


At a place that is new,
Only seen and been by few,
It sort of looked a skew,
Nothing like any morning dew.

Coffee and tea they brew,
Only pies and brownies, no stew,
I could feel my heart, it grew,
When and then I saw you.

An order or two I threw,
While I saw many did too,
Cupids arrow did flew,
This is for sure, I knew.

As the sky began to change hue,
From light sky to dark blue,
This angel distracted my view,
And from that moment I knew.

I hoped I know what I knew,
Whether this would be true,
But I don't have a clue,
How about you?


"...I found my inspiration again."

19.12.12

Where Now Is My Inspiration?


I lost it.
Perhaps I forced it.
I misplaced it.
Maybe I replaced it.
I'm not sure why.
I'm not a passerby.
Where now has in gone?
Where then will it go?
Why now has it gone?
Why then, I don't know.

Where is my inspiration?
Why is it my inspiration?
How does it inspire?
Or may be is it to aspire?
From root of what, I ask myself.
Who is my inspiration?

Maybe I have gone too far.
Perhaps slightly beyond par.
Maybe what inspires in poisoned by tar.
But still I'll leave my door, slightly ajar.
Come now come in.
Mend this void from all it's scars.
Let's take a ride in my imaginary car.
Listen to the symphony that flows on the bar.

Where now is my inspiration?
Why now the realization?
Might I add an exclamation.
To this bile of asphyxiation.
Comes again with a greedy ear.
All around space wants to hear.
Where now is my inspiration.

I lost it.
Perhaps I forced it.
I misplaced it.
Maybe I replaced it.
I might know where.
I might know why.
But still...
Where now has in gone?
Where then will it go?
Why now has it gone?
Why then, I don't know.

It is time.
Time to go.
It is time.
Time to know.
It is time.
Time to show.
It is time.
Time will tell me, where the rivers will flow.

Where now is my inspiration?
Lost in time through this continuum?
Where now is my inspiration?
Thrown away into oblivion?

No, no!
I wouldn't succumb.
No, no!
I will not be dumb.
Yes, yes! 
This is no conundrum.
Yes, yes!
This is just a junction.
Still. Where is my inspiration?

Take this as a break.
Not more than a season.
Take this as a win.
Not falling into the chasm.
It is not futile.
The heart is gentile.
To the body which is fertile.
Without inspiration, the heart is brittle.
Without inspiration, the can be so little.

Don't worry.
This is no end.
Don't worry
This shall be mend.
Halt on asking about the inspiration.
Continue on thriving on whats more to this function.
Don't be too hasty on any evaluation.
Take time and time will tell who deserves affection.

"Goodbye for now..."

3.10.12

What Say You?

Say hello and make my day.
Say goodbye and give me hope.
Say hello again and I might stay.
Say goodbye again and I shall...nope.

Say to me what I always do.
Say "I love you" only in my dreams.
Say to me "I love you too".
Say it to me and our hearts might seam.

Say you, say me, say it together.
Say you come, say you go.
Say nobody wants to see us together.
Say it don't matter, no.

Say you said too much.
Say I said too much.
Say what come may.
Say we be together, at least till our last day.

"Thou art no gloom nor doom. Thou be part of my heart's bloom."

17.8.12

Probabilities

Just like a stormy rain.
We all know it will come again.
Still, wonder circles the brain.
When will it come again?

Just like an apple blossom.
We all know it will fruit by the dozen.
Still, either it be odd or even.
When will it ripen?

Just like a fall to the ground.
We all know it will hurt all around.
Still, not sure where help can be found.
When will it the sirens sound?

Just like what happen to Heath.
We all know it will be swift.
Still, just covered by a thin sheath.
When will we go six feet beneath?

Just like whatever else uncertain.
We all know that it will happen.
Still, hopping for hearts to be open.
When will hope fall into oblivion?


"Not sure whether this is an infatuation or something different altogether."

13.8.12

Language as a Window into Human Nature


In this new RSAnimate Steven Pinker shows us how the mind turns the finite building blocks of language into infinite meanings. Taken from the RSA's free public events programme www.thersa.org/events

"So, can I take it back?"
"Oh no you can't, it's out there."

30.7.12

Wandering Wonders

Depending on the religion
faith is belief in a single god 
or multiple gods 
or in the doctrines 
or teachings of the religion. 
Informal usage of faith 
can be quite broad, 
including trust 
or belief without proof, 
and "faith" is often used 
as a substitute 
for "hope", "trust" or "belief".

Does anyone ever wonder why, why are converts, or in other words, one whom is newly embracing a different religion, so significantly pious compared to the ones who are born from the religion?

A simple seed of a question which germinated in my mind just now. Letting it simmer in logic and reason, with a little dash of faith and belief, I came to a conclusion with a theory of mine. Maybe, these converts are far more pious and righteous compared to the original believers because they are genuinely enlightened by the true word God. In contrary to the latter, people who are born into their religions are considerably less pious. Before anyone is sparked by my remarks, either in a positive way or not, hold your horses and hear me out. Why have I suggested this idea? Well, to me, the majority of converts choose their new religion because the claim to have found enlightenment or a better cause to their life. a sense of belonging and something to finally believe in is also part of the reason. But still, why are they more pious? If I were to find my path to enlightenment, surely I'd be more pious and my beliefs would be so much stronger. I am not saying that I don't believe in my God and religion but I'm just curious of why, why I am less pious compared to converts. Being born into a particular religion does not mean that you are happy with it. Some may stay and continue practicing but some might leave and find peace and serenity elsewhere. The majority who are born in their religion only practice it because it is the way their culture has been living out their lives for some time now. Trying to believe in something with an empty heart and being bombarded with ideas and doctrines from other causes is not easy. Further more, lambasted by scientific and technological advances that further provoke logic and reason. Nevertheless, there are still some who are born in the religion and still pious and converts who are less. No matter how it goes, it is still in the individual hands. or more likely, their hearts and minds.

"At least believe in something rather than nothing.
At least come towards the light rather than sit in darkness."

stalkers

memoirs