「Freefall of Memories」

The moment I stepped out of the train, I could imagine the smell hitting my senses again, the noxious yet familiar smell that was signature to this area. I have never figured out the origins of the smell, something that borders along the line of coffee with hot chocolate, yet it was too sharp to be so.

But apparently, the smell was now gone. Replaced by something else, something foreign. Maybe because I have been away from too long. It has been more than a year since I have travelled to this part of the country. This part dictated an hour's travelling time, and in this age of instant gratification, Time was too precious to spend an hour travelling.

And here I am. For no apparent reason at all. Actually there was. A very good one actually. I'm in pursuit of something. And it brought me right here. As I walked through the dark pathways, an unrelenting torrent of memories came pouring and I was caught unaware. It was as though my defences had been breached; that someone had actually managed to reach the me that was hidden.

I thought of the Saturdays and the Sundays that were spent here. The ones with my buddies. And the ones with her. I walked through the shopping centre, and everywhere I went, I was reminded of her. I could almost see her shadow beside me, talking and laughing as if nothing happened. How insane it seems, to dream of her now when I thought I had already put the dreadful past behind me. It was still too painful thinking about it. Let me just correct that. It will never be not painful thinking about it.

As I made one round and walked past the bus interchange, I could still picture myself standing in the midst of the hustling crowd, a lone figure amidst the multitude of figures, waiting for her to arrive. The love of my life. I am still waiting for her. Nothing has changed. But Fate decreed it be so that she will leave me, stolen from me, taken off the face of this earth.

On that fateful day, she just had to meet me. Said it was urgent.

Was it? Now I wished it wasn't that urgent.

Or else all would have never happened.

And I wouldn't be all alone.

On this earth. Facing this, all by myself.

While you look upon me, your graceful figure in the heavens.

It must have been a joke. Someone's cruel joke.

But it was true, and there was no denying it.

********

4.30 am. For no reason at all, I'm feeling giddy. Was it the lack of sleep? I suppose not. This is just like any other day. Then why am I feeling giddy? I couldn't even finish today's entry.

The solitude is even more heightened now, like a sharp knife slicing into the depths of my heart, seeing how far it can go. Even when I'm surrounded by friends, I still feel alone. Cold and alone. Maybe it was the memories. The resurfacing of them, those terrible nightmares that I still have, even now. They still wouldn't let me go, would they? Not until they drive me to my watery grave.

Or will 16 floors do? I'm on the highest floor now and the view here is terrific. The glistening lights of the port in the distance, even at 5am. It shows how busy we are. The city that never sleeps. Or perhaps, some of them.

Plummeting 16 floors down has got to be a real challenge. It's almost like freefall, but more exciting. For it will be the last thing that you ever do. And it ends real fast too. I can't say much about the pain though.

********

5.15am
Now I'm on the rooftop. Surprisingly, it's very breezy here. And you can even see farther. It's like you are looking down at this small part of the world, this tiny red dot.

One step closer.

The mechanical cranes in the distance looks foreboding. Like hands that rise out of the ground, searching for something. Grasping for something in the air. Straws?

Another step.

Can you hear the singing? Someone's playing Sarah Brightman's Ave Maria. I love her song and how her voice hits the high notes. Wonderfully soothing. I wonder if it's playing for me. And her of course. I will never forget her.

The last step.

The finality of things. One step closer towards her. And one step away from this dreadful world that holds nothing more for me. Everything is already up there. I'm coming.

Wait for me.

5.21am.

********

Gracias

2004 to 2005. It has been a year.

A year since I was in this same position, poring over dusty tomes for my finals. Like everyone, concerned over how one would fare academically. And delaying the inevitable by putting my pen to torture. Thank you pen. Yes you. It has been hard on you.

A year (and a few months) since that eventful day where I made the decision to pound the dusty road alone. Selfishness demanded me to do so. To stop delaying the inevitable. Perhaps? I was in the wrong, and seriously I did not deserve what I was getting. Life had been too good to me. I am glad that you are happier now. Thank you.

A year (and three months) since the role as soldier was halted prematurely. It had been a wonderful two years and six months. A lot of bonds were made, and of course, a few were broken due to injustices. More importantly, these bonds were carried over into the present. Thank you.

A year (and three months) since I started work at this cosy little place. Though it was hectic and my time was turned upside down, I have learnt a lot since. About people, about service and about many other things that one could not have learn in school. And even if one could, would you really? If you have a choice to start at the lowest pecking order and the middle, where would choose? Thank you, my surrogate family. I wasn't able to give my all, but I certainly gave my best where it was concerned. It has been a wonderful time. Thank you.

A year (and 28 days) since I first started penning. And probably the same for those who had stuck with me from the very beginning. I congratulate you for your persistence even though this is not your run of the mill blog. And thank you to you readers for gracing my tomes with your presence. Technology has truly made the borders of our countries permeable such that I have readers from all over the globe to share my thoughts with. And of course, vice versa. And if it isn't too much to ask for, I hope for you readers to at least sign my guestbook, so that I can put a name to every reader.

Thank you.

What I Saw

Along the path I see
A petal drops
From a guilty rose
The threads of
Time
Snaps and breaks
As it floats
Down
Into the black cesspool
Swirling
Juxtaposing against
The blackness
A spot of
Red
Or is it white?
Remembrance fails
As it vanishes
Into the void
Just a fragment
Of all in
Eternity


*******************

Another 55er...

Technorati Tag: 55 word poem

Tuff and Gruff

The sad shuffle
Of feet, and
A key turns...
A void called home
Yet with a gruff
A touch soft
And cuddly
A streak of white
My white knight?
Woof! Warm? Wet?
Fills my heart
Brimming with Joy
And Contentment
Like the sun that
Rushes to chase
The night away
With it's beautiful rays

Photo courtesy of http://pan-cake.blogspot.com/

**********************

Thanks to .:A:
and his 55 word poem tag. Here's my contribution as well. A tad late, but as the cliche goes, better late than never.

Technorati Tag: 55 word poem

My blog is worth $7,903.56.
How much is your blog worth?

Totally inane and irrelevant to my tomes, but what the heck, just for the pleasure of things. Sometimes, people cannot be too uptight.

「深葬」

Pray not, fear not the Unnamed deed shalt soon be done,
and thy task shalt be to slumber forever once more.
Retreat into the abyss of darkness,
Away from the glare of the light, away from all mortality
For nothing holds thee, nothing bounds thee
To the symphony of the terra firma,
Once more thou art free, to go where one's pleased
Unlike the inhabitants of terra chained to me


Atlas, spoken to Aristocrat, date unknown

「芯葬」

Have you ever felt the sudden urge to confess, to unload all your troubles, sins, your mistakes to someone? It could be anyone in your life, the person you are closest to. Or the person that is not, since he or she would most probably have no idea what you are talking about BUT would still go on and nod his head.

I did.

As I was walking along this lonely dark path, the urge to confess came to me in a flash of light. I wanted to tell someone everything. The reasons for it all. Perhaps it was the light, concealing the shadows. Yes you read that right. The light conceals the shadows.

I need a purpose, an overwhelming drive to carry me through all this. Maybe I have found it.

Have you found yours?

I have been rather remiss in my duties I guess, due to the lack of time and the lack of inspiration. Even the part after Prelude is stuck, after 3 stanzas, the well ran dry. So I reckon you have to wait a little while longer.

But, since I was stuck on that "epic" I was working on, I decided to move on and create a 55 word poem much like what .:A:. had done. Pretty difficult moulding it into 55 words, but the basic structure is there.

Just a few more sleepless nights...

My apologies to interrupt the story that I was telling. There's a few more parts to the Prelude but...

I have to make a choice again. Whatever I choose, I'll be damned for it..

I believe I'll have to vanish from this face of the earth for some time...

To decide on the road that I'll be on...

Prelude

Sleep, a powerful drug
In the realm of broken hardts
Is a, much sought after commodity
Where it, denies and soothes
and drives away, the beautiful Psyche

But alas Sleep is yet denied still
To Those who laid in the dust
As much as the chariot is still
Driven across the sky...

Cold

By: Static X
Cold

We kiss
The Stars
We writhe
We are

Your name
Desire
Your flesh
We are

Cold
We're so cold
We are so
Cold
We're so cold

Your mouth
These words
Silence
It turns
Humming
We laugh
My head
Falls back

Mazing Mirrors

The reflection of him
In the waters of life
Refracted, sometimes by light
Or else covered
By the blanket of night
Seen by the others
Like the Maze of Mirrors
The one eagerly plays in
When one was a youngling

And now

When one is old
Or probably
Perhaps two
Stuck in the maze they are
Playing a foolish game
Of a piteous masquerade

***********************

Well, this is my first draft again. It's not yet completely done but I guess I would just show it to my dear readers the process of it. Very raw it is, I apologise if it hurts your eyes.


Yours truly
Aristocrat

Survival

Today has been a good day. To have got back positive feedback from my comarades-in-arms was to say the least satisfying. It was good to know that you have that spark in you to ignite the flames.

Ah, big ego we have here today, don't we? Well, do just let me indulge in myself for a while. It's not everyday that one does such things. But suffice to say that the streak is back. Even for a little while.

And now, it's time to start that engine roaring.

Hmm, a fairly optimistic post eh? Sometimes, I even surprise myself. Now, where's my bourbon?

She sings

She sings and it was
Like light pouring out
Into the dark voids
One was filled with hope
As the sight falls upon her
A truly eternal beauty
Of fairest skin and palest eyes
And her golden locks
Tender tendrils over her shoulders

Once I saw her
I was smitten,
Knocked deep down and senseless
Trembling with extasy*
My soul took leave of its vessel and
Flew to my mistress’s side
I yearn to see her again and again
Day after day, addicted
I went to the same place
Where the birds sing and the goats wandered

So out of reach she seems
A figure standing by the willows
Awaiting none yet waiting for one
Her stature too high for me
A princess to be, soon it seems
But for me a pauper or a bard-in-waiting
Two rivers meandering apart
It’s meant to be

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As promised, the first revision of "She Sings". It feels much better on the lips now, doesn't it? Smooth and light on the tongue and perhaps you may even taste the citrus tang as you swirl it about in your lips.

Unreachable, the beauty is that we seek after. Yet we still go after it, the lady in the castle, a princess be yet we are just poor poets or bards. Not matching in stature, yet we do dream. And from these dreams rise the most powerful musings. The creativity surges in these times and perhaps, that is the only reason why bards, poets and writers always fall in love with the unreachable one.

*esctasy - as spelt in those ages

One look at "She Sings" and one can't help but feel that that I have not built enough on the emotions of the protagonist and let my readers have a deeper insight into his feelings. Another flaw would perhaps be the abrupt ending to this poem.

Forgive me, but I am rusty of late and devoid of time. Mayhap I would improve on it, most probably when I am given the time, but this week has been a rather hectic one, driving one to hell. Or am I already in it?

One wonders.