Tuesday, November 24, 2009
I do know
The Parent's Song
A look uncertain
Pierces a face that does not know
Thoughts formed but that cannot be spoken
An expression of resign
Eyes that look longing and loving
Fill the space between and time
To deaf ears
There is no sound
I can see the words in your eyes
When I realise
I'm sorry
I didn't know
To devote to a device and not to man
To choose unwisely
What happens to the lost time
And I know the regrets formed later
To cherish every moment
It's easy to say
But you know that I love you
I do
Can you see the words in my eyes too
Even if I look out of a window
It is the nearest
That we don't reach for
And the most we want
When it's gone
Pierces a face that does not know
Thoughts formed but that cannot be spoken
An expression of resign
Eyes that look longing and loving
Fill the space between and time
To deaf ears
There is no sound
I can see the words in your eyes
When I realise
I'm sorry
I didn't know
To devote to a device and not to man
To choose unwisely
What happens to the lost time
And I know the regrets formed later
To cherish every moment
It's easy to say
But you know that I love you
I do
Can you see the words in my eyes too
Even if I look out of a window
It is the nearest
That we don't reach for
And the most we want
When it's gone
This poem, was inspired by a scene. This reminds me of what's real, and what's now.
When the whole world around you is plugged in, what do you do? The world seems to care less. All the parents who were shelved by a device, looking on with expressive eyes that want so much to tell their children many, many things. I am guilty. And when I see that look on your faces, it tears me a little. And one day I know, it might tear me apart, when I miss you too much.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
I See Myself In Others
Her Once Upon A Time
The little girl in her pink raincoat,
She exclaims to her gran
I look on with such joy
Such innocence I see
As I watch
She sits a young figure
Unaware of the world
No tension in that lovely view
A face full of hope
A smile unrestrained
Living in her own bliss
Happy in her own things
She is the new that has come
From the old that is gone
May the Lord watch over her
I know she is blest
That little girl,
She is so precious
The little girl in her pink raincoat,
She exclaims to her gran
I look on with such joy
Such innocence I see
As I watch
She sits a young figure
Unaware of the world
No tension in that lovely view
A face full of hope
A smile unrestrained
Living in her own bliss
Happy in her own things
She is the new that has come
From the old that is gone
May the Lord watch over her
I know she is blest
That little girl,
She is so precious
I think I understand what Blake was doing and how he thought. Why he did innocence and experience. Because he must have wanted to preserve. And then to present the harsh facts. But what makes life harsh? Isn't it the very people who write these poems? And yes, I am one of those people. When I could smile, I chose a facade. So when you compare a child, who is so innocent, to an adult. You get the difference immediately. An icon of innocence versus one of lined face and callous hearts. But don't we all have a child in us? But it does not show does it? Not all the time; not everyone. Now, it feel like a game of hide and seek. Just like when you were a kid...
Saturday, November 7, 2009
My Thoughts of 15 days
Hello...I have been having fun times. In class, outings, lunches, dinners; you get my drift. Fun times that are so adult-like. The seventy cents bowl of noodle became a twenty dollar three course meal. I used to get a dollar for school. I saved a few cents a day and eventually got to a few thousand. It seemed like a lot of money. Now even ten dollars is not enough for an outing.
People call that growing up. I brand it as a teenage phase of frantic spending. But deep down I know that I use that as an excuse sometimes.
In class, things are fun. The discussions are awesome! I enjoy myself. At this stage of education, we are past discussing simple matters and theories. We think at a deeper level and psychoanalyse everything.
When I go out with friends. We are at the stage of discussing relationships and other things. Now I never thought we'd do that. I admit it still surprises me everytime. What happened to the other more innocent and "mundane" things like homework and talk that just fills and passes time? What happened to all the funny and nonsensical things we wrote on paper notes that we passed around the class?
Grown-ups always say they miss their childhood. Growing up, I was determined not to fall into that same longing. In fact, I didn't want to feel like any of them. I had decided I didn't want to regret. I wanted to do everything, so when I got older I would not go, "I miss my childhood.". I guess I wanted to be different. But looking back, it seems silly and now I laugh at myself. Yet another things grown-ups do! Laugh at themselves! I realise I'm doing whatever I tried not to do. It is so exasperating! I'm filling out every example of an adult that I don't want to!
Well, yesterday, I was walking somewhere. And I saw these two little boys, primary school kids, prancing around a grass patch. They were exclaiming with glee while looking at the empty drink bottles they held in their hands. Right then I thought, I remember when I used to do something like that too when I was in primary school. I would get the guys to catch millipedes and we would keep them in our pencil sharpeners. It was so funny because the teacher would be teaching but the guys would be sneaking out to the balcony to get them.
It struck me; Apollo shot me; I grew up. Oh no! What happened to Peter Pan me? What happened to the girl who said she wouldn't grow up. I don't want to! But here I am. I am a little resigned to that fact.
My quest for the meaning of life has ended. But the events have not. You know, there's this question that some people ask. "If your life were a movie, what genre would it be?" A lot of people say action. A lot of guys mainly. Well for me, I can't quite decide yet. Would it be a comedy? You tell me!
I was on the bus home from school one night. The bus from town to the suburbs is always packed. But well, had to go home right? Boarded it. Rounded the bend and realised there were two other buses behind that were less packed; the third one still with sitting room. I was standing and clinging to a seat while having my body compressed and shoulders aching from my heavy backpack. But wait! The best is yet to come. Because it was so "densely populated", I stuck my hand into my pocket and hoped for the best. Hoped that no one touched me. Unfortunately, there was this guy standing next to me, belonging to the taller species. His bottom was at the same level of my hand and I have to say, MY HAND GOT OUTRAGED! I tried and tried not to touch him. Poor bum I know, but I was having my personal space invaded! My number one rule broken and blatantly disregarded by everyone around.
If you think this is funny, laugh. In this short example, maybe I'm a comedy huh? I'm that bad... I think if I saw myself and my thoughts, I would be laughing my head off! In a sense, this is growing up too. Not that when I was little I went around touching everyone's bottom on the bus. Absolutely not!
I might write a poem soon. See you guys!