The verses of Slybard

*sigh* Inspiration is hard to come by when you are preoccupied with whatever life throws at you…but then again, that’s what makes a poet’s life more interesting; writing even in times of inspiration-drought. lol…

I don’t own a camera but I am amazed by what you can do with it.

Damn, wordpress won’t show my paragraphs! I have even tried using html!Argh!!!

I have seen a ball of light,

her hair in a ponytail;

and I’ve caught a swift in flight.

I have seen, as inches, a mile,

and beheld Nature’s beauty;

captured the warmth of her smile.

Yet there’s just one way to tell:

Answer the calls of duty!

I have seen eyes and faces,

filled with fear, pain or remorse;

and the filth in high places.

I watched hunger consume flesh,

and heard wars’ loud voices speak;

seen blood, wounds forever fresh.

I’ve learnt life’s sometimes like moss:

Firm on sight but it’s root’s weak!

I have gathered Time’s fragments,

Motion’s footprints on Time’s path;

and delayed Fate’s evil hand.

I’ve the power to cause change:

One click and the sun won’t set!

>

This is the darnest I could come up with for a description. I really should try to write about other things, other than women and love and Cupid. Or at least one of the other traditional topics like war and drink. But those 3 topics fascinate me!

Two beautiful shining stars,

A silver bridge and a brass gate;

Two humble mountains of diamond and slate,

Four golden pillars beneath the stars;

Two blue roses for the sun to seek:

All wrapped in meticulate curves of divine velvet;

And a million strands of the finest silk,

To make an angel of a being.

I recently listened to a documentary on BBC about the war in Vietnam, the crimes that were committed for the “greater good” and the eventual ‘scape-goating’. Am not sure whether or not I believe in the notion of “greater good” but I love to think that I know what war is and don’t like it!

The music was intense;

Every one’s baby was crying.

Behind the heap of sandbags, pretense

Was hope for those who were dying.

Whenever the music stopped,

Even for a few wishful minutes, they hoped

That the ‘PLAY’ button

Wouldn’t be pressed again;

That the clouds, already broken,

Would hold back the rain.

But behind that rotting design,

The boldest line was the frontline.

I remember watching One Tree Hill, season 4 or 3, (the episode in which this guy called Jimmy took some of his fellow students hostage), and thinking, ‘What does it feel like to be a misfit?’ I am also grateful that I’ve never had to suffer that way, I have never let myself do.

To have close a friend, ear-splitting silence;

Drifting away, far as the moon’s distance:

To be engulfed in blissful loneliness;

To die alive, absent in your presence;

Have sad bliss, ache for happiness;

To consume hate, summon fate:

To be a misfit!

If I could:

I’d sing a sweet serenade

And tame wild and restless Wind

To carry it, day and night,

Over wide-pathed land, to you.

If I could:

I’d steal from the boy who lived,

Destiny’s wand and bewitch

Night’s bulbs to spell out our names

For the world to see AND know.

If I could:

I’d bribe, with Iris’ bow,

Fate, to deal us better hands;

And Time, with Cleopatra’s hand,

To prolong serene moments.

If I could,

I’d be there with you.

I guess am required by unwritten rules and urged on by invisible forces, to wear my heart on my sleeves. Fine, I’ll do it!

But two lines ought to suffice.

My heart was empty yesterday;

My heart is full to the brim today.

There something funny and exciting about being a red-blooded 16 year old. I wonder whether it’s the new found freedom or the insatiable curiosity…

Once I cried,

Twice I shied.

Thrice I cried,

The tears of joy.