MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Imagine if everyday was Christmas... everyday is ... snowing, chestnuts roasting, yule tree, santa, and all the beautiful lights... i would be boring haha! that is if it was everyday...

Well Christmas only comes by once a year, at the end of the year, and it is a beautiful time, a season of giving, love and joy. However it is a time also to look back in retrospect and count our blessings and looking at our achievements and challenges that we faced in the year.

So here is a poem to celebrate, the year that has passed.

I knitted a sweater, it was colourful,
made of many patches.
It was difficult to knit, it got my fingers crossed and
my mother yelled over my shoulder,
No! its not supposed to be done that way!
It was painful, days where i would knit all day
and get blisters on my hand.
But now it is done, it is perfect.

"Just for you"

A gift, to keep you warm in the nights of winter.
And though we be apart this sweater,
thread by thread is knitted with love,
my love given to you.
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Merry Christmas Eve

yea yea i know i have been writing quite a tad bit of highly destructive poetry, so to compensate, I will have this poem grant a bit of hope for this Christmas season. So what is really so fun about Chirstmas, I mean the day still looks like every other day, the sun still rises, the moon still comes up at night. There are no fancy things falling from the sky, nor does Santa Clause climb down the drainage piping of our HDB flats to deliver us presents, even though he would have a really hard time squeezing through window grilles. Yea it is just your ordinary day. Really, that is if you want to be a scrooge! I know Christmas has just been another merchandising project to sell more and keep sales up, but then we would just be missing the whole point of Christmas.

The season to love, not that we don't love everyday, but rather I feel Christmas is a season where we all just take extra effort to be nice, take extra effort to prepare gifts and really to love those people that are close to us. Yea i know its cliche, but I would like to propose this, that we love those that we have not loved in a long while. Where perhaps our father's or even mother's anyone really have done things to make us really ticked off with them or perhaps it is someone that you just cant forgive for doing something against you. I propose we release them this Christmas, and love them. For all of us are definitely bound to love the ones that love us back but how about those who don't, or did not love you, where is the reward in loving those that love you? So i ask that you love those who perhaps you have not really loved in quite a bit or did wrong to you. Yea, do something special this Christmas cos nothing much is gonna happen naturally apart from snow (WHICH WILL BE AMAZING BTW) So if Christmas is not special make it special for yourself!

So here is the poem:

The gnomes work throughout the winter.
They plough, and do my gardening in the winter.
I hope Santa bring them presents.
All seven of them in my keep,
this fortress of solitude where it is quiet.

Only for the crackling of wood on the fire
he whistling of the wind outside.
The sound of trees, with their fur coats on brushing off
the snow.

There the endless days alone,
the minutes sitting in this suede armchair.
Outside the gnomes are tending to my little loves,
herbs, and small trees

they are overgrown with weeds.
The house is in shambles, the fire place is cold as snow,
the trees are burnt and charred black
they stand like ancient African tribal art on display.

Suede is torn, frayed, knitted wool.
All is wrecked, nothing is left.
Only the clock ticking in the left corner.
There, the hands still moving
the sound of hope, sounding, sounding.
Like a metronome, like the beating of my heart.

Looking through the frosted window,
the gnomes are out there
their faces frozen.
I should bring them in, they look cold.
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MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE!!!

I have been listening to poetry and recently I came across a reading by Anne Waldman and Allen Ginsberg, both GENIUS American poets. Ginberg is of course famous for Howl and is my current DP, cos I feel his poems carry the sick desires and the truly displays the obscene as art. Truly inspiring, showing what man really is in the time of the beatniks. Anyway here is a poem entitled:

Bathroom Reflections

Who are you?
With my face, my nose,
my lips and globe eyes that roll back into my head,
with my feet and calves,
toes and thighs that
are stuck with black needles poking from underneath the skin.
With my neck, and bent shoulders like hinges on the door,
with my arms and badly bitten finger nailed hands,
resembling a discoloured manicure.
who are you that is I?

The bathroom steam fogs up the image,
now you are only a ghost from my past, another Scrooge.
The vague outline with the orange toilet light
glossing over your (my) body.

Then you are gone.

The cloud of white mist
taking you away like they did to Jesus up into heaven.
Only a whisper,a small light bulb
that flickers and the filament
burns up in a second.

Followed by darkness,
darkness and the Great darkness.
Opening my eyes I see darkness, hands grope the darkness
feet trod on the empty dark tiles reflecting the darkness
that can be smelt and a dark taste in my mouth.
Darkness and shadows, all I see is the the dark of light,
the shadow, covered in darkness.
My own shadow darkened by the other shadows
that are also darkening in dark room where there is nothing
but darkness left in the dark bathroom.
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I think I picked up something from Anne Waldman, she is quite a clever poet. Most of the modernists are geniuses...but Anne Sexton is still AWESOME ... hmm come to think of it poet that i like have Anne in their names...


___________Words_____________

I used words to make a house.
Using adverbs, verbs, adjectives
grammatical jargon and vocabulary
all verbose and stately.

I used sentences to create a city.
Filled with lines, and dots
stopping, starting, shouting, questioning,
the incomprehensible dialogue along the street.

I made the nation out of paragraphs.
Constitution after constitution,
law after law. Each separated by spaces.
Those arias in the court house and in the Capitol.

I used a book to create a world.
A world where things are imagined,
with thousands of sub plots and millions of errors..
It eventually came to an end.

I created I.

6 billion images of God,
trailing the streets.

6 billion images of God,
eating, starving,
living, dying,
dancing, sleeping.

6 billion images of God,
talking, muted,
murdering, murdered
walking, limping with one leg
blown away by the bombs.
(apparently God was not as immortal as he believed.)

6 billion images of God,
5 million images of God,
4 thousand images of God,
3 hundred images of God,
20 images of God,
1 God, 1 image.

Nothing.
I used words to re-create the world.
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Love

I got inspired to write about this after being down and out for quite a few days and now i really need an output and I guess writing is my output. Ok here goes, i have no idea what is within my own sub conscious but anything that comes to mind I will just put down, kinda like automatic writing, freaky eh? But i think it is also psychological kinda like free association when interpreting dreams, I guess feelings are also from the same neurosis so free association still works... somehow hah!!!

I watched two movies yesterday, Gomorrah and Ne te retourne pas. Both are not too bad considering what is out in the market... newmoon ... haiz and I think it was in Turkey that it kinda struck me that why do people always search for the next fantasy, the next adventure? I felt that it was because sometimes our lives are so empty that we need to fill it with something imaginary and something that we can follow, like a cult of sorts. We have become deluded with something that no longer exists in our psyche and we just need to fill it up with imagination.

Then it came to mind, wait we are going crazy over vampires and mythological characters. It was then I realized that perhaps it is all part of our collective psyche. We all love to watch movies cos it is like our modern amphitheatre, where things were being acted out and it managed to feed the interest of the people. The plays mainly explained why the world worked and how the various parts of the world function, due to gods or demigods etc. It was all to just entertain and yet understand morals and values.
Perhaps our psyche always desired to know why things happened and I guess werewolves and vampires are not people we commonly meet unless you are a unique individual. Nonetheless these movies give us a sense that control is not ours at times and that we can believe in a world greater and more "magical" than ours. Which got me thinking again, wait ... why are we deluding ourselves all the time, believing in a world that does not exist. Dreaming and Aspiring for better things ahead, it just proves that human nature is not suicidal in nature though we are headed for death since birth, it is just like the greeks that believed in the Elysian fields where people prospered, perhaps we are just trying to get a semblance of heaven on earth. (sorry my thoughts are just flowing and there is not much time to worry bout grammar or punctuation)

Heaven on Earth, what we want? I really don't know... Then I came to thinking about love and relationships. I was sitting on the MRT, in a rather stalkerish like fashion I was observing various couples, lucky me there were a few couples. Almost all of different age, which got me thinking... what are the relationships that we all have, i mean boy girl relations. Like at different age we want different things of our "soul mate". For example, when we are around late primary 6 to early part of secondary school we just want a girlfriend cos we just want one, we usually don't understand what having a girlfriend entails but it is just cool to us. Then when there is heartbreak, we usually don't understand or we just think the other is an idiot to us. Well we like to believe that it is the other's fault, but it helps us grow.

Then we reach the age, upper secondary school, usually we still have no bloody clue why we want to get into a relationship but we just do it cos other people have girlfriends. At the same time girls may want someone to humour them, to see the beauty in them and it mainly focuses on the girl. (this is all hypothetical) but yea it kinda does. The boy just tries his best and have a good time with her, she is at most a friend that you hang out with most of the time someone that you are good friends with, you often tell her some secrets and when there is heart break then it is sometimes a bit harder to let go. But we do anyway and believe that perhaps she was not the one for me. Still we sometimes cling on to that semblance especially if it was a good relationship.

Surprise, Junior College, it is as though i have not observed this enough haha!!! ... This is a period where we try to make relationships work. This is a period of time where we try to be mature, kinda like kids acting like their dad and mum, i mean play-acting if you come to think of it. It is where we dress up nicely, or we try, and go out for fancy dinner and just talk. Often the relationship is deeper and there are periodic fights. It is all a process... Needless to say we are just trying our first child steps with a relationships. It can develop further if the two survive together without ripping each others faces off...

And then After JC... Well i have not reached that point of life but through observation, we are trying to love this person, and we realize love is not like on the telly. It is not what we hear on our ipods it is just a feeling of a match to someone you can trust with all you heart. Yet, sometimes we trip up, if we trip up badly then it does not work out but most of the time if it gets to this point usually we know each other's quirks and can accept them. Well I guess that's how relationships change over time...

I am no expert but sometimes in a relationship, we just have to put on our rose tinted glasses, and love the person for who he/she is and look past the mistakes, and look past the wrong, then it can work out.

sigh... haha!!!

Yes i know I have not been blogging here recently and I do apologise for a long wait. So here is the posts that i have posted elsewhere and finally decided to move it here to my main blog site.

When we are sad, we smile
to tell people that we are fine.
When we are happy inside, we act sober
to pretend to the rest of the world that we are going through storms.
What is man, who is this one i see,
that pretends to be, something he is not.
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The sky is draped in mourning garments.
No more the coloured castles in the sky.
They are only lies that my mother told me:
the Earth will always be dry and I could
go out and play.

But today is no such day,
the puddles and raindrops are large.
Reflecting in them are the many coloured lights of
people's windows. They fall, purple, orange, blue
white. A kaleidoscope of colours painted on the pavement.

I sit there by the window
watching the rain patter and turn to snow.
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Mother, i wish I could keep you forever.
So i will cut you up and take out your innards,
stuffing you with cotton and keep you as a soft toy in my house of toys.

I have seen her die,
on that iron bed, plugged into the sockets
bags of water, electronic systems, wires wires wires.

Visiting hours are over,
I exited the room, I am as I am
unchanged,

the patient still remains on the iron bed.
I am free.
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