a letter to myself:
sometimes its scary that you wake up realising that you are just
not good enough.
unknowingly defined by the grades, the letters, the different numerical terms pinned on you, the stares, the glares, the unsatisfying looks people put on you.
sometimes, when you just cannot figure it all out, you live on, you stay rooted to moving grounds,
simply without knowing why.
time flies days pass years go
but up till now
i still pretty much cannot tell myself that
i know myself.
dementors, here they come.
are roller coaster rides actually worth the ride?
are dreams meant to be big?
i realise i am still stuck in my little world
where i dream little, dream small
where i pace alone along those corridors
filled with dust piled up without notice
sometimes what i ask for isnt alot, really.
but why are the things that are so small
the hardest to grasp
the hardest to hold on to
sometimes i wonder if all these are worth
worth the wait
worth the pain
worth the hurt'
if holding on hurts,
then maybe its time to let go
right?
and i know deep deep down inside,
you are already on your way
you will be coming-
its a promise, right?
please send me a sign-
im amazed by the workings of Life.
she sneaks up behind us slowly, quietly
and makes different walks of lives
cross each others' paths.
sometimes i know what im doing is so small,
and insignificant;
i dont have huge lofty dreams
and aspirations.
but as i get to know Life a little better each day
i realise she holds the hope
of turning someday so plain
into something simple yet special.
i enjoy such moments of realisations that no one,
except myself, deep down inside, know-
that make me love living a little more each day.
i stared and wondered in amazement at Life;
and she stared back at me.
is she also staring at another work of art
pieced up together by herself?
the loveliest and my favouritest love poem i have ever come across
and i will post it here just so i wont forget the simplest yet sweetest thing on earth to live for: love -
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
-ee cummings
and as i read on, i realise i am gradually hooked onto his wonderful play on words:
if up's the word;and a world grows greener
minute by second and most by more-
if death is the loser and life is the winner
(and beggars are rich but misers are poor)
-let's touch the sky:with a to and a fro
(and a here there where)and away we go
it's brains without hearts have set saint against sinner;
put gain over gladness and joy under care-
let's do as an earth which can never do wrong does
(minute by second and most by more)
-let's touch the sky:with a strange(and a true)
and a climbing fall into far near blue
if beggars are rich(and a robin will sing his
robin a song)but misers are poor-
let's love until noone could quite be(and young is
the year,dear)as living as i'm and as you're
-let's touch the sky:with a you and a me
and an every(who's any who's some)one who's we
-ee cummings, 95 poems
and before i even know it, i think i have fallen in love with his poems:
if seventy were young
and death uncommon
(forgiving not divine,
to err inhuman)
or any thine a mine
--dingdong:dongding--
to say would be to sing
if broken hearts were whole
and cowards heroes
(the popular the wise,
a weed a tearose)
and every minus plus
--fare ill:fare well--
a frown would be a smile
if sorrowful were gay
(today tomorrow,
doubting believing and
to lend to borrow)
or any foe a friend
--cry nay:cry yea--
november would be may
that you and i'd be quite
zome such perfection
ñanother i and you,
is a deduction
which(be it false or true)
disposes me to shoot
dogooding folk on sight
-ee cummings, 73 poems
at least for a moment (long enough for me)
i realised that
the greatest pleasure is derived from the smallest joys,
of you and i
and i and you.
maybe one day
i will lie in the middle of the road at the struck of midnight
with someone who is willing to risk being with me
simply to feel how its like to be on tenterhooks beneath moonlight
maybe one day
i will marry rich with any guy on the street
and forget about yesterdays love at first sight
simply because i can no longer see you in the blinding lights
maybe one day
i will just pack my bag and leave this place
to explore the other half of the world over the other side
simply on impluse and nothing else
where have all the letters of yesterday gone?
cappuccinos; espressos
and all things nice
a sip; a wave
and a sweet goodbye-
dont cry, you are strong.
please dont make them cry anymore
cos it hurts more when im at a loss
myself-
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