The Jump

The verdant valley hugs the river down.
No glasses. I see blurs of torquoise-brown.
Humid mists taste of an unknown fish-paste.
Almost like licking a goldfish in haste.

I'm on the bridge near Nepal and Tibet.
Over five hundred feet up from being wet
By plunging into the mud stream below.
I forget why I signed up. I don't know.

A thick rope attached to my heel and vest.
The jump is my long-awaited final test.
I look down. Shouldn't have done that. I swallow.
Make peace with God, then jump. Geronimo.

Blurry jungle slips into warp drive
Vision becomes a van Gogh work
Like a fuelless falling Boeing
Sound of a jet stream in ear
Taste so refreshing.
Goosebumps.

Then I stop.
A few feet away
From the waters
I begin my ascent.
Then again my fall.
Up then down.
Down then up.
Then I stop.

Still blind as a tree without my glasses.
My mind works like winter molasses.
Only one thought somehow processes:

The Jump was amazing.


-Wren

Next poem: Better
Last poem: Lemon Ginger Tea

Sorry guys, didn't have enough time for a HQ picture. So enjoy this Gentle Turtle via  MSpaint.

Lemon Ginger Tea

Usually I am a man of black coffee.
I pay my daily two-o-two fee
For dark roast standard at blenz.
But one day, I put on a new lens
And chose a cup of lemon ginger tea
To please my cold-struck throat's plea.

Tinge of citrus, like peeling tangerines
Warm as mittens on snowfield serene
Poke of ginger like an elusive fae
Yellow as Vancouver sun-shown day.
Still my soul yearns the black brew in me
I like you but... You're not my cup of tea.

Wren


Next poem: The Jump
Last poem: Odd Blessing


Here's a random picture of a fish that took me three hours to draw:

Insanity Incarnate by Warren Koo

Odd Blessing

An odd blessing it is
To have too much to eat
Only to be preoccupied by MT
Or finals or term assignments
That break your sleep and hearts.
Or when that printer is empty
Of ink or the morning bus
Packaged with smelly strangers.
Or the HST adding ten cents
To the daily ritual of Lattes.
Having enough rights entitled
To care even of scruffy bitches
And lab rats used for science.
An odd blessing indeed.
Our great problems seem like
Royal grimace and disdain over
The carpet colour and texture.
An insult to the poor and ill
Like shouting to them to be entitled
To cake when they hath no bread.
Really, are we without will?

-Wren


Next poem:Lemon Ginger Tea
Last poem: Coffee


Note: Here's a lazy kitty.

Coffee

Bitter but familiar,
A friendly flavour you are.
Plain black, my daily bread
Extra creme and sug when i'm sad
Double dose to ward off doze;
Mocha on days just to pose,
Iced for Vancouver's hot day
Never decaf. Coffee's dismay.
You make my mind anew
For a toll of two bucks and two.


-Wren


Next poem: Odd Blessing
Last poem: Death of the Butterfly

Death of the Butterfly

Butterflies bright in the stomach dancing
Eloquently their mating wing-hues splendid.
Suddenly all dead. Face-up and leaving
Only these bee stings in my heart's beating
Hope ground-up amorphous and teardrops dried
No is a wound healed only by time's sieve.

That negatory was a serrated blade indeed
Not designed to kill, but to cause searing pain.
Feigned smile outside; while the inside bleed.
Cloudless sky outside, while the mind sips rain.
Even with seven billion souls glitter under sun.
All forgotten, made hopeless, just by one.

Wren

Next poem:Coffee
Last poem: Vacance Dream

Note: One of the poems I wrote earlier in February-ish, but never had time to upload. 

Vacance Dreams

A day gone, a day gone, a day wasted.

Something shall be done, hope lasted

For a few hours at least. Maybe I'll be 

The next Chris Angel, and see

To it that I learn the trickiest illusions:

Cut myself in halves and quarts

To freak strangers' minds to parts.  

Or I'll be a Picasso drawing visions

Into frescoes surviving world wars

That'd survive nukes and burning tars.

Cubes and boxes, shattered faces,

Smashed in with artistic maces.

Perhaps, ingenuity in computer arts

A next Jobs, billions off iDarts

Throwing them like enraged birds

At the consumerism pig herds.

A master chef? Do the Ramsey

And fire words spicier than kimchi,

While skillet sears up fragrant entrees

For modern kings in clubs du cabarets.

Starcraft bonjwa could be one too.

Be the next MKP or Polt, all-in you

Every game. So gosu that Huskies

Casts my MLG final victories.

God of martial arts, so fearsome fast.

Snap onto the bullet after the gunblast.

Jet Li fingers. Literal sonic speed fist.

Break your nose with a snap-wrist.

A dream on the summer. Time is free.

Time to finally become I dream to be.

Wren

Next Poem: Death of the Butterfly
Last Poem: Neon Rose

Neon Rose

Few days ago, I've found a new rose in the garden,

A mystical, glorious, shining, beautiful rose.

In the day, glowing like the lost flower of the Eden,

I sat and admired; I watched and cleansed my sorrows. 

The bright day swapped his shift with the soft night.

I stood to walk away from the garden.

Then I felt a glow aback, soft-lit light

Of the Neon Rose, chroma so ardent.

In a bed filled with flowers, one glittered

For me: A colored light for the blind dog,

I could only see her, neon that glittered.

Joy I felt like a lighthouse in the fog.

A light in the midst of shadows in dark,

A bright bleach stain on the fabrics of dark.

I'll save you from collectors and wild beasts.

You can be my priestess, and I your priest.

Wren

Next poem: Vacance Dreams
Last poem: Lover of Knowing

Lover of Knowing

I see, I observe, and I know.
I do, I think, and I move.
You're like a summer snow,
In my life in the midst of unkow,
I'd like to learn you, in love
To experiment what we sow
Can be beautiful like a doe
Pure and genteel, a dove.

Amidst the bright field of clover
Where I met you first and once.
Unknown, the Pandora's ounce
I'd like to open, and uncover
Who you are. Are you my lover?
Like couplet bunnies, shall we bounce?
Crouch on the lawn, and pounce.
Drunk in bliss, never sober.

Who are you? I'd like to know.
I'm a lover of knowledge.
Let me find your soul, let it show.
You are the lover of knowledge.

Wren


Next poem: Neon Rose
Last poem: Hiatus


Note: I'm back :)

Hiatus

I will be going on a break for a week or so
Just to get my exams prepped ready to go.
I will miss thee all, who read my poetry
But this will be better for all, you'll see.
Thank you all, I'll see you in a fortnight
With new insight with a vision of light.
Ace the tests I shalt try with utmost might.
I promise you, I'll be back alright.

Wren

Beyond Imagination

Imagine a man indebted
With millions in gambling red
And houseless and broken.
Someone comes to burden
All his IOUs for him.
For no rhyme or reason.

Imagine a family shattered
And scarred of abuse
In alcohol and violence.
Someone comes to burden
All the pains into untruths.
To restore unity and harmony.

Now imagine a world sinned
In blood, warfare, and betrayal
Turned away from light and lost.
The Son of Creator comes to die
To save those he created.

Grace incomprehensible and so deep
Bless the Shepard who died for his sheep.

Wren

Within the Tomb

Cold shale besieges the corpse laid
Clad and Clammy wrapped in cloth.
There is no comfort among the dead.
No breath. No light. Not even a moth.

Something stirred. A warmth unfelt
A brightness unseen in the catacombs.
Great quake. Mighty angels knelt
Down to the One who broke the tombs.

-Wren

Cross upon a Hill

A cross upon a hill
Still stands today
Reminder to all
Of saving grace.

A soldier is respected
In death in line of duty.
A firefighter is revered
In death in line of duty.
A paramedic is recognized
In death in line of duty.

Let the Son be remembered
In death above and beyond
The duty called upon him
For He loved the world so much.

The cross upon that hill.
Let us remember the gift.

-Wren

One Ending

And they all lived
Happily ever after.
The end.
A blank page follows.

My finger flips over the barren paper.
An accomplishment do I feel?
A feeling of completion?
No. Not just yet.

Time to pick up the next one.
Let the new story begin.

Wren

Standoff

Waiting
Our generation
One bullet
In the chamber
Left.

Hand at the ready
Calm and steady
Eye to the eye
One shot one
kill.

Lets settle this.
At high noon.
My pen to your exam.
This is the end.
Die.

Wren

Forecast

I see a storm of glory
Raining down on the seas
The whole earth shakes
The whole waves breaks.

A far into the horizon
Voicing thunders of rage
The lightnings crackle
The black clouds cackle.

On a dingy I brace
For the upcoming storm.

I see a funnel of grey
Bringing up the ground
The whole sky shakes
The whole earth breaks.

A far into the highway
Screeching in a state of spin
The whirlwind screams
The tornado supremes.

In a Toyota I brace
For the upcoming storm.

I see an endless white
Freezing flat everything
The whole ground aches
The whole earth glace.

Approaching in a wave
Roaring snows of titans
The temperature plops
The blizzard drops.

In a tiny cabin I brace
For the upcoming storm.

Wren

Flu

Flu

Enervating.
Cold.
Hot.
Cold again.
Sore.
Draining.
Like falling into a quicksand in the desert night.
Dizzy as though a scorpion stung you in the throat.
Devoiced.
Losing my train of thought as though the bridge is gone
And the break is broken, going down.
Down.

Wren

BESTEST POEM EVER.

I think today, I have decided to share with you my best poem so far.

So scroll down, I will give you a masterpiece of a poem fitting this day :





















An invisible ninja writes
Pristinely between the lines
Rightly so to keep his mights
In check, in confines.
Lost if you are if you can't find.


Freshly white texts camouflage
Oh how devious you so are!
Oh indeed how devious you art!
Looking for a ninja text image.
Sorry if you didn't find this. You've been troll'd.

Wren