Monday, 28 May 2012

Photopoetry #1: Blossom

Okay. I think I'll start doing series of poetry based on random photos I find. Here's the first one.
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Blossom

Auburn autumn's harvest seems a decade afar
Sultry winter's death is a bygone memory
Even the mild-glow sun of spring can't par
Beautious blooms in my garden sanctuary.

Endless sky owned by the solitude sun
Raining down raisin rays of riveting heat
Over sweet scents of chromatic blossoms
Where synesthesia of vision and smell meet.

In harmony the honey-pollen and summer
Dance in devilish elegance in devious temptation
In melody the honeybee, their tune-hummer
Nature's symphony unmatched by any sensation.

Magic and music is in the air this glorious season.
'Tis a horrendous sin that is worse than treason
To unenjoy the temporal art beyond any reason.
I breathe in the summer: the glorious season.

Petal
By Denise L

Sunday, 27 May 2012

Moment's Momentum

Life in motion be smooth as lotion.
Slippery and soft; high and aloft.
Let my dreamful moment's notion
Not just an illusion, but a potion
Opening gate to goals not scoffed.

Shadow of yesterday in the city
Cluttered crank and, crumbling dank
Mistakes and flaws, half-outlaws.
All left behind like false idol-deity.
Like Titanic sank. Rolled over by tank.
Lessons learnt. Took only guffaws.

Light of tomorrow in the bright sun
A journey path not yet walked upon
Travel planned but unperfectly done
Make my detours as I make my run
As I walk, ride, and fly in joy and fun
Miles of smiles to be walked upon.

So I live tonight, the today, now.
Won't die, throw the die, or sigh.
Live regretless with pow and wow.
Know that in this memento of present
Is a gift of momentum, godsent.
Live moments that you won't deny.

Wren

Monday, 21 May 2012

Over and Under

Too little is a venom cured instantly by giving
Too much is a poison healed only by slow removal

Rare steak can be simply cooked a bit more
Burnt steak is hard to salvage for the mouth.

Hunger is solved through simply eating more food.
Obesity is mended through tiring exercise and diet.

Not enough meds for that headache? Take more pills.
Quadruple overdose means dialing 911.

If the sea levels are under, we get more real estate.
If higher, say goodbye to friends in Japan and LA.


The poor can be satiated with little gratuity.
Problems of the rich need more than money.


Wren

Monday, 14 May 2012

Watch

Palpitating right down to left up
Marking the unnoticed ghost
Of time. Faithfully and steady.
Reminds us of our appointments
Promises and meetings kept.
And those perhaps forgotten.
Ticking and tocking, a silent
Invigilator of flow of life.
From new to firm to wrinkly.
I salute thee my wristwatch.
Forever loyal to thy duties
Until time or battery stops.

Wren

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

Six

One
Two
Two
3 3 3
Four Four Four Four
FFFFF
IIIII
VVVVV
EEEEE
Six                            Six                   Six                         Six
Six
Six

Wren

Monday, 7 May 2012

A Tale of a Petit Prince

The sun arched overhead, warm and humid.
Sparrows danced freely in the summer wind.
Majestic marble'd castle stood vigilante
In midst of floral field of bees and birds.
The mansion housed a small prince
And his equally petit, beau princess.
Like two books shelved side by side;
Like a graphite pencil and an eraser;
Like a silver fork beside a silver spoon;
They were a small couple with big joys.
Living a life by enjoying the little things.

But, one day on a dark overcast night,
The moon muffled and stars covered,
A being shadier than the shadow itself,
Slipped in and stole the princess away
From the majestic marble'd castle.
The petit prince ran and ran for her.
But the shadows retreated too fast,
A mile after, the prince out of breath
And gone was his life's reason to breathe.
The clouds vanished and desolate boy
Was alone, accompanied just by th' moon.

Next morn, he was no longer mourning.
His tears was vanished, but not his will
To recover his best friend and lover.
With a saber in hand, and map in other,
He ventured out into the wilderness,
Leaving the majestic marble'd castle.
Through the bogs and marshes,
Over lava field and under bridges,
Crossing rivers, fjords, and lakes,
The petit prince made it to the dark
World where his beloved was kept.

From tiny gremlins to fat ogres,
From idiot imps to wise witches,
From solid zombies to unreal ghosts,
He defeated everything against him
From achieving his belov'd princess
Finally, the shady princessnapper
Appeared and laughed and laughed,
"You are only a small boy, no talent;
Go back to your home, this instant."
The petit one did not reply however,
Only raised his equally petit blade.

Clang and clang resounded in the hall
Of grimy and rotting skeletons.
Shadow slowly pushed the prince
Into corner with his seven-feet foil.
Petit prince did not panic or despair,
He slipped between the big legs
And slid his tiny dagger-blade in
The Shadow's gap in bone armor,
And with a swan-ripping scream
He vanished. Banished from earth.
The princess recovered. Loving hug.
Back to their home they went.
To the majestic marble'd castle.
And lived happily together as one.

The moral of this poem is,
No matter how big the challenge is,
Regardless of how weak you seem,
Even though the fight is unfair,
And the trials seem way too hard,
Persevere and fight for your love.
Whether it be your romantic love,
Whether it be dreams and goals,
Whether it be becoming the best,
Jump through the fires and battle
The seemingly indestructable foes.
Like the petit prince of this tale,
Nothing would have been gained,
If you did nothing about your love.

Wren


Petit Prince by Shirley Bi
Huge thanks to Shirley for this awesome drawing.

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Drive

You are on the highway,
Pavement to the tires, 
Accelerator pressed down,
Going with the traffic flow
Behind that car, keeping 
Distance. Follow the cars
In front and drive.
Fast, but not really.
Better than average.
Realize what you are.

You are a racecar.
From front to back 
And back to front.
This is quite clear.
From side to side
Left to the right.
What are you doing
On this measly path?
Going seventy within
The sixty MPH zone.
This isn't your road.
Going with the flow.

You can go faster.
Break the limits
Set only by yourself
By watching the other
Chevys and Toyotas.
Get that speed needle 
To the red zone
Where you've not been.
On that racetrack,
Unleash your life
You may crash,
But you can't win
Unless you speed.
So drive onward.
Drive your life.

Wren

Next poem:
Previous poem: Better


Tuesday, 1 May 2012

Better

Lost a big opportunity,
That train to wonderland
A chance for something
Broke my heart inside
An aorta lacerated
That day dazed by, that day.
Looked into the mirror,
Shattered it down
Fragments of my flaws.
My glassed-red fist
Is my reminder to be
To be a someone.
Someone better.

I know I'm good.
At least I hope so.
I know I'm me.
I know what I can be.
Looked again into
The boy in the mirror.
"Time to grow up boy.
Time to man up
Time to realize your dream"
I know this is silly.
I also know it's not.
I know I can be better.
I know I'm better than this.
I know I'll be a someone.
Someone better.

Started a new path,
Cut down the hedges
Make my own path.
A race against myself.
The old me in a fisticuff
Versus the new one.
I won't take this easy.
If life's going to punch me
In the face, I'll kick back.
Mind over simplicity
Strength over comfort
Charm over just as now.
A step every day,
On this a new path I carve
With a machete of will,
I definitely will get there
To finally become someone.
Someone better.

When I am better,
I won't miss the opportunity
Once again. Run and catch
That train called you.
I'm sorry. I apologize.
I am still not there yet;
I'll understand if you'll go.
I won't make you wait.
But know my words are true.
I can. I shall. I will become.
Someone that you can admire.
Someone that you can respect.
Someone that you can love.
And when the next train comes.
I'll be on board first class.
Or die trying catching it.
"Man is born to surpass himself."
Time to wake the fuck up boy,
From your slumber in the mirror.
And grow up into a man.
And become that someone.
For her.
Someone better.

Wren

Next Poem: Drive
Last Poem: The Jump
Landscape in 7B - Warren Koo