Screw

In the mirror
she sees another.
When her Mother
becomes the destroyer.
Every evening
she dresses so pretty
When they all
pay for the party.
That she makes
as she breaks,
within, while outside
nothing quite changes.
She doesn't let the sick smile ever flinch.
As the angst punches the life
out of her every inch.

Conversation

What are conversations?
Why do we feel the need to communicate our ideas, exchange our opinions or simply put our feelings out there?
Is it natural for humans to wish to have dialogue, try and reach a common ground with the people she/he is conversing with? Or is it something that we do out of habit?
What I think I am really trying to find out is , how significant is conversation to our very existence?
Could we have survived without it?
Then there are the questions of with whom, what for, how much we communicate.

Lots of things unknown. Questions still dazzling us.
And quite possibly, that is exactly why we communicate.

To find out.
To vent out.
To discover.
To flatter.
To empathise.
To patronise.


Perhaps, to grow.
And figure out what the others don't show.

Have I answered my question already?
Communicating with oneself is important too. Never forget to keep talking to yourself. Just stay connected. That's probably why I'm writing this blog.
And I think this- the continuous and dynamic flow of ideas - this unrest is important and maybe even essential to have clarity of thought and purpose in life.

So let's talk.
 :)

Unfinished Stories

Good beginnings are essential,
Endings must always satisfy.
Better beginnings bring potential,
cheat our childish hearts, teach them to fly.

It's bliss to know the wandering river meets Sea,
Separated lovers find eternal love eventually.
The poor old man runs into money
All with the unseen , yet unquestioned hand of Destiny?

Look again, the fabric is flawed.
Maybe this time with eyes open, you wouldn't be so awed.
Can't you see the chaotic colour?
The sense is lost!

What if the rivers ends with the cliff?
And she never sees him again?
What if the old man dies whiffed?
Where is the hand now leading?

Live we must, only with the present.
Only guessing endings we do not know of.
Good beginnings are essential.
Must endings always satisfy?

The Wind and I

He waits outside my window,
I think I caught him from the corner of my eye.
But then I turn to look,
only to find traces he leaves behind.
On Grandma's face, a wrinkled glow;
On the child's, a pair of locked eyes.
And the fluttering pages of my frayed book
And within, a palliative belief.

I wonder if I should let anyone know
how his touch softens my senses
Around him, when my tears show,
He stops to dry them.
As if we're his.

Emote

A million thoughts crossed the head,

as a million smiles faded.
Thousands of faces-of those living and dead,
threw tired memories that time had created.

The words must be spoken or the thoughts stray, unwoven;
The feelings be felt and the the pride be knelt.
Let persons be either deplored or adored,
It's faith that needs to be restored.
Vent the anguish,
the happiness,
the anxiety,
the unease,
the complacence.
We welcome the variety.

If you ever find the time

Dream

by Priscilla Ahn

from the album A Good Day

Things that you tend to forget in the course of your eating, working,sleeping,eating.

This song takes you away to the land that every child is born into, raised into forgetting and finally forced into living. A brilliant getaway lasting 3 minutes and 30 seconds.

The last stanza paints a peaceful picture and seamlessly merges finality with fantasy.

The elegant voice is as controlled as it is addictive.

Parts of the song however, might feel slightly forcefully elongated.But that doesn't hinder the effect of the song.It certainly deserves to be heard once, so it do that again a few million times.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MKfDwChOoHI