>===nothing gold can stay===<

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

- 4:32 am

have you ever met rikki tikki tavi?

i met him the other night, in a dream. he sat there, in the midst of whirls, twirls, colours and squirls sitting quietly with a sagely expression on his little furry ferrety face, his whiskers twitching ever so slightly in the face of the breeze. the colours maddened as i came closer and his ripe amber eyes deepened in intensity as he sat there in silence for a few minutes before looking up; and with a casual toss of his head said "meow.", before looking on stoicly once more. "I live the dream within you, friend", he seemed to be trying to tell me. "so never forget who you are." With that he yelled RIKKI TIKKI TIKKI TAVI and bounded off his little rock, chasing the whirls and scribbles, sometimes catching them. I asked him what he was doing- "I am building a river" was his reply. and as i looked on, rikki taught me love, tikki taught me joy. his patterns showed me faith and passion, he lightened day in his own fashion. the colours danced their agreement as flowers burst forth from the top of that green hillock. at first i laughed at this little ferret with his big ideas and impossible ambitions, and i laughed at the colours painting the sky all shades of green, blue, red and yellow and i laughed for no reason till my eyes closed of their own volition and reopened; to leave me laughing at a mirror. i could still hear the laughter echo down the long corridor. never before had i felt so alone; a chill gust stole in to nip at me and floating dust motes chose to halt their eternal perambulations for a break on my shoulders. i moved to leave when a merry little voice put me at loss, and a ferrety shadow scampered across.

"i live in all of you, my spirit is true, my spirit is true ", he seemed to whisper. "and if you learn to accept me, you will see what will be. no matter where you go away from yourself, nearer together or closer to far, never forget to never, forget who you are." the wind whispered for the form of rikki tikki tavi till a sudden breeze puffed it away; and it was gone for rikkis return, another day.

fin

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

- 2:00 am

when night comes down i sometimes know
the reason why the sun must go;
must hide away, without a trace
to leave the stars to take its place;
for when night comes and it is dark,
alone you stand, with your thoughts stark

you stood for a time in an open field,
staring at hands; broken lifelines
split in twain;
rain on shoulders; broken heart that
that beat in vain.

for once,
there was an angel on your shoulder
and there it would remain;
and though the night was growing colder,
you learned to live again.

you asked her once if day would come
if you'd ever see the light.
"Do not fret," she said to thee,
"We are lovers of the night".

So;
there was a demon with an angel on its shoulder
gone traipsing through the night,
and where its heart had long stood still,
it beat now with delight.

but night would pass and day would come;
the angel left; and love was done,
the end of living, now it was one
and misery - here comes the sun.

there was an angel on your shoulder
and though the night was growing colder
you know you should have told her
that you loved her very much.

for without her the Devil was dead;
soulless eyes stared from his head;
a newness gone, the deadened story,
gone to dust what once was glory.

Yet faintly whispers gentle hope,
the dream of a firefly;
"always keep memories near
and she will never die."

and so;
there was an Angel on your shoulder
and though you are growing older
your heart has ever told her
that you love her very much

fin

Monday, May 13, 2013

- 10:34 am

there is a kind of end i know
when the river knows not where to go,
its movement paused it starts to slow,
the waters forced to cease their flow.

there is a kind of end i know,
when the moon forgets it's meant to glow;
and leaves the world in a darkness rare;
the unadorned sky appears less fair.

there is a kind of end i know,
when the wind no longer wants to blow,
and leaves may fall where they may please,
but for the rest, a warm unease.

there is a kind of end i know,
when grass and trees refuse to grow,
in windless morn you hear them cry,
"i do not wish to embrace the sky!"

the end i've seen is a silent path,
a walkabout through timeless space;
i venture forth beyond the end,
from death is come a new born place.

so leave moons to shine,
let rivers flow;
let wild winds whine,
leave grass to grow:-

i leave these ends back in the past,
the end i know will never last.

fin

Thursday, May 09, 2013

- 6:52 am

sometimes life ain't what it seems // 'cos its all a dream
forgive me

and in the dead of night he vanished, never to return again.

fin

Monday, April 22, 2013

- 12:33 am

"where have you been?"

"i've been gone."

"who have you been?"

"i've been gone."

"try to keep your eyes open this time round. too many too many's for my own liking these days."

"too many too many ends."

ends are good for one thing; ends are punctuation, where theres a stop; and so must follow a start. but this isn't the start it sounds like it should be; its a pause, and the start comes after. bated breath, the space between the flash of lightning and the crack of thunder; here it is, welcome. we're back.

just checked in; to see what condition my condition was in

the dust of day, oppressive sun is past; night is come. it makes welcome return; there is solace to be found in the folds of its veil; in the solitude, the quiet. you redeem yourself in your own head as you frantically seek to rearrange (undistracted) the broken pieces of what was into something you think resembles a fleeting image of continuity. its all a story, being retold again and again; birth life death birth life death and the cycle continues. each time something happens a little different; something feels a little different; voices louder, thoughts are forming, time is, passing heart is breaking; until everything falls so nicely into place that you decide its time to start chasing forever; before abruptly you are reminded of your mortality. its not too bad. who wants to live forever?

so here it is; a return, to words; for comfort, for meaning. in days to come they will fall from the sky, plunging downwards (drop drop) to dew leaves, trees and the tip of your tongue. and i will watch, from my window, and i will write the rain.

fin

Friday, May 25, 2012

- 2:22 am

a glass of sheridan's in the midst of a thunderstorm

rearranging stuff

fin

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

- 7:41 pm

i said i would and here i am. here i am in a new space, a new place; its almost another life, and the journey to this has been long and arduous. seven years ago (has it already been so long?) i left the sunset house; a different world. an older place where fridays were the best because it meant that saturday and sunday was on us which in turn meant football at the park with about 30 other people who were equally delirious at the prospect. then again those were different days; memories of hours spent in the warm glow of the dying day met by the coolness of oncoming night. there was a sort of security to the constancy of happenings; i was the master of my world.

then, a long journey to other places; the house in bishan, the house in bukit timah, the house in thomson. now i am here, watching the night fall, turning the tall trees that loom down outside into tall shadows against the backdrop of the velvety sky. sometimes, there are stars and they seem tangled up between the intertwining branches of the trees; diamonds peering out through the darkness.

i once looked on these things with open eyes until i had to throw myself into the progression towards where i now sit by the window of my room. next year will be my fourth year of study as a student of the law; and then what? i don't know. in the silence these questions lose their importance.

my eyes are open again.