The Flight of the One!

Most of his life In the Air
Free as a bird, contented as a lark
Each day he grew day by day
Some say he is odd, some think he is different
A unique individual he is.

Many places he hath Travelled, the east, the west and those in between
From Germany to China
Long distance no less
Gay memories and heartaches with many amidst

He gives his heart without complaint
a love he dedicates uncompromised
Yet his kindness has been repaid
By deceit, betrayal and many a lie.
He has given his heart 100%
yet his ROI 0%

Travelling without a happy ending in sight
His heart grows numb, his body lays weary
He decides to take flight again
Never landing, never resting
Always moving, always learning
He has hurt from the past, he looks for the future.

The question is: "How will this story end?"

"If we find love along sixth avenue, can we find marriage in a building?"

Have I really Moved On?

Have I really moved on?
I feel my body, I don't feel my heart
Displaced and contorted, 2 entities apart
My head says YES, my heart says NO.
Should logic precede everything in life OR
should the heart be the centerpiece of life

Like a vagrant who wanders in the vast desert
Searching for the sacred oasis he knows he cannot have
He has seen its mirage, he has sniffed its scent.
Is it real he will never know.

He should have moved on but still he persist.
365 days of searching for a myth
He finally gives in
the wear and tear
the tiresome journey has taken him nowhere

He stumbles across a tiny well.
Sheltered, dependable source of life
He aches from the past
He recovers from the hurt
He decides to abode at the well
His lifetime commitment to a everlasting bond.

Yet once in a while, he looks to the past.
he knows he shouldn't but he does
What if he could but he can't
Turn back time to 365
Just one time,
to let him find,
the sacred oasis that eludes his time

We will never know....


"We must learn to let go of the past to make space for the future -Gary Lee"

The Power of Humility

Work has been on for two whole months
Spreading the word and realigning lives
Cared and shared
Loved and cried
Learnt an important lesson of life
Humility is his name
Simplicity is his game
Somestimes the best things in life come in the smallest things

Fourteen year old boy with a mind of five
sprung forth in one day of my life
A day not too long and yet not short
enough to teach me the purpose of life
MY LIFE

Simple things I shared with him
Kicking and focusing on the everyday things
May not seem much to the Average Joe
For him it was a challenge though
He threw a fit and broke into tears
Tested our patience till it worn thin

Times like this, I ask myself
"What must I do to make you learn?"
Remembered Anne with Helen,
How she taught a handicapped girl
To learn, love and experience life
I thought to myself, I could do the same
Love him, care for him and be like him
Then you can understand him!

Relevation came forth on that day because I was humble to learn from him!

Dedicated to Dooodoooyoooo & those who have made a little difference to his life

The Number 12

A Simple Number, an easy line
Twelve means different things to different lives
To some it could be the number of months in a year
To others it could be the time they wait before their bonus
To a few, it could be a celebration of life and to a selected few
A way to remember those who have gone to somewhere better.

It has been almost a year since I have met my old friend,
My inner space where I pen my thoughts
A year I spent travelling around
To see the world, the good and bad

I learn some new and refresh a few
But the number 12 lingers in my heart.
A promise that was made 2 years ago!
The wound still fresh from its creator sole.
I await for the day,
when the one who made this 12 a reality someday.

Every little thing counts

Big things small things
Which ones matter more?
How and why does it matter so?
A big race or a big day
A little courtesy or a little flame
All these matter in a different time or place.
Have you ever wondered when the big day will come?
For you to outdo, outlast and outperform yourself
Be the best you can be, an inner voice screams
You try your hardest but to no avail
The will is strong but the flesh is weak
That is perhaps when I learnt a great deal today
From the little things that matter most

It is not the big things that matter
But the small ones that count
Accumulated in abundance like a horde of ants
A single ant may seem insignificant and small
But an army of it can become a majestic sight
Like termites in a wooden house that slowly eat away
The foundation of a structure if left untouched
Like a relationship with flaws and cracks
When problems arise and left unsolved
It slowly devours and meticulously plots
To destroy the very love that exists
Filling the void with hatred and words unkind
Till all that remains is nothing

Never leave things as they are
No matter how small they could be
Sometimes it is simplest of things
We cannot see because we are blind
Not by the eyes but by the heart
That clouds the mind and distorts the soul
Open your heart and your mind

A one sided affair

He walks nervous onto the stage.
Every creak with each step he takes
The final moment is dawn upon
As he stands firm at the grandeur of the hall.
The light flickers against the wooden walls
Every grain every line with history to tell.
Rose colored seats adjoined as one
rows and rows of crimson red.

He closes his eyes as he imagines
An audience awaits for the melodious sound.
He loosens his throat and deepens his breath.
As he times the right moment to impress
with all his past hidden emotions kept far at bay.

With burning desire to express his forlorn love,
a bursting passion suffices within him.
He lets out a voice angelic and pure.
As all around stay hypnotized by his song.
Some tear while some sob
As they endear themselves to his sad plight.
The expression of love to the one he belongs.
Songs of admiration and dear,
hopeful for a lovely reply.

The melody ends and he holds his breath.
A moment of silence as he waits,
biting his lips till they bleed.
Nothing!
Nothing!
Nothing!
He opens his eyes.
Alas he is but a fool.
A voice of a century is heard
Yet only an empty hall hears his song.
A one sided affair indeed.

Harvest Time

An empty field it once was
A farmer came and toiled the lands
He tilted the soil and nourished the lands
Pouring within the gift of life
Love and care, a nurturing feel
Luscious grass and blossoming flowers
Morning dew against the sun rays
Misty droplets cloud the dusky moon
A wonder a sight for all to see
Blissful and peace in every seed

A moment’s neglect and a twinkle of an eye
The beautiful turned into the ugly
A beast came upon and ravaged the land
Planted his weeds and treacherous thorns
He robbed and stole
He cheated and beguiled
The innocent land of its pride and joy
Coercion and force upon he came
Raped the land of all its innocence

The farmer returns in shock and anguish
To see his land ravished and torn
The beast fights hard to protect what is “his”
Who really owns the piece of land?
The farmer or the beast
Or does it run free as one should choose
To be able to choose who it wants to own
Between the right or the wrong
A choice to be made amongst the two
Choices have consequences!

A victim by circumstances or a victim by choice

As we plough through the days of life as wandering souls, plodding through the remains of what our ancestors left. Is it not sad that we as Man, live half our lives in books and the other chasing dreams that seem impossible to many yet we still believe that with a whimper and hope that someday we might or could become, living a realistic picture of our idealisic dream.

Perfect as what some might call. A perfect life made up of a perfect house, a perfect car, a perfect career, a perfect relationship and a perfect dream. Is it not ironic that should we live by such dreams in an imperfect world, we become imperfect through its very existence.

It is often easy to blame, complain and make excuses about how unhappy our life really is. Traffic jams, not enough money, rising cost of living, unreasonable people, backstabbing colleagues and the list goes on and on. It is so easy for us to push the blame to things out of our locus of control, that makes us feel better for a moment but when we awaken from our dream of blame, we get rudely awaken from our slumber of excuses.

Most never get to solve their problems and wind themselves out of misery because they choose to be in such a state. Human beings are such sadistic things, we like to watch movies that make us cry. We like to watch others in pain once in a while. Perhaps we too choose to feel sorry for ourselves when things don't go our way.

SO REALLY, are we a victim by circumstance or a victim by choice.

A Journey of Symbols

We venture through life as a wandering soul,
searching for answers about many things
Who we are?
Why we are here?
When will it all end?
Why me?
Questions endless aligned in streams
Yet answers seem like a crevice and seams
in a harsh desert where life juices is scarce
drop by drop the voice appears


Sometimes we look too far and look too deep for answers we seek.
I came across a story of which the answers we seek.

The Story begins of Nasrudin and the egg

One morning, Nasrudin - the great Sufi mystic who always pretended to be mad - wrapped an egg in a cloth, went into the town's main square, and called the people who were there. - Today there will be an important contest! - he said - Whoever discovers what is inside this cloth, will be given the egg inside it!

The people exchanged glances, intrigued, and answered: - How can we know? No one is capable of divination! Nasrudin insisted: - That which is inside this cloth has a yellow center like a yolk, surrounded by a clear liquid like egg white, which in turn is contained inside a shell which breaks very easily. It is a symbol of fertility, and reminds us of birds flying to their nests. So, who can tell me what is hidden here?

All the folk thought Nasrudin was holding an egg, but the answer was so obvious, no one wanted to embarrass themselves in front of everyone else. What if it wasn't an egg, but something more important, a product of the fertile Sufi mystic's imagination? A yellow center might suggest the sun, the surrounding liquid could be an alchemist's concoction. No, the madman was definitely trying to make someone look a fool.

Nasrudin asked twice more, and no one dared say something foolish. So he unwrapped the cloth and showed everyone the egg. - You all knew the answer - he said - And no one dared put it into words.

"Such are the lives of those who haven't the courage to risk: solutions are generously provided by God, but people always seek complicated explanations, and end up doing nothing."

An interesting tale
A short story it seems
Yet left my thoughts provoked till this day and age
We all need courage to pursue our dreams
Dreams give us hope
A wish for tomorrow
As sure as the sun will rise and set
Where can we find our inner strength?

SYMBOLS - a way of life. It represents who you are, why you are the way you are and where you should take your next path?

Ask yourself this day: What is my symbol and is it useful for me?

Sometimes a little courage and the right direction can go a long way
To happiness and what our hearts desire.

Playing Games with FATE

Fate plays a cruel hand
When you think you are winning, you are not
When you think you are almost at the end, you realized you went one full circle
Some want life to be a bed of roses
No adversity, no pain, no sadness, no tears
Where sunflowers grow and kids smile all day
Would it not be nice to be happy always?

If thou agrees and thou consents
Then why do we send the jovial kind
condemned to asylums for the loony lies
Because they are crazy to be gay all the time?
What is to be normal, to have an ordinary life?
Is it to be sad and happy all rolled into one?
Regret and disappointment ever so near
Distress and frustration a daily fair
and once a blue moon as a special treat
To think of death as a means to an end
Is that what normal really means?

It is so sad when one is to read
seventeen girl gets AIDS in bed
First and only time
Poor soul, beguiled by fallacies of true love
That by giving one receives
Perchance this be a lesson to all who pass
the temptation of lust and bodily fun
That one might resist or else succumb
To the dark musty cranny where unknown comes

Gambling is a game for fools
When you think you win, you lose nine times out of ten
Be smart be wise
Invest your time and life
To somewhere else where fate cannot divide
between you and what you deserve
In many years to come

A Pack of Cards


Life is like a pack of cards
Fifty two in all
Milestones or tribulations
We will never know
Till the last drawn breath
An Ace or a joker
A winner or joke
Ironic it seems that
A single card can decide
The final epilogue of one’s life
Whether you laugh or laughed at

Every card has a part to play
In a eyes of a mortal man
Everyone aims for THE picture
A king, a queen or a jack
Never a three, four or five
Unless the rules are changed
When invention of humanity are distorted
By some perverse demented soul
Who seeks sanity by changing what he cannot change
Who is the real insane one? The sane or those deemed insane
Who set the rules? Who really rules?
Does the king rule its people or the people rule the king?

Every facet of life represented by a card
A spade, heart, diamond or club
Two colors there are: Red and black.
Red, a color of passion, love and perhaps even lust
Black, a manifestation of darkness and vile that lurks
Turn the mirror around and what really happens?
Red becomes anger, hatred and pain
Black serene as can be, emptiness can be a wonderful thing

Nine times out of ten
Losers at a gambling table
Could this be what life really juxtaposes?
Should I be meek and never take chances
Or should I take the first step forward?
Never ventured nothing gained
You cannot climb a smooth mountain


A mark of success is by the things that matter to you most – Gary Lee

AWAKEN THE GIANT WITHIN

A title coined by one of the world's greatest motivational coach Anthony Robbins. Everyone of us has a hero within us, a giant that lays in its slumber just like in Greek Methology where the battles of the Gods and the Giants took place. All it took was a catalyst of some sort to enrage the sleeping giant. In my rest and slumber, I came across many revelations perchance a journey to become more aware of myself. My name is ME but I am not my NAME. Having been on this earth for the past so many years, how well do we really know ourselves. When SHIT happens in our lives, we blame everything around us. We curse the seven heavens and those who left us in this plight. But when we are high and mighty, do we ever remember to be grateful to those who got us there? I too am a victim of circumstances. Along the way, I learnt that the past indeed does not equal to the future.

It is a simple equation actually. You cannot deny the existence of your past because it is what made you who you are. Your past inevitably decided your present but it does nothing for your future. What you do NOW decides what happens in the future. Hence your past does not equal to the future. But mathematically speaking, if A=B and B=C; then shouldn't A=C? Sighs, Life is just so complicated.

Recently, I had a philosophical thought. Why call a chair a chair since it has four legs and holds things? Should it not be called a table instead? And why is a table a table since it has four legs and we can sit on them? It should be called a chair. Who ever decided it should be called a chair or table? Can it not be called a squigglepop or leggyfour? Seems crazy indeed but we sometimes gain inspiration from insanity.

I have woken up or at least I think so, ready to face future endeavors and challenges to come. As they say, you cannot climb a smooth mountain. Without adversity in life, one can never sharpen one's blade and allow the shine to come through. I found the sparkle in the gem of my life through the dirt and crevices. Have you found yours?

Eternal Slumber

Dear all, this will be my last entry due to some unforeseen circumstances...... for those who have kindly poured in your comments, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. As William Shakespeare says, To be or not to be... famous words but how many of us know what it truly means... nothing last forever... till next time my friends... hibernation mode..... ON (for how long....... I don't really know)

The Snail

The snail slow and steady
Has a tale to tell
of dark secrets & hidden past
too morbid to soothsay
Maybe I will write a book
Or even a novel of romance, horror and perhaps even lust
but alas the truth of what presents
of lies, facades and twisted fates
of what seemed real now becomes surreal
many thought the snail was gone
quished and squashed
liquified and evaporated

Deceptions aside & hope beckons
everything has a time and place
Purpose and reason for existence of such
that comes a day of reckoning
when the past will be relived
people thought computers die
when formated and complicated
but none would have known
knowledge was king
with registry still intact
the truth will be revealed
and the future will be predicted
HAHAHAHA
the day will come
when the good will triumph and the bad will be ..........

Forget all this
sport for Man and creatures alike
The snail has his own perils to deal with
of waiting and waiting and waiting some more
Just say YES the mind screams
and wails at the top of its voice
NOW is the word
NOW is the time
NOW is what I want most to hear
You know that NOW

NOW

Reading a book
Titled the Power Of Now
Simple title
Yet music to my ears
Nothing changes yet everything does
Why you ask
So did Socrates
Greatest Philosopher on Earth
Mentor to Plato
As all might have heard
Asking questions day and night
We might say he is curious
Others may call him nosy
Whatever it was
Whatever it is
He who does not know is the wisest
For the Oracle predicted so
that when asked who was the wisest of them all

Socrates was his name
He quivered he shook
He wondered it all
Does it make sense?
Who ever said that had to make sense?
When would be the right time to ask?
When would be the right time to act?
When would be the right time to say YES?
Socrates thought long and hard
forty scores and many nights
until he stumbled upon the answer.
If he waited, if he hesitated
One day would never come

He knew which word would be most befitting
A joyous ending to end all his woes and sorrows
To straighten his furrowed brows and ugly frown
To water the withered flower within his heart
The wisest of all Man dead or alive
There was to be none before him or none after him
There would only be one him, Socrates

And what better word to replace the fables and fairytales
of once upon a time or one day
than a simple word, a 3 lettered creation
NOW!
The question remains, when would NOW come?
Perhaps 1 day, 5 days or even 10 days from NOW
Keep thy promise, keep thy word
Your word is gold and treasure delight
NOW is the word I would most like to hear.

The TREE

A sapling spawned
The beginning of life
For this young seedling
To face a myriad of worlds
a land of unforeseen prophecies
To weather the torment of winds
And the patters of rain
Day after day
Night after night
Rain or shine
In life, opposites exist
Or so says the philosophers
Nothing from nothing
Everything from everything
That everything exist for a reason
broken into its elements four
of air, water, fire and earth
spring forth the gift of life

Challenges rose and troubles brewed
Yet in the most enigmatic fashion,
Roots in place
flowers blossomed in sight
The chirping of birds
The greenery of leaves
A sight to behold
Almost wanton and sinful
to dwell in such an anastacia
of fantasy and make believe

Now strong and sturdy
A tree it has become
Branches with teak motif
Leaves of lush green, brown and red
A spectrum of colors
that only artists could capture
Untouched and untainted
by the concrete jungle
Forces of natures
where Angels dwell
and devils shun
A wonderous perspective into what life is
And what it could be

Years past
maybe 10 maybe 20
Numbers it just is
What has become of this tree?
A dreary sight
Tears streamed down the ducts of every eye
A withered spectacle
Of what it used to be
A single leaf falls in an almost dramatic dance
In melody with the cold winds that blow
sends shivers even in the bravest of us
A parched lake hangs beside our friend
Everything's gone
Everything's dead
Leaving behind a lonesome tree
to listen to the howls of the midnight wolf
Is it fear or is it sorrow
of what tommorow could lay

TIME

Title of a magazine
Name of a place
1st words taught to a minor
A way to quantify our lives
We have come to a full circle
From adolescents to adults we have become
Yet no one can really answer this question.

WHAT IS TIME?
Some may say it is what is on the watch
Some say it is to keep us on time.
Who in the world ever said we had to be ON time?
Why can't we be under time or over time?
In this god forsaken land we call the rat race
Everyone is racing against time
Have we forgotten the simple pleasures in life
To appreciate what we have or feel
Even pain can be a miracle once in a while
Let us know we still live
In this cemetary we call home
Why is a city a cemetary and a cemetrary a city?
I guess I found my answer to that

Fairy tales begin with "Once upon a time"
Which time, where and how?
When did it all begin?
Alas if only reality was like fables
To suffer through tribulations and trials
And have a euphoric ending
of victories and celebrations
But it is not to be
My most hated word for the moment is.........
One day........
What is this one day?
two very simple words
One is a number while the other reflective of night
Yet these two words torment me day and night
If only there was a way to count it
One day two days
When will this one day come?
When will the day come when I can see the light at the end of the tunnel?
When When When?

I sickened myself asking these questions
Wanted to stand tall and walk up straight
Pretend everything is alright and life goes on
But like a clown I put on a show.
Making people laugh and enjoy the show
But I'm crying inside
No one knows it but ME.
Wish I could put this burden down
like a fallen hero with no where to go
Wearied and beaten
like a foul mongrel
A fool in vertigo of love and hate
A sprial of neverending concoctions of feelings and memories
of what was and what could be
Heightened expectations that could never be met
of self and of scenes of what might be instead

Time, all I need is time
Tell me someone
When will this one day come?
Patience is just a word
Easier said than done
With emotions and feelings all rolled into one
I feel like a dwarf standing at the brink of a vast ocean
at the beach overlooking the waters
As it forms a horizon between the fluid blue and the fluffy blue
The sun shines bright and hope seems near
Yet it can be dashed with a tsunami of waves
Washing the poor dwarf and away we go
Far far away to never never land
If only I knew where I was headed with this
A boat or even a scuba gear
could aid me in my quest
in pursuit of my hero's journey
So kind soul, please tell me
When will this one day come.

Untitled

Not a Simple Plan
Or a lazy attempt
But how I feel and how I think
At this second and minute
Can hardly be compartmentalized or categorized
Into the conformities that Society has set for its minions to follow
Blind are the believers
To take it all in
Trusting that the higher beings know it all
For a Man who thinks he knows all knows nothing
And a Man who knows nothing knows everything
Why must we conform to what the past has set for us?
Perhaps so that history will not repeat thy self
I think, I feel and I disagree
The morning mist and the evening glare
thousands of years have past
same words different views
ceteris paribus is an absolute impossibility
a word found in economics
about demand and supply
I hate the word demand
especially those who think they know it all
flaunt what they have and what they think they know
Arrogance is all they have gained
From knowledge accumulated through the years
wisdom is knowledge
Knowledge is not wisdom
Obviously some have simply thought otherwise
Too big for caps to fit their heads
Hope and dream and even wish
Vengence may come upon them
Vanquish the proud and the disrespectful
For the good of Man
Do humanity a service
People may say.
Don't hate the player
Hate the game
A game we are all forced to play
Who ever came up with this stupid term
the customer is always right.
Politeness goes down the drain
No please no request
Demands, I want it NOW, it can be done
have somehow replaced the sweetness of how we once were

Woe is me, how can we ever turn the clock back
to destroy these thorns in my flesh
that irk me everytime I see them
Harsh words we use to describe them
What can I do?
Feel sorry, cry my heart out
Nay, for those are for self pity
We should be strong and fight for the common good
We have the alpha omega, the ultimate weapon
beyond human comprehension and understanding
A smile is all we need
grit our teeth and bear the pain
surpress the anger and wrench the vengence
Behind the smile
malicious thoughts and forceful words
hidden behind every molar and inscior
awaiting a day when the good will finally prevail.

Confused?

Confused, a patented word for mere mortals
When the world is in a topsy turvy,
Or when perceptions reflect a mosaic of life.
What is she saying? I'm confused
What does she mean? I'm confused
What does she want from me? I'm confused
Why is she doing this to me? I'm confused
Where do we go from here? I'm confused
Questions fashioned to boggle the minds of the weak ones
Ice blended emotions and issues all rolled into one
Like multi-colored plasticine manipulated by a young child
Who knows not what he or she does
But enjoys the torment of creating a confusion of colors
intertwined by destiny and twisted by fate

Maybe we think too much, feel too deep and fall too far
To ever understand the complexity and purpose of tweaking the veins and vines
of human emotions and minds
Per chance a day may come
When the clouds may clear
and the mist disappears
revealing in all its glory
a beam of bright white light
a ray of hope, a multitude of answers
Wisdom, a word always heard but misunderstood
How does one know when to be wise?
When one attains nirvana or when one learns everything that needs to be learnt?
If that is so, then wise is no one.
I too will be wise when my answer comes,
of what I seek that the One knows
I pray each moment that the day will come
when the whispers of what I desire to hear
rustle in the winds
that she may beckon my presence
One day
For now I remain confused.

Another day has passed


It has been a couple of days since I have updated my blog and I guess my faithful friends who have been following my blog must have been shocked and at the same time happy somewhat that I decided to update my blog more often. I guess I decided to do so because it is an outlet for me to express my thoughts and vent whatever frustrations and anger I have about life. My mentor once said: "What cannot be expressed finds expression" Now come to think of it, it is so true. If I have not found ways to express my feelings, I think I would have gone bonkers by now. In the past, I used to explode at the slightest thing. Friends who have known me for a long long time would know this fact about me. Scary would be the word. Nowadays I choose to implode everything, numb myself from the affairs that this world brings. I am not sure how much of it I can hold inside me.

I have been drifting in and out of consciousness. I live in a very surreal world right now. I can't seem to tell what is real to me and what is not. People and things that I thought was a certain perspective now seems like a total facade. I cannot take everything wholesale anymore because of lessons that I have learnt that the world that we live in is not as distinct as it seems. It is not longer a world of clear black and white. Instead, there are so many grey areas that I can no longer distingush what is the truth and what is falsehood. It is so frustrating having to 2nd guess what people's intentions. I really miss primary school days when life was a lot simpler. We did not have to worry that people had hidden agendas. Life was in your face as it is. I find it really anguishing and painful that people's actions sometimes don't match what they say. How am I supposed to know how to repond or react? It is not what you say but how you say it that matters more. I thought that things would look up for me and I was coming out of my dark patch. I was happy for a while, leading a more carefree life but things had to happen and I am now stuck in this vertigo of rotten emotions again. I have been ping ponging between a multitude of feelings that makes me feel frustrated being a human being. Why can't life be more opaque than it is now? People play games, everyone does. I am growing weary and worn out from having to participate in these games. I have become an unwilling party in this sport that some have fashioned to get the minons to participate for pleasure or jest. Whatever it is, it sucks to be treated like a fool sometimes. Everything is a choice and maybe I have made a choice for others to treat me like a fool. On one hand, you know that you deserve a lot better. On the other hand, a part of you still feels that there is something worth holding onto. For now, my vision is like the weather in Singapore, gloomy with showers from time to time, unpredicatable most times. Maybe in a couple of days, the sun will shine and we all can go get a tan but we know that it is unpredictable. We will just have to see.