Friday, October 17, 2008
Why so many at one go?
By chance, i happened to get my password and user id right. viola! i don't know how many will still read the blog but if you happen to, i hope you like the pieces of writing i've posted.
Breathe before life passes you by.
Posted at 04:38 pm by punkalicious
Some of my new pieces of writing (part 5)
Losing Sight Of Me
Idealism does not complement Pragmatism.
The two find it hard to co-exist.
One reaches far beyond, stretching to Utopia
The Other yanks down to Earth.
The cord is taut.
The tether is frayed.
Each minute strained is
Each minute of pain.
Of waking and sleeping
So similar yet differ.
One shared experience
Retreat two separate.
Of you
Or of me
Maybe it's not now.
Maybe soon.
But i hope it's not
Never. Ever. Again.
Posted at 04:37 pm by punkalicious
Some of my new pieces of writing (part 4)
Untitled:
The restaurant's walls back away from the table and the buzz of the waiters surrounding them fade into a comfortable watchful distance. The cutlery on their table lay untouched not even when the slice of cake is placed on the table between them.
Both look at each other but seem hesitant to make the first move. Then they both reach out at the same time and the prongs of their forks entangle and clang. Soft private laughter erupts.
Two brains, one mind.
The first date is always a little awkward. What to say? What not to say? How to fill in the pregnant pauses? Magazines only tell you so much, on the date you realise that how it goes is really up to you.
Sometimes when you both say the same thing or attempt to talk at the same time, you build up a false impression that the two of you are made in heaven. Meant to be. Soul mates. Kismet.
But really, i think you're both just desperate to make sure the date doesn't end too drastically, that perhaps you hope you can still salvage what shreds of friendship is left. Or maybe, like me you just want to entertain and hate silences which make you feel intellectually retarded.
The first date ought to be memorable but more often than not i find myself checking against or crossing out against the mental checklist i have in my head.
Posted at 04:34 pm by punkalicious
Some of my new pieces of writing (part 3)
Untitled:
The veil was rent. Discarded in a hurry, it just lay there half submerged in the mud. The freshly cut magnolias on its trim bore evidence of stiletto prints, pressed deeply into their petals, marring the white of their flesh. Strewn across the white floor trimming of the pavilion – streaks of red wine seeped into the floor accompanied by red petals torn off the floral arrangement. From the champagne fountain, the top three tiers laid in broken shards of glass on the floor.
The guests had long left the scene. Embarrassed and taken aback by the bride’s hysteria, her parents were among the first to leave, leaving her bridesmaids to calm her down and clean up after her outrage. The best man stood apologetically in a corner, taking it all in, bearing the bulk of the remorse since he was the harbinger of bad news.
Gingerly, the best man moves forward and starts picking up the petals and the shards of broken glass and rights the floral arrangement. He lingers over the overturned serving platters that were set down hastily the moment the joyous mood turned. His fingers trail the border of the dinner setting and the place mats – both of which were some of the many things he had helped to select whenever the bridesmaid pleaded a headache or a date. He had been beside the bride all this while, selecting dinner placing, arranging for food tasting sessions, deciding on which flowers went best with the bride’s evening gown.
And frankly, he was quite sick of it. He felt nauseous just thinking of the time he had plastered a smile on his face while he chose the icing on the wedding cake or when he had to read her vows to make sure they were “just perfect”.
Malcolm was simply sick to the pit of his stomach.
Posted at 04:30 pm by punkalicious
Some of my new pieces of writing (part 2)
LOVE - what is it good for?
Absolutely nothing (?)
=====================
to me, love is a tactical game.
if you merely go with the flow with no plan, soon you will find that you haven't learnt anything concrete about your target and perhaps, the interest has run itself dry.
it's about a choice of words
about a prime moment when you choose to earmark your relationship
it is supreme carefulness with regard to where you choose to go
about what you choose to talk about during the date.
this is only at the start.
after which, it is about small surprises and
unexpected hugs
about in-depth conversations and simulations
so you learn.
at that is the middle.
i just think that when you look back at a relationship, you should admire the landmarks you've created.
just so you remember fondly.
Posted at 04:26 pm by punkalicious
Some of my new pieces of writing (part 1)
It's cold and the towering trees above us cast gloomy long shadows on the shrubbery around us and the trampled dirt track we are on. To the left of us, trees. To the right of us, trees. And the forked path before us - clue-less.
And i turn to you and jab you in the shoulder, demanding to know why we are here. How did we end up at this forked path? Why did we take the wrong turn earlier on? How come you didn't stop me from getting us lost?
So you cast a sideway glance at me and grin. I look into your grinning face, and I draw my eyes to narrow slits. I know that grin - the grin you always wear just as you prove me wrong, or worse - push the blame (rightfully) on me! And of course, you don't fail me. You gloat and say that the reason we're lost is because you let me lead and i have poor direction sense.
But honestly. Who can tell what's where from what's what in a forest? Everything's green, i tell you! Folding my arms across my chest, i turn away, upset to be caught at my game again! You're a wily one. You know me too well.
Then in a distance we hear the rumble. A few more rolls of thunder and the rain comes pouring down on us. The dirt track quickly muddies up and the trees shower crystals on us, as if the rain was inefficient.
An umbrella? Are you nuts? You know i travel light - nothing on me except my clothes, which are quickly drenched and stick to my skin. The gale picks up and i shudder involuntarily. Far be it from me to let you see how truly cold i am. But i am.
Again, that grin. The knowing grin of something that will put a one up on poor me. You pull from your bag pack - a poncho. Great, i say! You remember to bring a poncho for yourself. No, it's okay. I rather freeze to death than share it with you.
But you huddle close and convince me somehow to share - the poncho and your warmth.
And now, we're two happy lost campers.
Posted at 04:25 pm by punkalicious
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
.These three trees.
The 3 trees
Three trees stand
In the middle of my garden.
On one there is barely
Enough foilage to cause a heap
Of Autumn leaves on the ground.
This tree is sturdy and strong,
His trunk - able to support the weight
Of numerous passengers on a
Journey.
The other tree, decked itself out
In auburn, bright green and
Yellow array.
Standing tall and confident,
He knows full well that his branch
Would make a sturdy swing post
For a little girl somewhere.
The third tree, a young sapling
Is weathered and stands
Uncertain about his future.
On his trunk, rough edged hearts
And lovers' names are carved
Upon his bark.
He is a plaque of love.
These three trees
Stand tall in my miniscule garden.
Who should get the axe?
Posted at 06:26 am by punkalicious
Monday, January 23, 2006
death by disappointment
You know what dear Will Shakespeare wrote,
"she sat like Patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief."
It is not the heart that grieves
But the heart that is disappointed.
Death by disappointment,
Seems almost like death by
appointment.
An appointment i foolishly made
One you didn't keep.
Farewell then, Disappointment.
I will never let you near
My heart enough to scald it
To wound it
To inflict it.
Farewell and goodbye.
I bid thee adieu.
Posted at 07:11 am by punkalicious
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
shuffling
The footsteps haunt me in my dreams. The clomp of soles, impact on the hard ground. The drag of the shoe, barely lifted from the marble and tiles. Is the foot so heavy, it weighs down like a dead weight? Why is it that the individual doesnt make use of his limb? Or the muscles and tendons in his knee to lift his foot so it does not shuffle? I cannot tolerate the incessant irritating shuffling - a sign of physical lackadesicality. I am not shallow nor am i easily irritated. I am just particular and in a very large way, fussy. Please do not shuffle your feet or drag your feet when you walk - it really really irritates the daylights out of me!!
Posted at 11:36 am by punkalicious
2.
TWO.
One and two.
Huddled under one
UMBRELLA.
One after another
The raindrops fall
Loudly and swiftly,
Yet invisible and
INAUDIBLE.
On two pairs of ears
Two heads
Oblivious to the rain.
Hands entwined
Heads inclined
Out of the RAIN.
Posted at 07:12 am by punkalicious
