Our Waterfall

The ripples of a nation

are slowly being felt;

like water cascading

over rocks huge and pebbles small,

the streams are whispering

"Be ready for the great big fall..'

Photograph: Fire, Tires and Poverty by Vinnymack

Deliverance

the messenger has arrived,

he has brought tidings about our endings.

i watch my mother's face as it shatters

i watch the waves of the ocean by our door

as it crashes...

swift words take hours to sink in

as our minds relapse to the pains within

fragments of our lives lay scattered on the pavement

all beacuse of one solemn statement

picking up the very last pieces

i am preplexed by the audacity of God

what message does he seek to deliver?

with cruel intentions that paint him sinister

like pawns we sacrifice ourselves willingly

screaming 'Kamikaze is the way to be!'

the night is young as my ink bleeds into the sky

i will write till i sense morning has arrived

till daybreak etches itself onto my parchment, and dries..

Spoken Word: For I am a Poet, yes I am

"I dont understand while all these art people

gotta be so cliche, 

beign all gypsy and complaining when they dont get their way" 

So this is what i say...

you see i'm one of  those hippie kinds,

digging dreadlocks and those three bands

of green, yellow and red...

you cant come close to match the books i've read!

including the ones i've at least glanced at the covers..!

i dig those ladies with long flowy dresses,

burning incents in their rooms...

and playing bongo drums to set the mood...

i like sitting alone in random spots

trying hard to decipher codes and connect dots.

so i like people who think the same way

and who are able to hit the mark...

with.. every.. single.. dart..

i like lighting candles and watching the stars

but i'm not of of those that hang around empty bars,

nevertheless i've heard there are some deep souls there!

drinking their inner demons away while leaving their hearts to bear.

my heart goes out to the rebels fighting for freedom

whether from congo, tibet or the like the last Mohican.

those dudes and dudets who are over-zealous and expressive

pull at my heart strings when they get so pensive...

for i am a poet, yes i am...

i'm one of those artsy kinds that hangs native art on her walls

one of those people that rather talk about football, 

than actual play it!

i get high listening to incredible verses,

it takes me to my zone where i am nameless.

i am of those that nobodies lost in her own world,

thinking the world revolves around her,

and that she is the centre of the universe.

Predictably i believe in karma... and maybe also a lil bit of drama

and say things before i truly take time to think over them.

But i stongly believe that words are my weapons,

so dont come close or you might regret whatver happens.

I preach the "truth" to whoemever listens,

and i sing praises for rebels sticking it up to the man

for i am a poet, yes i am..!

so what if i'm cliche and do what is expected!

so what if i talk about myself, my pains and my life,

i dont see you coming up here and putting away your pride!

even if i may walk and talk and behave predictably,

even if recite poetry about that you've heard about so frequently...

i dont care!

for i am a poet yes i am..!

my shields are patterns of metaphors,

lines close together to confuse the predators...

my wings are of carefully sewn verses,

flying me higher and closer to the sun than Icarus...

for i am a poet thats what i am.

and i stick it up to the man.

~Competitive piece for October's KL Poetry Slam~

Spoken Word : Mr Bogeyman; An Irrational Fear

he looms within us 

slowly deciphering out mental state

he looms over us

slowly watching us eat from our dinner plates

then he looms before us

slowly waiting for us to make our big mistakes.

like a cunning shadow, he lingers close by

becoming clearer when the lights dim at night

you hardly notice him walking by

because he so deeply yearns to stay out of sight.

like a lone wolf, he hunts by himself

wandering the vast plains for his prey

to escape from his clutches, you have to know thyself

or best beware, and learn to pray.

he sits by the edge of darkness

and greets you when you attempt to cross a line

do not misjudge his faintness

or else you may loose wht is yours as is rightfully mine.

some of us try to run from him...

letting him impact our unimpactful lives,

he ties up our hands with all his lies,

and watches us suffer as we wait to die.

some of us try to hide from him...

under layers of fabricated stories,

we engulf ourselves in our handmade glories,

trying to create an illusion to confuse our worries.

you can run or you can hide

or you can look under the bed and say..'hi'

well thats what some of us do!

we confront him and embrace him and convert him into our lives, 

for in order for you to climb those mountains or even bake those pies,

you gotta under the bed and say 'hi'

Hi Mr.Bogeyman,

excuse me but you're tormenting my supposed-to-be greatlife,

i cannot go on living under your blood-stained knife,

so listen here, i now know i'm ready for that dive,

i'm ready for my biggest gamble and i shall throw my own dice.

i never knew fear till i so effortlessly knew you,

but it's my own fault because i never quite grew,

am tired of willingly letting your shadow cast it's own shadow over me,

so you see, i'm no longer letting that be.

its time we take this feud outside,

its just gonna be you and me and don't worry i'm not bringing any cavalry,

like  i said its just you and me.

straightening things out to how it should be.

So that day, i took him outside

and gave him a piece of my mind,

i said ....

look here, its time i left you behind,

this time i've made up my mind,

you are not to fool or temper with the signs

i'm letting you know i'm such a different kind.

see here, i have mountains to climb and polls to win,

i have places to go that i've never been,

i have things to do in this skin i'm in,

so am stopping you from letting yourself in.

I'm facing you now, because i'm ready

because i'm so awesomely rock steady,

and because i will no longer worry. 

So be gone Mr.Bogeyman,

my slot on this stage we call life may end at any time,

before that let me reach out and take what is rightfully mine,

my opportunities are more precious than any dimond mine

so be gone,you can no longer live inside my mind.

Photograph : Fear by razorbladereflection

~ This poem was written for the theme of 'Bogeyman',

 and recited at the October KL Poetry Slam~