I noticed something sad in your eyes lately.
A spark lost,
A dream blown away.
I wish I could tell you
"In the end everything works out,"
i cant promise you that
i have no idea what you're going through.
I would never force you
something you are not ready to share.
I would never force you to change who you are.
but something else
has forced you to change.
I can't find it in me to judge you
for the sudden cold shoulder
or the cynical attitude.
Since i can tell it's a defence
against whatever it is your hiding.
I cant pretend to understand you
We're all different.
I don't know
what's in your heart
or what caused it to be there.
You'll be able to tell me and say at the end
"But i'm better now.
I'm over it.
I'll be okay.
There's better out there."
And really mean it.
I could not leave you,
So i hope that
you don't mind
if I just stay
by your side
How hard it would be
to keep my thoughts to myself.
You just don't want to be reminded
Of your Deamons
I'll make you laugh
If i can
or distract you.
You know I can always distract you
with my gooffy run on sentences that make no sence at all.
I want to make you laugh.
I want to make you forget.
It's too great
And you feel torn up
Its too far deep
And too far out
for my reach to
with a couple of laughs.
I'll still be there for you.
Isn't that why you call me friend.
And I can't promise you that it'll hurt less.
But at least you won't be hurting alone. *
If I forget
to tell you
how much you mean
I'll tell you now.
You were there for me.
You didn't notice
I was on the border of tears but you made me laugh and smile.*
I want to return the favor
Because you mean that much to me.
I want to be there for you.
Everyone has their own daemons.
I've had mine.
Yours are greater than mine...
I can't know
Because I would never fully understand.
I am not you.
You don't deserve
to be hurt
All i can offer you is myself.
And even if I did tell you
all the right words
I still wouldn't be much
Tragic or not.
All I hope for is that
You realize I'm not
The only one
who would do this
There are so many
out there that
you've touched heart with
because of the way you are.
Luv ur invinsible
And if some
broke your heart
And you're only feeling sorry for yourself i'll punch you too.
I'll do anything just to make you smile again.
Perhaps its not much but i'll try and just know i'm here.
And in your heart.
No matter how corny it sounds
you know it.
Golden pulse grew on the shore,
Ferns along the hill,
And the red cliff roses bore
Bees to drink their fill;
Bees that from the meadows bring
Wine of melilot,
Honey-sups on golden wing
To the garden grot.
But to me, neglected flower,
Phaon will not see,
Passion brings no crowning hour,
Honey nor the bee.
First impression wasn't the best impression
Plays football and wears Under Armor.
First introduction wasn't a horrible introduction
High voice and still wears Under Armor
First laugh was the best laugh
Once jock turned best friend.
First game was a speechless game
Countless hills gave us multiple wins
Last goodbye was the worst goodbye
Infinite tears and speeches
My twin although we are complete opposites we are still brothers from North America back to Asia :)
the sadness of a single naked light bulb &
the sadness of accidentally touching the wires
the sadness of the strangest dream
where you kissed me and everyone knew
about it the next day and you also gave me
two packs of cigarettes
(I am exactly the length of your smoke break)
the sadness of not being able to sleep
& waking up when it's already dark
& a balanced ache in the vertebrae
from the weight of the flowers of the mind
the sadness of a pinprick not deep enough
to pierce the skin & the sadness of a knot
pushing its way through the fabric
until it irrevocably wins
(I'm all loose ends and frayed edges
now you're really something else)
the sadness of misheard lyrics & poetry
found in the back of your brain & the sadness
of a ladder with broken rungs
that reaches far too deep
the sadness of a pair of feet
a tad too big for your height
always ready to leave
the sadness of I haven't talked to you again
the sadness of a missed chance in every diachronic time
the sadness of not being able to speak
"Hey loverboy," she says. I don't respond.
A rough draft excerpt from my story, Fictional Truth.
“Hey loverboy,” she says. I don’t respond. I enjoy ignoring her for a moment after I come out of a day dream.
“Hey. Jake. Snap out of it boy. Time to come back to earth,” she says with her usual tone of pleased annoyance. This time I leave the world inside my head and return to reality. Slowly turning my head to the right, I can see those deep blue eyes gazing up. I never get tired of her eyes.
“Come on, you said you’d help me here.”
“Sorry,” I say with a half grin and my best attempt at contrition. I look down to the papers in her lap. Right, math. I was helping her with calculus. She was really very good at math. We were in the same class, but she was two years younger than me after skipping two grades in elementary school.
“This one you just take the derivative of your function and plug in these two values.” I can remember these things effortlessly now, which was a huge accomplishment for someone who doesn’t particularly like math.
“See, this is why I keep you around,” she says, those rosy lips that I so adored pulled into a little smirk. She reaches up and kisses me. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me. “You can go back to daydreaming now.” Indeed I do, retreating back to the dreamscape inside my head. This time I think back to when I met Clara.
I had just arrived on campus, a bright eyed college freshman. There I was, lost in a sea of more beautiful women than I had ever seen in my life. Small private schools had never been kind to me in that regard. Everything on campus was a wonder. Nobody from my high school had come here and I was very much alone, but I didn’t mind. I had outgrown most of my high school friends long ago. It was long past time for me to expand my horizons.
I found myself standing in front of a massive glass building. I wasn’t past checking my reflection in the glass windows. Had to make sure my hair still looked as good as it did when I arrived. Who knew when I might run into some attractive young lady? Opening the doors I caught a waft of the bookstore smell, unlike anything I expected. At home the bookstores were small, with dusty leather covers that begged to be handled and old people that smelled like coffee. This was completely different. The odor of panicked freshman and newly bound textbooks permeated the air. I decided right then I wouldn’t be spending much time there.
There was a long line extending towards the back of the building. Not knowing better, I assumed it was the line I was supposed to be in and slowly made my way to the rear. This would take forever. I pulled out my phone and started on another game of Angry Birds. I had been killing evil pigs for almost five minutes when I began to feel like I was being watched. Sure enough I glanced up to see a large pair of deep blue eyes looking at me.
“You know, some psychologists say that technology is making us less social,” said the girl looking up at me. I couldn’t respond. She had straight black hair pulled behind her in a long ponytail. She had a small, perfectly formed nose with what seemed like a sea of freckles on it. Even more freckles danced on her cheeks. She was several inches shorter than me, maybe 5’9” and had on tight jean shorts and a black tank top that exposed only the most tantalizing amount of cleavage.
“So I’m just starting to feel a little uncomfortable with you undressing me with your eyes like that,” she said with the smirk on her face that I would soon come to know.
“Sorry,” I said, a tiny grin tugging at the corner of my mouth, “You surprised me a bit.”
“I’m Clara. This is the point in conversation where you tell me your name.” I liked her already. She had confidence and wit that was both abrasive and attractive.
“I’m Jake, pleased to meet you.” Damn I was smooth. Almost as smooth as a wagon over rocks. “Are you a freshman too?”
“Yep. Just got here. I don’t think this line is moving.” I really liked the way little dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth even when she frowned slightly.
“It really doesn’t seem to be. At least I have pleasant company,” I said. Oh man I was so smooth! I was really proud of myself right there. It was hard flirting with such a beautiful girl. She seemed to throw me off balance.
“Well, that was the least offensive flirting I've heard all day,” she replied. Good gosh this girl was straightforward. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I might not have accepted that.” Cute. Okay, I could work with cute. “So you’re in psychology 1000?” she asked.
“Nope, I took that during high school.” I replied. Why would she ask that?
“Well, you’re standing in the psychology book pickup line.” She said with a slightly puzzled look on her face. I definitely was not in psychology.
“Oh, Psychology! I, uh, I thought you said, uh, philanthropy. Nope, I’m definitely in the right line. Okay, that was a lie and I was at least 100% sure philanthropy was not a class. But hey, I was under pressure and I needed an excuse to keep talking to this girl. She looked at me like I was slightly on drugs but moved on without hesitation.
We talked about various meaningless things while the line crept closer to the back of the store. I was constantly mesmerized by the deep blue in her eyes. I had always been attracted to blue eyes for some reason. When we got to the pickup window, she paid for her book and stepped to the side, watching me. I decided to bow out of buying a several hundred dollar book just so I didn't look like a complete idiot. I comforted myself with the fact that she might think it was funny.
“Soooo. I’m not really in philanthropy. Or psychology. I just didn't want to stop talking to you just yet.” I said with a sheepish grin. Luckily for me, she laughed right there.
“Alright then Mr. Jake, what books do you really need? Maybe we can go stand in line again.” I listed off several books that I needed for classes.
“Calculus. I need that one as well. Come on silly.” She turned her back and started walking. I followed right on her heels, a goofy grin plastered all over my face.
That was my first interaction with Clara. We spent the next two hours gathering all of our books, and at the end I carried her rather large pile back to her dorm room. I was promptly rewarded with her phone number and some cookies that her mom had packed. Normally I’m very pleased by cookies, but the phone number was worth so much more.
“Hey. What about this one?” Clara’s voice comes from beside me. I lean over to look at the paper again.
“This time just take the antiderivative of cosine and solve for x.”
“Oh right. That's the last one.”
“What do you want to do now?” I ask.
“How about we go to your room and see if we can make your roommate uncomfortable enough to leave?” She says with a mischievous grin, bringing those deep blue eyes nearer to mine. She always seems to find an excuse to kiss me.
Impossible to grasp the concept,
For the people today cannot seem to accept,
Reconciliation is the path to the righteous way,
& retribution instigates violence & only dismay,
The world is filled with grief & woe,
The sorrow of the people is entertainment ; a show,
Though all this pain exist,there is something strange,
People get up to watch,but never to make a change...
Learning to write letter "B"
my little son tries, I curiously see
to get in to its spirit so abstract
through its concrete form,
by finding an analogy-
he could relate well and not forgotten easily.
more like a bee using wax to make a shape it likes
and then seeing it as the hive he wanted to make,
watching him I think, as his cute hands draw
the twin swells forward, with such interest,
eyes for a moment glint, as if to say" yes,I get it"
"Look dad, isn't it just like milk?" he exclaims!
I know 'milk' is the word he associates
with the source of milk, from the days he was breastfed,
"B'with its shape fits the bill, to be treated with love
"B" he finds reminds him the milk of mother's love.