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Traveler Feb 2014
Running from the thunder
Hiding in the trees
Superstitious people
Your will is hardly free
Casting the unlikeliness
Of a loving killing god
Stolen from the pagans
By a crucifying mob

It's time to wake up
WAKE UP

Worshipped on the mountain
Forsaken down below
Superstitious people
Fearing for their soul
Casting their inventions
Making holy war
Pretending not to notice
The ****** killing floor

It's time to wake up
WAKE UP

TWM


ANOTHER SONG I WROTE
IN MY OLD BAND
HEAVY ALTERNATIVE
Sound like
Godsmack meets tool
Traveler Tim
re to 1-18
SH Dec 2011
queer creature of white stone:
the spirit of the island in the head of this lion,
the soul of the natives in the body of this fish,
spirit and soul, lion and fish, mingle together by
mere wry humour of evolution’s word

we revere this beast, (it watches over us
from nine metres above), we bow down our backs,
(worship it as our exemplar): for many of us,
unknowingly, we emulate the spirit and soul
of this queer white creation of stone.

standing tall (unshaken!) even as jaundice bolts of heaven’s
creep tip-toed behind its scales and strike:
its cemented steadfastness of stone we emulate,
for through the towering grey waves of crisis, and
the threatening dark clouds that foretell our very fears,
we too, have floated and transcended and appeared
unscathed.

mutated monster – child of bad genes,
they despise such unfavourable antagonistic features
(shall it rule like a lion or flail like a fish?):
its unlikeliness of surviving, of thriving we emulate:
for this dotted smudge of red pen ink on the globe,
destined to bow down to fate – bowed down not, and
flourished.

beams of white water spouting out in a
perfect shape of a quadrant’s circumference, endlessly,
its majestic spewing action we emulate:
this island of expectations, sterile smell of success,
fate of our future in the setting of an exam hall,
(in there do you not think we resemble the merlion,
our mouths the hoses, the papers our well?)

but, oh, the merlion – so many of it –
the merlions, same-maned, same-scaled,
fluttering and bursting with imitation across our home:
such congruity, conformity we emulate:
for years of yearning to swim in the mainstream waters,
of being goldfish, instead of losing the waters for flight like flying fish,
have made us very much, about
the same.

queer creature of white stone:
do you see not how we resemble your very self,
how we offer you praise (by
lifting our human arms, arching on our mere knees,
hoisting our lowly mortal heads, surveying your colossal royalty,
camera in hand)?
I tried as wittily as possible to draw comparisons to reveal how one of our national icons are eerily reflective of the Singapore culture in many ways. This touristy icon almost seemed pre-planned to capture the essence of what Singapore is.
Janine Jacobs Jun 2016
i love the way we met
unbeknownst our paths aligned
and a mutual understanding was formed

it’s true that the best alliances are the ones
you never saw coming
i’m not quite sure what we are
perhaps just two people that chat

i really think we can be more than friends
you are someone
I would start a really small gang with
you can by my person
i’ll have your back

the pinch of daring I need
like tabasco and tequila chicken wings
beautiful in its unlikeliness
Mos Feb 2017
Hidden
power
does not
keep
quiet
when
grief and sorrow
reveal
danger.
a blackout poem
Jessica Jarvis Jul 2018
“They are the lucky ones.”
Since when does lucky spawn from unlikely?
How can my heart flutter
while my head, says “don’t bother.”?
The sun still shines
while I can’t understand its light.
It’s captivating,
exhilarating.
I’m wrapped up in your laugh
and immersed in your eyes
and charmed by your grin
and blessed by your chivalry.
I’m in love with the unlikeliness of you,
the unlikeliness of us,
the odds of our opportunity,
that spontaneity,
that loyalty,
the utter selflessness and gumption
of you in our calls
I love it all.
"Unlikely" didn't have to mean "impossible".
It’s because of this that I think we’ve earned being
“the lucky ones.”
6/28/18

Wrote this just to write... That’s how this works sometimes, right? Maybe.
Jo Fo Apr 2013
It was only when I held it in my hands. When I folded it gently between my palms, in wonder at the shocking lightness of it. When I held it up to my nose and looked cross-eyed at its insides. It was only then that I saw the perfect intricacies of it. It was only when I pried it open. When I traced the spidery web of it, in awe of the fragile unlikeliness of it. When I tugged at the tenuous knots of it.

When I tore it, ripped and stabbed, burned and bled it dry, When I hung it on a meat hook. I realized the luck of it all. Meeting you

But now its a different luck.  It’s My fault again.

Oh god the sweetness of blame.

So Sick of poetic *******, If I have something to say i’m gonna say it. ***** Shakespeare and Brand New and Death Cab. Tonight it’s ACDC
Mayank Jain Feb 2014
Am on the verge of it,
just behind the darkness
far ahead of the truth of my being
I lie here, alone.

Unlikeliness surrounds the soul
as I wake up
to see the light
that shines bright
into my eyes..
telling some lies.

Gazing around,
I try to find..
Those unknown faces,
A regretful smile..
illusion of the reality..
collusion of dreams..
Life is no more,
But light from beams..

I am entrapped.
in a small dark box
or free in an infinite world?
sarah May 2017
you haven't always been this way. you haven't always dreamt of death, or thought of a million ways that someone could die. you haven't always longed for death's sweet embrace or packed your clothes into every suitcase, without a clear destination. remember the time your dreams had died, asphyxiated by their unlikeliness and lack of pride? remember when you heard you could do anything, as long as you tried? tell me about the night your ex-lover left, without a trace, and your heart swelled as you longed for their gentle embrace. tell me about all the times you thought of leaving, but couldn't, because you can't escape what's in your mind. tell me about your thoughts, the ever-unpleasant trojans in your head, taking your dreams and striking them dead. tell me about your obsession with the night sky. is it because you can't see destruction in the dark, or because that was the only time you felt truly high? tell me about the night you lied awake with tears in your eyes drowning your dreams and little white lies. tell me about the time you destroyed yourself and picked up the pieces to rebuild someone else. tell me about the lies you spoke and how each one felt like a dagger down your throat. somehow you always have three words flitting from your tongue, you're not afraid to say them, you're only afraid of what's to come, so, tell me about the pills, and how when you popped one in, the world popped out of focus. tell me why you always set an alarm, is it because you're afraid that one day, you're never going to wake up? tell me, do you even want to wake up?
Traveler Jan 2018
Running from the thunder
Hiding in the trees
Superstitious people
Your will is hardly free
Casting the unlikeliness
Of a loving killing god
Stolen from the pagans
By a crucifying mob

It's time to wake up
WAKE UP

Worshipped on the mountain
Forsaken down below
Superstitious people
Fearing for their soul
Casting their inventions
Making holy war
Pretending not to notice
The ****** killing floor

It's time to wake up
WAKE UP
Traveler Tim

2004

ANOTHER SONG I WROTE
IN MY OLD BAND
HEAVY ALTERNATIVE
Sound like
Godsmack meets tool
Traveler Tim
aL Feb 2019
Life, the nightmare that never ends
forever will be in this desolation
fiends turned to friends
but it's an unlikeliness of damnation
Brother Jimmy Aug 2017
The fact
That we exist at all
Is mind blowing!

What is this unlikely experience we creatures of earth are having?

Consciousness  is  miraculous.

  The seeming unlikeliness of something
Obviously doesn't eliminate the truth of it


Open your eyes and imbibe!
Look where we are!  Observe that we are!

We are here!

On the outer edge of the milky way
In conditions perfectly balanced
To support our continued existence

What striking synchronicities!

— The End —