Subject To Change

“Everything changes, nothing remains without change.” Buddha

Archive for the ‘Poetry’ Category

.My Words

with 5 comments

I posted earlier saying I won’t be posting my poetry anymore, BUT what I meant was in writing, as in, words.
I will however be posting them in other forms, audio or video.

I wrote something the other day before I left for Kandy, and I asked two fellow bloggers to record a reading of it. Both did, but I’m only allowed to post one of them, so here it is:

Pseud0random reading My Words (Click here if the audio player doesn’t work)

I won’t be able to post any covers since my brother broke the microphone, so the only way I can record stuff now is with either mine or my dad’s phone. Recording on mine sound shit, though. I either sound stoned or like I’m speaking from the grave. So I think I’ll try sneaking my dad’s phone.

This post will be updated as soon as I manage to record a poem of Pseud0random’s (:




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May 19, 2009 at 9:06 pm

.No More Poetry

with 8 comments

Yes, Jerry, you may celebrate.
I won’t be posting any of my poems here anymore.
That will be all.
Move along now.

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April 29, 2009 at 3:03 am

.What Do I Need?

with one comment

Who do I get it from?

Which question do I answer first
Does it even matter?

I seem confused, is what I’ve been told.
              Enjoy your life, you’re just a kid.
You need to talk to someone.
    Have you thought about counselling?
There’s nothing wrong with you.
    You don’t have to change.
Freak. Psycho.
                   You’re just different, that’s all.
         They don’t see you like I do.
Unique. Special. Gifted.
You’re just a kid, what’s bothering you?
                                                      Just a kid…
He is very talented
but needs to be constantly checked
to ensure he does not go astray.

Where am I heading?
Where will this take me?
Will you be there
Waiting to save me
Or will I never know
Who it is I need
Will time only show
What I need from you.

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April 26, 2009 at 12:13 am

.Ropes & Ladders

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Escapism. It can take place anywhere. From the carefully thought out lines of prose breaking off into free-flowing streams of poetry. As the rhymes and cries silently mute and subside. The well digs deeper into the fertile soil. Looking for water as the subject is drowned. Forgotten once more as the cries from below. And the mind loses grip of proverbial words.

Passive, I become to even my own thoughts. Anything that is read is a subject that is taught. Is it worth keeping up the fight when the struggle is within? We say we’re fighting enemies but where do we begin? Some mean good and some mean bad. Dictionaries are tools for the literary mad. Identity is a necessity and it needs to be known. But is it ever shown?

I have flown… digressing from the drifters and slipping into the unknown.. I create my own problems then ask others for solutions. I am most guilty of emotional pollution. Something is inherently wrong with this system. But who defines wrong? And who is the victim?

Questions, questions, questions. I’m all full of questions. But even with the answers, there itself lies the question. Where does trust lie and when does faith reason? Has the day of judgement passed? For this is my confession.

No longer does this blog serve a purpose. Or at least the one it had when I created it. I wanted anonymity, yet I let myself be found. I am not getting far by neither leaps nor bounds. Though I am always running, the ground was always moving. Does it make a difference which direction I face? How much is missed simply tying a shoe-lace? Do I keep strutting forward, or do I stop and ask directions? Maybe from a tour-guide or maybe a policeman. Any one is fine all – I need is direction. Just point me somewhere – I may soon learn my lesson.

nb: read a draft of this at the last Open Mic. It’s been two months since I wrote this, about time I posted it. I don’t care which version’s better. Just needed to put something out. So there.

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April 11, 2009 at 1:40 am

.Read Me

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Cara, a regular reader of this blog,  asked me to read one of her poems.
I looked for one that was in English. Found this and decided to do it.

I asked her to read one of mine. She’s German, so you might notice some slightly awkward pronunciations, but I like it. This is her reading my poem Noise.

She posted my reading on her blog, so it’s only fair that I do the same.
Thank you for reading.


nb: to those who follow on Google Reader, there’s two audioclips here you’re missing, might wanna click through (:

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April 2, 2009 at 8:57 pm

.Miss Interpret

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“Talk”, you say,
But my throat is gagged.
By what?
I wonder

“You talk”, I retort,
But we know who’s the audience here
“I’m here to talk to you”,
I’m glad, but it’s something I can’t do.

Am I at fault?
Who is to blame?
My tongue shrivels up as I hear your name.

I have spoken volumes, though,
you may not have understood.
Maybe with an ear to the ground,
You’d have heard the hooves.

Do you not understand
This simple metaphor
Or are you too blind to see?
Deaf to the cries from the underground
Numb to the crack of the whip

I am still here
You know, you can feel me
As much as you feel a distance
The door is always open

Where do you want me to lie?
In the darkness or in the light?
You say I have walked out the door
Why don’t you take a step out of yours?

We could both relish the sun
Wherever on Earth we’re spun
It’s only a matter of time
Be patient, the time will come.

Note: this poem is subject to change

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March 26, 2009 at 10:20 pm


with 3 comments

So what are we, you and I?
Warriors? Or are we voyeurs?
So we blog – are we unlike beggars?
All you “patriots” do nothing but parrot
And self-proclaimed pacifists, rather passive-fists

Unclench your fist – the one that’s raised in the air
Take down those flags you wave here and there
Let go – the soil that you rightfully claim
For it is their blood that’s split, all in your name

For God or for Country
For Love or for Pride
For Freedom or Power
Who are You to decide?

Who walks the front line?
Who stretches the thin?
Who etches in the sand
The battle that’s within?

Set aside the differences
And what do you see?
Or is your sight dependant
On telling in-between?

Is it all compare and contrast?
Or is it just cause and effect?
Are we all this nations children
Or the subject of neglect?

So do you fight for your future,
or cry of your past?
Do you live in the present?
Or hide behind a mask?

So when do we stand alone
before a higher force?
And when do we forget the norms
and head straight for the source?

Now I am working my way, from the sea to the rivers,
Meandering along the many streams and divisions,
’til in the end I reach the spring, where it all began
Only then to realize – none of this was planned

There is no divine
Only a very fine line
Between You and I

But who lies above
And who sits below?
Am I the denominator?
– am I Zero?

If You are the infinite
Then I am none
I will divide You
’til we are nothing
But One.



Thanks to TheWhackster for helping me edit (or “tweak”) this enough to post.
Really appreciate it. Please click on the link and give him some lovin’
Even if you didn’t like or understand the poem. (Jerry, that’s you).

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March 10, 2009 at 9:00 am