A Compilation of Poems (and some Prose) written in 2004
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Hi there, I'm new here and chanced upon this forum. I enjoy reading and writing poetry and frequently blog them down. Sometimes I write some prose as well. The poetry and prose here are all parts of my personal experiences and record emotions, thoughts and events that happened in my life last year. They can be divided into a couple of categories, and perhaps you can piece parts of my life story in 2004 together if you take the time to read through the compilation.
A couple of poems have esoteric references and styles which you might not be able to grasp. I apologize for such events.
Poetry
Stepping in the Puddles...of past regret and sorrows...
The rain falls,
The rain falls,
The rain pours.
The lonely traveller treks on the road
Like a train,
Doomed to its tracks.
Alone, one-way.
There is no sun no shadow no ending.
The rain falls,
The rain falls,
The rain halts.
Lonely puddles reflecting the rainbow.
There is a shadow now; there is a hope.
Colours in life,
Pot of gold.
The Lighthouse
There was a child
Whose life
Was grown in rife.
Deriving warmth only
From Blood in Veins
Which chained him like Reins.
People found just ice
In him but he could
Find Nothing.
Then came a searing Flame
Which melt the Ice
And Body purified.
People found in him
Beacon of Light.
Still the boy found Nothing.
Run, row, ride
He cannot
Fight.
The Tide of Fate
Will not abate,
Cannot be sate.
Lamentation: of God after Dinner
My tongue it hurts O so much I feele,
Sometimes bitter, acrid, pungent but never sweet
As thy life slides downe myne gut;
What was Ambrosia is now rot
Which my belly-worlde, in it gall burne
And you harbinger of sin, decay and
Addiction, as Innocence is lulled to you;
Rat to poison, moth to fire,
Why thence dost thou tremble when thou bringst
Quaking to the now gall'ess worlde
Which desires salvation through doome;
You indictment of Hope and Messiah of the deluded Despaired,
Make my gullible worlde I created, wave of fooles,
To put false faith and terrible trust leading to
Them temulent, always blind;
And you my childe-creation so effective
That I too sometimes fail
To detect thy Potency
Which through age brings life,
And I realize that thou is not
Created from hapless bunch of grapes,
But from the fallen Nine Sunnes.
*The fallen Nine Sunnes refers to the Chinese legend of skilled archer Hou Yi, who shot down 9 out of the 10 suns from the sky. The 10 suns were tyrannical as they rose together, causing suffering to the commoners as they produced tremendous amounts of heat.*
Monologue on Friendship: among Me, Myself and I
Friendship is a strange thing.
It can bring you up and down
With effects so profound
Which can soothe or singe.
So then why do some have Lady Luck
To have the better side
With friends so bona fide
While mine merely make my life fuck?
I think I know the answer,
"Friendship is like a coin, a nickel.
I'm just plain unlucky that luck has been a monster
To me, like Grim Reaper and his sickle."
And on my death I am awake
And in my folly I realize
Friendship is not a bloody dice;
It is neither luck nor fate.
Satan came and said to me,
"Friendship is a foolish trade,
For vain love you pay with wretched pain.
So why then do you pay the fee?"
I smiled to the Devil and shook his hands.
Maybe we could be friends!
But God descended and he sighed,
"Do not listen to Lucifer's lies."
"For every pain you labor
To give your friends the Joy,
You must remember that true friends
Also suffer to return the favor."
Suddenly I'm left alone,
In a strange but familiar zone
Where I can hear Cerebus barking,
And Saint Peter's plaintive calling.
I sat down pondering which path to take.
Not knowing where to go,
Not knowing what to do
For God and Satan both seemed fake.
Is this treason
Against my religion?
No it's not.
It's reason
For my Zion.
Fragile! Handle with Care! Do not Break!
Serene is the trust I have
In the mirror which holds my dream
Intact.
Blasted and broken now is the mirror
That used to hold my trust
Pristine.
Plastered, cracked and fragmented;
The trust within is slowly
Leaking.
Shards of sharp smithereens
So abrasive like stainless steel sabres
Slashing.
Try as you may
To fix it back,
The mirror is imperfect.
Each piece of glass
Is a broken faith
Reflecting countless a mocking face.
The truth hurts:
That the fatal thrust that shattered the glass
Was fuelled only by my Over-trust. -
One-Winged Angel: Flying without Wings
Lucifer with two Silvery Wings
Came on swift Winds
To a little prison cell,
Where God dwell'd.
He laughed.
God binded by three shackles,
Himself, his Son, the Holy Ghost;
Lucifer cackles
As all is lost.
He ravished the Virgin Mother.
This is doomsday;
No moonlight, no sunray.
Not eternal darkness, not infinite light;
On-going is a transcendant fight.
He is of no-concern.
Oh Wingless Angel you sorry sod;
Lucifer who sought the freedom that Power brings,
Don't you see that to take flight from God
You must first lose you angelic raiment: both Wings?
He is Imbecile's incarnate.
Flying without wings
Or so he thinks.
Halt Lucifer you stupid lout;
Please wait before you bail out!
He freezes.
Flying?
I say falling.
Soaring?
I say boring.
He lost his wings.
Then I turn to look at my fetters.
How high can I fly with just one wing?
Height doesn't really matter
When I'm trapped in a labyrinth.
God smirks.
I am the omnipotent One-Winged Angel.
True darkness from true darkness.
Power over Lucifer the Falling Angel,
Who in turn has power over God now in a hearse.
God dies.
Flying without wings?
I have one;
I'm in between.
Reply to Wen Si
God is everything,
You wouldn't want to take him for a fling.
And I say that when you know you are burning
You prove that you aren't crazy.
You are aware while the demented have no knowing;
You're just lazy,
You lack life's craving!
And dreams hold hopes of all things unseen,
Don't call it stupid, it's mean!
Perhaps you should really live that dream,
Kick that chair, shout and scream.
Do we really care?
Tis' common behaviour not even rare!
The Rack has been gone for a long time,
Smashed, wrangled and lays covered in grime.
I don't see why you picked it up,
And polished it with a scrub.
There are better ways to live life in,
Than constrained by a metal din.
Need a break?
Kit Kat only, don't get the fakes!
Don't want to crack?
I think happiness is what you lack.
P.S. It's a wonderful tool
Not sure why you haven't realized it yet
You fool.
Covers all cracks in walls up with a splat!
You don't need help,
You don't need rest.
But if you insist I shall suggest:
Only you can help yourself you little whelp.
Ultimately it's only you and yourself in this slugfest.
Have trust and have faith,
Remember to give Him some praise!
And before you repeat
"SCREW EVERYTHING!"
Please see all the above.
Maybe you'll find your love
For Living.
(I know it's no mean feat...)
*This was a poem done in reply to my ex's poem...pardon for personal references which you can comprehend*
Unfinished Drama...Anticlimax
Life without love
Free like a dove.
There's peace in the sky;
Lift your wings and let us fly.
But let's get back to reality.
It comes crashing down on me.
I wish I was not in love;
It's a fatality.
Alas, injurious love has shot me.
Cupid the (not-so) lovely deitie.
Oh, with love on it's tip;
No different from poisons which kill slowly.
Maybe this is what love is:
A seething venom that tests
Not about how long you can go without it,
But about how long it takes for you to die from it.
Love's labyrinth can come crashing down,
But because I have you here with me,
I'm safe and sound (or so I hope to think);
God, please help me!
Scrambling towards the exit door,
Tightly hugging you as I run across the crumbling floor.
The dastardly door has a lock,
Every second's ticking by on the clock!
My insides writhe from the love-toxin
While my environment is reducing to nothing.
But even a miracle elixir is no antidote
And that door is probably no escape.
Seconds left,
Before an unsightly death.
Adrenaline pumping,
Damn parents are grumbling.
Howabout an anticlimax?
I'll give you one!
To be continued...
Awww...do you hear the disappointed sighs?
Sighs of the bystanders who so dearly want
A proper ending?
Or can you hear the screaming elation,
From some grown-ups who frown on our relation?
P.S. You know what baby?
I'm not sure if I can end this poem properly.
Simply cause' I don't know the answer.
Really... -
Originally posted by Alexander_Jude
Just Right There: Do you Remember and would you Care?
[Boy]
My mind's racing with a thunderous roar
To seek for the girl who shared my passion
But I come down crashing, sprawled to the floor:
This seems like an impossible mission.
And I search high and low,
Through tall grasses, lush meadows and everlasting hills,
I follow the stream and go along the flow:
This task has only one target; no frills.
[Girl]
I've lost you once,
I won't lose you twice,
First time it happened
T'was so fast,
Second time it happened,
Made me kneelin'
And now I'm here,
Cause' I regret.
I know you're searching,
I can't stop hoping.
I can hear your voice,
But can't see your face.
It's a torture.
It's all in my mind?
Maybe, but for you
I still pine.
I feel so troubled now.
I want to search for you but
I can't seem to muster the strength to.
You would forgive me wouldn't you?
You would still want me back by your side?
I guess I can only dream and fantasize;
I guess I can only wait and see.
You swore to me once that our love would last.
You reminded me in my weakness to stand firm.
You told me not to give up hope and to go on strong.
I wish for a genie or a faerie-godmother:
I would use all three wishes to bring you back.
I want to right all wrongs.
Together, forever.
[Boy]
The quest to find my lost love
Seems to come to naught.
I cry in despair to all great Gods above:
Why must you, I besot?
Maybe you are not even waiting.
But that's a foolish thought.
I know I should keep on finding:
Treasures like you would not be so easily sought.
[Girl]
I'm crushed by time, just by waiting.
[Boy]
(Just by finding...)
[Girl]
Didn't I say that I would be there?
Could you have forgotten?
[Both]
No, you wouldn't, you couldn't...
[Girl]
I try to make believe that you are here.
I try to think of you but it's not real.
I want to call you but vicious winds scream.
I want to run but forceful chains bind my feet.
But the winds belong to my mind,
And the chains my guilt.
[Boy]
Heart pierced and Blood flowing,
Drowned in my own putrid river of Pain and Pity.
Heart-wrecked, chaos reigns:
Where is my Dearest Darling hiding?
A kaleidoscope of many memories,
Of the happy times we shared together and
Of the magical places that we used to be:
Could you be there?!
[Both]
No I won't give up
And I won't let go.
I won't let my world
Come crashing down on me.
[Boy]
You'll be waiting.
[Girl]
You'll be searching.
[Both]
And for the last time we'll be together.
[Boy]
I run towards the fields
Where we first met in our dreams.
The place where we made our promises,
The day before we sinned.
[Both]
And then I see you!
Am I dreaming?
I won't lose you baby.
Not this time.
It was my fault,
I was totally wrong.
Will you be my love?
Yes I would!
[Girl]
I was just right there,
Where were you?
[Boy]
Don't ask cause' I don't know.
But it's enough that I have found you.
I was love's fool:
I'll give you my love and you just give me your care.
Why?
Roaming aimlessly
I come across
A rocky plain covered by
A lonely night sky.
Why?
I think I'm lost
And I need a place to
Cry. (For myself? To myself? To whom else?)
I find a rock
To rest on;
An especially sharp one
In hopes of jolting my mind.
Why?
I think I'm tired
And I need to a place to
Lie. (For myself? To myself? To whom else?)
Tonight I swear to everything else
(Myself am not worth it anymore),
As I lay my head to rest,
That this is merely a test.
Why?
I think I'm dumb
And I need a place to
Sigh. (For myself? To myself? To whom else?)
I will not shed a tear.
Nor will I show fear.
I want to run
And leave everything behind.
Why?
I think I'm trapped
And I need a place to
Fly. (For myself? To myself? To whom else?)
I can't wait any longer
For the sunrise.
I think I'll do it now,
And here.
Why?
I think I'm suicidal
And I need a place to
Die. (For myself? To myself? To whom else?)
Why can't I cry?
Why can't I lie?
Why can't I sigh?
Why can't I fly?
Why can't I wait?
But I think there's something I can do;
I think I can die.
Why? -
Tribute to my Brother: Water is thicker than Blood
Water is thicker than blood!
Don't laugh! Don't scream and shout.
Just hear me out!
The wise men of the past are outdated;
Here I am to herald a new relationship.
Look at Genesis when God started.
Even before light and dark divided
The world was a watery wasteland.
Water water everywhere; unseparated.
Before the beasts and birds roamed, before man came,
Before blood.
The Atlantic, The Pacific, The Indian, The Arctic and The Southern,
All bodies of water so immense and large.
Unfathomable deep seas which are
Mysterious, bottomless and lovely;
What can match their purity?
So now, let me pose you some challenges,
To convince you of my theory.
Find me a body of blood that can match the depth of the oceans.
You cannot.
Find me an artery that can match a geyser from the earth.
You will not.
Find me a vein that flows smoothly like a shining stream which breeds serenity.
You shall not.
Prove to me that blood holds more life than the marine seas.
Impossible.
Who says that parentage determines kinship?
The ignorant.
Who says that history determines future?
The obstinate.
Who says that blood determines closeness?
The unfortunate.
Who says that blood determines love?
The retarded.
Brothers we are,
Not bonded by blood
But by love; we can make
Blood-ties looks weak.
We can forge our own blood:
Crystal clear and sparkling bright.
*To make the poem more clear for readers, I shall clarify that the poems on brotherhood all refer to a god-brother...*
I would Love You to Try
Stand yards apart and strike a metal rail.
I'll feel your thunderous call; the plaintive vibration from miles away.
Try please,
I want you to know.
Although the rocks on the shoreline do not budge when the waves crash.
Check and see if they have been smoothen; it'll eventually yield.
Try please,
I want you to know.
Turn back time and walk by me again.
Believe in love at first sight it never fails.
Try please,
I want you to know.
People say that infatuation is about lust which never lasts.
I agree; but this is not how I feel right now about you.
Try please,
I want you to know.
Cliche romances happen in the cover of the night;
Under the silver hue of the glowing moon
And with the assistance of the starry sky.
But my love story begins when it is daylight;
With the rising sun like a golden spoon
Ladling up my love for you- heaps of clouds which soar and fly.
I know you might never respond;
I can only dream (last night was the sweetest I had of you).
But surely I deserve an answer
To save me from my emotional trauma.
Before I rest my case (please know that I can never rest well without you),
I want you to know that I love you.
There's an invisible rail segregating us.
There's a sea and shore separating us.
There's cruel time which stops us.
There's infatuation which scares us.
But did you try?
I want to know -
Originally posted by Alexander_Jude
Take my Hand
Suicide can be the best thing in life-
It's like reaching the destination early.
Why wait impatiently for time to dive
When you can bring yourself there surely?
Dying isn't fearful; we all end there.
It's the transition between living and dead;
Between the walking and the laid.
It's a happy medium so just and fair.
Death is a great leveller that I agree.
Plows through all pain,
Mows down all names;
Done so effortlessly without a fee.
Suicide, Dying, Death- Please do not be mistaken
That they are alluring.
It's what's in between (birth and death) that compels the forsaken
To take the shorter path and be daring.
Let me let you in on a secret
If you don't want to live a lifetime of regret,
Just do what's right and end your life now.
Lots of ways: You can climb up and fly down.
Maybe that's not preferable, so you could try pills.
But please do remember to take them to your fill
If you do not want paramedics to pump them out.
Alternatively you can hang yourself- makes you dumb so you can't shout.
Or you can slit some major vessel
But the bloody mess it makes is a hassle.
If you feel hurt by his actions
And you feel guilty that you couldn't do anything,
Then let me offer you a solution-
Just take my hand and fly with me.
Maybe life in death will be better,
As we cross the worlds and breach the realms;
When and where nothing else matters.
To all out there who care for me,
Please do not bother with a funeral.
If I didn't care about my mortal body
And if I left behind my shell callously,
Then why should you bother with it?
What life is there left to live if one is dead?
Why try to make me happy with a grand procession
When nobody tried in my lifetime of perpetual depression?
My Dreams
Before I dream I cry myself to sleep.
Then I dream of life, love and cruelty.
In my dreams my friends are always sweet
Like the candies which I fancy.
I start by peeling their wrappers off,
Then I suck; they disappear slowly.
Those who claim to be my kin are suffocating smog.
Blinding me, covering me, choking me;
Slithering towards me
Slowly,
Softly,
Sweetly,
Sadly they kill me.
Aspirations, hopes and expectations;
They all come crashing down on me.
I swear to you that I'll work
But at my own pace and in my own path.
Sometimes I think the people in my dream are deaf,
Sometimes I think maybe I'm dumb and cannot speak.
And then I wake up in cold sweat and into another dream.
The dreaming becomes a recurring nightmare.
But with Logic as my sword
And Reason as my shield
I swath a path through nothingness,
With full awareness
That the only way to live a dream is to wake up first.
Down
ephemeral is a good adjective to describe all things that are good
which come to an end because time flies when we are having fun
so much so fast that two months half seemed like two days plus
yet when i look back at our ten weeks spent together as blood
brothers it felt like ten years which was peppered with tears
salted with fears dashed with some joys spiced with a pinch
of hope sprinkled with some vinegar and garnished with
god's love before it was served to you and i threw
away the dish we made together because we did
not cherish the good flavors it gave and we
could not value the bitter sour after taste
and then i try to call out but no voice
comes and you try to listen to me
but hear no sound and our hearts
want to talk this one out but our
words are lost and cannot be
found so easily we get a
communication
breakdown
and then
all falls
down.
Looking at the Clock
I look at the clock and there's twelve hours more
Before I meet Barry your brother-in-law.
I don't know if you'll be there or if others be with him.
It could be a trap but I doubt so; the chances are slim.
I thank you for the three months that we had
For it was lots of happiness albeit sometimes sad.
(More happy times than sad I hope,
But that's really a non-issue now since we both can't cope.)
I admit I was a fool and played with you around
But I swear it was pure candour with no ill intent.
You're no saint too-you took me for granted and I could make no sound.
Still I'll vouch for you it was your claimed (feigned?) amnesia; no further comments.
Confession: Indeed there was once when I let you down
On the fateful 14th August 2004; (how bitter over a light we fought).
You ignored me so much that I lost my sanity and it could not be found
So I placed your secrets that you entrusted me with on your tagboard.
Now it's all over and I pity it had to end this way.
You ran and you didn't want to talk; nobody had the last say.
Whichever or whatever the case I thank you for the memory
Of you who will be my favourite oldtime story-
Brothers from different mothers,
Brothers we never had,
Brothers forever-
Now it seems so empty as they all fall flat.
Before I take my book and hundred-and-fifty back,
I regret that we never agreed
On a proper title deed.
Time's Up.
*Barry is my god-brother's brother-in-law*
Locomotion
Silent night,
Unholy sight
To see a jet-black bus
Cruising down the meandering
Road to Lethe.
Un-eneding fight,
Trying with all might
To escape from the bus
Relentlessly rampaging towards
The end
Of all memories,
Akin to the foolish Pharisees
Who offer lip-service
And forgetting their truth
And their past
Which never catches up
(Contrary to popular believe)
As this bus tramples
Too fast forward
Abreast with time.
Off! Off!
I want to alight!
The rest of you
Can be damned
And stay on
And ignore the cries
Of old secrets, injustice
And hurt while
I seek enlightenment
By digging the dead
Out of the dome-shaped
Chinese tombs covered
In grey, soft soil
And scouring the bones
In the sands of time.
Time heals all wounds
(But it will not make you perfect
Unless you hop off and try again
To right the wrongs and be brave
And face the past)
Only for those who do not
Hop off this bus to Lethe.
But this bus is
A Beast
Which cannot be
Restrained and it is
A rootless tree
Doomed to quick death
And there will be
No rebirth for the fateful
Inhabitants, Passengers or Gastric Remnants
When it crashes
Becase they will be
Unable to stem back
To their former selfs.
Oh pathetic!
You have no shadow!
I can see the rising sun
And I pray fervently that
It will vaporize me as it
Evaporates the well-strung
Beads of crystal laced
On my hopeful face for
Eighteen long years
In joyful anticipation
Of the transcendental.
Oh Charon! I wish to see your pretty face!
Rev your engine and move your bus.
I condense upon it.
My future is my past
And I'm bound for Styx. -
Originally posted by Alexander_Jude
The Nightmare
I stare at you and you glare back at me.
I close my eyes but I still see
The haunting visage of those black
Squiggles, curls, dots and dashes
Punctuated with lines, curves and more dots
As I try to assemble my thoughts.
That's right
I wanna fight,
YOU!
Damned rectangular piece of punishing pulp,
If only you would disappear
Or rip yourself into a million shreds
And fly into the wind and oblivion
While I grin with glee
At the authorities who torment me.
Such a bitch
That ought to be ditched,
YOU!
Framed into four corners, sides and walls,
(Yes, I'd like to blackmail you and watch your fall)
Logarithms, algorithms and rheumatisms,
(You idiot, the last answer is wrong!)
I marvel at the power that you hold
That can send stressed students into your fold.
This sucks
I know I'm fucked,
YOU!
Screw the monster made of paper and ink!
Lay waste(basket) to it before its fangs sink!
Off with the waste of time better spent!
On with the things of better meanings!
Nightmare which sends death to deviants?
Ha! Make me your humble servant.
You're right that
I wanna fight
This bitch
That should be ditched
Because it sucks
And should be fucked
The Prelims.
Science of Immortality
When you die there's only Death
With scythe in hand to glean the truth
From corpses garnered in life's abuse.
Souls held by His arm and binded in stasis
Their soundless screams will not allow release.
And He sits all alone accompanied by statues
Which stare longingly for a soul to be infused.
You bring your secrets to the grave
And He brings you (and your secrets) into his embrace.
It's often easy to die but not easy to face Death.
But Death dreads us more than we dread Him.
You died with one unsolved problem, maybe two.
And he keeps it for you because he has a job to do.
Now you do the maths and you count
The others who joined you in His grip
Since the birth of Death.
He wrestles with the luggage that we brought.
At least we get to die,
He cannot.
Afterall who will claim Death as his own?
Who will want to create problems for themselves
By taking the burden of Death?
Wait.
"Create problems for themselves."
Maybe this is why our sciences seek immortality-
We are eligible candidates to claim Death.
Prose
I don't really have a compilation of prose. I generally pen my thoughts down in my blog in incoherent but meaningful manners. Unfortunately, the don't really constitute as prose. Nonetheless, here are 2 pieces of prose which I found decent enough to be displayed.
Misery stems from my mother. She seems to nurture it dutifully, allowing it to sprout and take root on firmer grounds. She flits around my life like a light-footed snake; oh she is a special serpent (more special than the one found in the Garden), she has two feet where others have none. Come hither, dear friends and let us explore these chasmal jaws which house the tenacious fangs (blest with the ability to regenerate) which produce (like clock-work) more than just surplus toxin, but also enough malice, spite and bitterness that would make a nefarious malador of contempt towards my mortality. There is no antivenin for this venom. I could imagine how scientists tremble at the potency of this vile creature and its medical and scientific significance. But looking in retrospect, scientists would never have dreamt that such a beast could ever have walked this earth. She is the stuff of nightmares. Afterall, science only deals with the empirical and rules out the paranormal.
*This was just a little extract I wrote after a big fight*
Suddenly feeling disgusted at the state of the cathedral, he went back towards his bed, in hopes of looking for comfort and perhaps even shelter from the disease called age which plagued the entire structure. He found none as he found himself staring at his rectangular bed framed by four fragile-looking bedposts mirroring the rectangular hole on the brickwall besides his bed. It was framed by four other bricks, anxious to follow in the footsteps of their missing consort; rest was no longer comforting to him. He shifted his attention back to the cold sky which was shut and wished that its doors would yield to the rain once more and open. He did not want to see the diseased gargoyles nor the ailing structure. The rain could blind him temporarily from all that. More rain would not make a difference to how fast the cathedral sunk into the soft mud; the monolithic structure was crushing itself down by its own weight, contributed by time, desire and the moss. The rain would not obey his wish, neither would the dream of a spire. So he closed his eyes, blinding himself from what he chose not to see.
He saw himself preaching, high up and speaking from the pulpit. But he was not in any of the churches in the city. He was up in the spire, a new spire which shone with lustre. A spire where the wood was varnished till it glowed like luminous marble and where the marble dazzled to mirror his reflection. The bricks were unadulterated of the lecherous lichens and moss and the gargoyles for once, actually looked healthy and happy despite their task of eternal damnation to safeguard this marvellous structure. His sermon echoed down the spire, just as the spire echoed perfection down to its foundation. Yet, there was something not quite right about the entire affair. It was peculiarly quiet, lacking the familiar ambience of a disgruntled yet ostensibly patient crowd. The people who so often complained. Were they all dead from the plague of reality? The tranquility was shattered as the familiar wind, which he had grown accustomed yet not agreeable with, howled into his ears, forcing his eyes open. The sudden outburst shocked him as it shocked his vision of those pristine walls which held the spire he so dearly wanted. The rude interruption did more than just shock him and his spire, but also the bricks by his bed. Eagerly, another brick fell onto the cold, stern floor, happy that its wish was finally granted. Joceline wished that the imminent decay of the cathedral would be as imminent as the construction of the additional spire. But it was only a wish. It was a long time since God last fulfilled one.
*This was a piece of creative writing done to emulate a writer's style. The writer in question is William Golding, and the novel in question is The Spire. Obviously, it was an exam question for one of my A level literature prelims.*
Thank you all for your time, if you even read them... -
Ah...a moderator re-done my posts...thanks!
But you screwed up on this poem, Unfinished Drama...Anticlimax.
You split them up into two different posts...care to patch them back?
And well...since you re-ordered the poems, I guess it'll be more difficult for people to piece my life of 2004 together...hehex...the original posts were in chronological order of events and emotions
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oops.... sorry....Originally posted by Alexander_Jude:Ah...a moderator re-done my posts...thanks!
But you screwed up on this poem, Unfinished Drama...Anticlimax.
You split them up into two different posts...care to patch them back?
And well...since you re-ordered the poems, I guess it'll be more difficult for people to piece my life of 2004 together...hehex...the original posts were in chronological order of events and emotions
cos the original posts were too long...
as for the chronological order... I'll try to do something abt tat....
next time split it into shorter posts can?? then wun have this problem... kekeke
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i hope the order is correct now???
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Well...I'm sorry I posted them in huge chunks...it was my first time posting here...as you can see my post count and date of registration...hehex...
Anyway, feel free to comment! -
