Marionette's Mute Musings V2

This is a poem for those who have chosen to speak. Cheers to you, no matter the results. I dedicate this to you.

A hushed voice is sometimes better than silence,

A gesture is sometimes better than veiled emotions,

A wave, a whisper,

A signal is all I seek.

I want to ask for more, but I cannot ask for less,

But knowing nothing about what it means to do least,

Stranded in a weird limbo,

Seek a sign that sets me right, again.

I didn’t ask to know you,

I didn’t ask to love you,

And when I did, I did,

Now I realized that I have hurt you back then.

I am hurt because I never remembered,

I am hurt because you did,

I am hurt more now that it happened,

I am hurt more now that you suffered.

I can only try to understand that pain,

I was the one who caused it,

I do not know how I can lift that pain,

I want to take it all back, yank it and leave nothing.

The dagger that stabbed you,

now dreams to be the sword that defends you,

but it is awkward with the hilt,

asking you to hang on to the blade that once carved you.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,

I know clearly that I do not deserve you,

I know, I know, I know, I know,

But now that I am reminded, I want to carry that pain off you.

In the past,

      we learn to appreciate and complement our souls as one,

Now in present,

      we step forward in a holy union in the presence of The Lord,

In future,

      hand-in-hand, like the wings of a bird, soar high in the promised land of commitment and splendour,

For all eternity to all eternity,

      One in spirit and mind, be blessed in all realms of The Lord.

Thus I seek

I sought out Love

I expected Happiness

I discovered Pain

I learnt Redha

I sought out Justice

I expected Truth

I discovered Might

I learnt Mercy

I sought out Strength

I expected Power

I discovered Weakness

I learnt Humility

I sought out Revenge

I expected Wrath

I discovered Anger

I learnt Forgiveness

I sought out Fortune

I expected Wealth

Pauperness

I learnt Gratitude

I sought out Salam

I expected Hospitality

I discovered Afhwan

I learnt Nikmat

Thus I seek;

I sought out to know, redeem and liberate myself

so,

I expected enlightment and discovery,

yet,

I discovered that life is a long journey,

for,

I learnt to move on, no matter how bad or good the times were.

-DJoker Razgriz Gustav Beouwolf XIII-

Pa & Ma
Father, Mother,
Daddy, Mommy,
A’pa, A’ma!

we know of this,
once upon a time,
you are our parents
and we are your children

As we lived,as we grew,
we played, we laughed,
all under your watchful eyes,
all under your tender hands,

sometimes we protest
sometimes we get upset
sometimes we just forget that
some time ago we were too young to understand,

patience, kindness,
firmness, love,
it brought new meaning to you,
but we didn’t knew it well, but you do,

In time we grew,
In time we matured,
In time we understood,
With all the love and sacrifices you do,

We learnt to appreciate,
because you taught us to
we learnt to love you
because you inspire us to

Once, twice, never enough,
But this is one of those many times,
To say "You are the best parents in our hearts!"
From your children, to you, pa & ma,

We say this not once,
neither twice nor thrice,
but as long as we can say,
we will say, and show our love,

To you our parents,
what is our world without you?
Your hands helped shaped it,
Your minds helped formed it,

If we could make your world better,
we will want to give it a try
If we could make your world colourful,
we will help you paint it bright

Until we do, have children too,
we’ll never understand, your sacrifices too,
but this we know, and this we understand,
you’re always the best parents, we can ever have.

“A friend of Haris” (author)

P/S: this poem was written in honouring a friend’s wish.

Before I move on to this poem, allow me to first highlight 2 people; the man with the xanga ID “Myxl Dove”, and Christine Yu. I searched for the former so that I can acknowledge his poem, the latter is my friend, and still is.

This is for everyone:

A poem for my friend:

I know, from the look in your eyes;

From the way you write your words,

How much you missed him so,

How much you desire him so.

You don’t have to say a word,

You know we can see your fear,

You hide your trembling hands away,

You shyly back to a wall near away,

When he is far away,

When he is unreachable, 

When he is yonders away, 

when he is not right there.

Have faith in yourself

Have faith in him

Have faith you yours,

Have faith in his.

Where that’s the trust it counts

Where that’s the emotion you pool

Where that’s the love and joy,

Where that’s the sanctuary of your soul

So why do you cry, I doubt he is leaving,

So why do you sob, the byes aren’t worth it,

So why don’t you wipe your tears

So why don’t you wait a lil’ more?

Be assured, he is working hard

Be strong, he wishes to see you so

Be calm, for a troubled you troubles him

Be praying, he will return safe and sound

Into your arms, he will return

Into your heart, he will enter

Into your soul he will seek,

Into heaven both of you be.

Im waiting down the aisle
For a friend and a train.
It never arrives on time,
It never leaves on time.

With Technology and Modernity
Punctuality equates only to Economy
civic mindness and courtesy forgotten,
Just like this train, gone in an era.

A sense of time reverse,
I feel it, it reverses back,
I went back in time, I really did,
Like they say, “Good ole’ train times”

The train chugs slowly,
passing by the greens and the hills,
I wonder if my predecessors,
travelled the same way I did?

An old woman sighed,
“Train’s never early, since 1964″
I gave her a look,
and she smiled at me; “yes boy, its true”.

A man in his middle 30s pointed out,
There used to be sellers and peddlers,
Right by every station, nasi lemak and air bendung,
But now they’re gone, “modern rules, so they say.”

Morning in Kluang, but no time for coffee,
Noon in Ipoh, but no time for coffee,
Evening in Taiping, but no time for a kuih,
Night in Butterworth, but the train’s end at the stop.

Sometimes I wonder, I do ponder,
In a train I talk and I chat,
But in a SUPER VIP bus, modern and technological,
The human touch is lost, deprived in “privacy”.

I sit and talk with others in the train,
a grandfather with three cicits,
all happy and excited on their first train trip,
I sit and play along with them.

I see a youth in his teens,
absorbed in his own little laptop game,
Not bothered with the destination,
He’s absorbed, in his own little world.

We all yearn to reach our own hometown,
“Balik kampung lah!” everyone says,
Once the train stops on their tracks,
One by one I whisk them goodbye.

But when we all reach our place,
Butterworth here I stay,
Everyone departs, leaves and say “Bye”
and the time snaps back to present.

2nd January, 2008.

Seven Oh, to One Oh Oh,
Not One Eight Oh,
No, No, No, because
We’re no rempit yo,
“Whee! Whee!” We whizz,
See we as we breeze,
Bruur, Burr, our machines purr,
See our wheels whirl,
and twirl, we’ve got tespect
and we give em’ plenty
To you, to him, to her,
Everybody gets em, on the run,
on the road, all the love.

Down in my koseit…

We don’t slide,
Because we glide,
We don’t fly
But we ride
Above all we scoot,
We just don’t go vroom,
Like a magic broom,
With little or no boom,
We go with style
But we love to ride hard,
and we always abide, bide, the white tide,

Down in my koseit…

We happy few,
We happy band of scooterist…
When we ride the tide…

Down in my koseit…

Water, water,
For that youth,
Quick, quick, give him some,
for his thirst is killing him, the fire is consuming him,
Slowly, slowly, easy does it,
Not too fast, not too slow,
Not the whole fountain, but not just a drop,
Till the throat is content, flush his thirst away,
Extinguish the fire, let him bath to be clean,
So that the youth could share the water, tell the others,
come, go, gather, disperse,
the fountain can give all that one wants,
warm, sweet, cold, clear, anything,
wash the youth’s dirty feet,
clear the thoughts in this mind,
breathe in the fragrance, cool the breezes,
into his nostrils and the lungs,
water, water,
the fingers dip, the hands immerse,
the legs waddle, the body submerged,
the youth now swims, amongst the fishes,
life is giveth, death is taketh,
water, water for that youth,
water, water, that is all.