Wednesday, March 31, 2010


walk along,
in a daze
and walk,
keep walking,
until you stumble over it.
trip a little
and let yourself be steadied
as you slip gently
on the jagged,
polished stones.
made shiny,
by the countless feet that they have tripped up.

Monday, March 22, 2010


a shell of a thought
tantalizingly polished
out of reach.
a shell of a moon,
washed by the seas of time,
someone once said.
and striving to love
in the old high way of love,
he said too.
a shell of a love
by trying.
a fragment of a feeling
lying in a corner
without someone
a fragmented world
because someone was missing
and the hope
that he will will make it whole
is all that keeps the shell floating
moon bobbing
heart beating.
but hope,
wants to be forgotten too.
and hope,
scared of drowning,
leaves the fragments incomplete.

prufrock and his cat (?)

I sit
and watch
wishing my eyes were amber,
molten gold.

she watches
and then
thinks a while
about what she is watching,
where it is going
she bats it around

and then i roll it towards you.

it unravels slightly
and wobbles
from the direction it is meant to go
bits start coming apart
little little bits
but it keeps going
heading towards

left behind
some bright
others dulled
with weariness and regret
little shots of colour
scattered around the floor
so bright
almost alive
so pale
as if they never existed

she watches
as it slowly makes its way across the floor
almost intact.

what will you do with it?

every thought
i ever spared
i took thinking of you
every ounce of my being

"To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question..."

is it really the same though?

it rolls across
rolls away
it won't roll back.

i love you.

...for you. "

Carpe Diem.

Sunday, March 21, 2010


her eyes deepened
as she watched
him walk

where was he walking?
or towards?
no one knew

and everyone knew
and no one knew

and they wouldn't tell her.

she watched
as he breathed
and his eyes softened
into something
she felt the world tremble
but who his eyes
lit up for
no one could tell her
they all knew
and they didn't know
because everyone
they couldn't tell her.

his head turned
and the fraction of a glance
a smile
a voice
the world burst open
why did the world burst open?
no one would tell her

so she stamped her foot
and she
and ranted
and walked up to him and glared
and split
the mirage at the seams

and then he gently said
i cant tell you
so softly
that she knew something
but still didn't know anything at all.


will you ever know
what you do to me?
how your walking into a room,
will break my heart?
will you ever know
how happy you make me
will you ever know
that somewhere
someone will love you
more than you
can even imagine?
no, how could you
you exist
on a different plane
you're unfathomable
to anyone but yourself
love you
can even imagine.

Thursday, March 18, 2010


i love you
more that anyone.

we can turn
and holding hands,
face the world
and go "Hah"
at everything
that laughed and rolled their eyes

because we are




title credits- a grumpy songbird

Tuesday, March 16, 2010


i am so sick of the sound of numbers.
i went and looked at all the cut-offs of last year.
and i died.

its just not fair that mediocrity doesn't get a shot at brilliance.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Return to the Hundred Acre Wood

i think i like Pooh and co. a bit too much, and i know that it doesn't say much for my mental level. but you know what, that's okay. judge me. go ahead. if you are a Winnie-the-Pooh hater, you don't count for much in the scheme of life anyway.

i... liked the new book. it made me smile. and that's what pooh is supposed to do, right?
(i have board exams going on, and I'm reading Winnie-the-Pooh.)
okay, so i see where you're coming from with the raised eyebrows. but oh well.

i appreciate the fact that David Benedictus stuck to the original concept and didn't go the Disney way.
i mean, really. Pooh bear with his red t-shirt is cute and all that, but Poohs aren't meant to be "cute". they are meant to be Bears of Very Little Brain, who eat Honey, and make hums, and say these lovely floaty things that make your heart smile. they are not meant to bounce and have odd little put-on voices that are neither man nor bear.
the Disney hundred acre wood works, and is adorable, if you consider it to be something completely outside A. A. Milne's original world. different galaxy.

but back to the latest Pooh on the block. some are rather critical. but i have to admit, i like him.
it isn't half as good as the old pooh, and you know, pooh could have been left where he was. but in a way, I'm glad he wasn't. i liked the illustrations, they were sort of halfway between shepherd's originals and Disney's wobbly-creature.

i think no one could live up to Milne's style. when something exists in a person's head, only they can bring them out properly, and i don't think anyone will ever do justice to it. But the new book, almost, almost got there.
and the fact that I'm not left outraged, furious, and broken hearted at the latest massacre of my all time favourite friend, but instead, left feeling quite happy, has much to say about the book.

Saturday, March 13, 2010


The One-Minute Writer: Friday Fiction: To Half and to Hold

i'll hold half your hand
give you half a smile
a half-hug every single day
i'll halve my world
and give you
one whole half
if you'll only promise
half of half your heart
for me.


Sunday, March 7, 2010


she waited and waited
for her dreams to catch up to her
for the butterflies
to chase her instead of the wind
she waited for the world to dance to her tunes
but somehow
she found herself chasing her own words instead.
she tied knots around herself
wrapped her world up in
strings of thought
wound and unwound
and then tried to
into a
ball of black yarn
she walked a while
along cobbles stones
and tossed her hair
at the empty streets
and waited
for her dreams to catch up to
and then
and began
behind a train
of hollow words
sleepy thoughts
picking up pace
and they grew
and ran further and further away.