It’s been an awful long time since last engaged we,
But that doesn’t mean our friendship to any less.
Still remember I thee as that lovely girl I first eyed,
Oh what joy, youthful infatuations from my past.

Thank you for creating that pivotal point in my Life,
And a juncture that I visit every now every then.
Say so today as I would have back then,
Ay, thy cherry lips and skin fair as palely ice.

Nae man can tether time or tide,
All’s gone are but memories which I treasure hold tight.
Irrevocably, my days more colored for met I you,
So fate and fortune decreed I met thee in my time.

Another year briskly it’s time again,
How age catches outruns our each day.
On not how each candle adds to date,
But on our virgin meet 27 shinings away.

5 and 2 months; resemblance to yesterday,
Though blink of eye, yours vividly remain.
I wonder if the flowers its’ scent will one day,
Be erased; forgotten, our Time in some place.

Know not when this silence of summer’s night fade,
My memories they bring me to that very first fate.
And before Time its habit to slip away,
This year once again, wishings; a Happy Birthday.

Miraculous it may seem,
Fate works its ways in us beings.
For never did I imagine could be,
What I seek’d in front of me.

Once I hanker’d and once I did receive,
Paints of memories and etch’d it did.
An innocent Romeo & Juliet story,
Coincidences in most everything.

Like the end of tragic Love stories,
Too ours perhaps guileless and naïve.
But these flowers its’ scent can’t be erased,
Even long after they’re gone we had our Time in some place.

Remember I the times sore,
Stricken; afflicted and wretched.
Besetment assail’d from above,
Like the bottomward that downpour’d.

There sat I at sixes and sevens,
Dazed at what just befell.
For at the bridge knew not I,
What wrong I did nor neither fate might.

How did such beauty and perfection cease?
Why my imaginary cloud shapes no longer pleased?
For the bright blessed day of just 5 minutes,
Now overcast acerbity.

Though things may sometimes I never know,
Left unsolved it may best be so.
Memories more precious for there in Heart stays,
But storms will eventually dissipate.

With time I sat the more I knew,
Darkest clouds too come and go.
Silver linings are there always,
When storms pass there they glow.

The greatest distance between two,
Not for when I not next to you.
But for when face to yours see,
Not oblivious to each’s burning ardency.

It is for then when you in front of me,
And yet when Love we know subsist,
And yet whilst this passion flamingly,
That we know Fate will never let us be.

These three words most commonly used;
Misused, underused and superfluously accented.
For oft-imagined they only indulged in Lovers’ converse,
Neglected Love of kinships and friends due.

If Fate so callously command should to me,
That next beautiful sunrise again I will never see.
Then let all I adore be told these three,
Lest they cease to ever remember me remember Thee.

For Love be from me to my Parents rightfully,
And Love be to all close or even acquainted me.
Not least be Love to fore Lovers of mine give,
That each did I bare for Thine wholeheartedly.

Did chance not I had to profess all these?
Nay I say, for my actions they preceded me.
Only for moments with me not around to please,
I Love You for moments just like these.

Words from Thy Heart need not speak,
For tongues unworldly fit deem to say of it.
See need not Love’s eye to sight,
That what you be feeling needn’t show explicit.

Thoughts as such no one seems know,
Less even as to touch your soul.
I beg to differ that it be not the involvement of hands,
That melts what where your true self beats.

Thou longeth for glances candied and delicate lips,
Even memories to warm up and safe keep.
But most of all what your beatings forlorn need,
Is a Love; fairytale ever after to exist.

I be saying all these as same I somewhat agree,
That what you dearly hold on to I can relate honestly.
If kind fate should ever decree favorably,
Too I search what you too seek.

Magical if such Love should indeed extant be,
Doubt I that Thou will really ever should need;
Such speech, sight, mind and senses sweet,
For Love is the only thing needed transcend all these.

No words said but thoughts the other knows,
No visions but the other Thee clearly in head sees.
No tendering touches but still lucidly; felt we.
For Love true should if exist,
All these irrelevant be; we not need.

Poor thing. (Image used with owner's permission)

 
“From my eyes” by Esmond Ng © copyright 14/11/05

From my eyes,
Bustling profuse on streets.
Yet no one turns twice to see,
The agony I terrible be.

Stricken; injured leg I laid,
By the bin eyes so wretchedly.
None to hear my mewls aid,
None to helplessness I can relate.

From my eyes,
All caught up in own busy day.
How so no one to avail my pain?
Seems compassion yesteryear a trait.

For I am exposed feeble,
Without human speech and expression.
Without which I am prostrated,
To Death a certitude fate.

Although stray my parentage,
I am living and with filled feelings.
I am just a little kitten impoverished by strain,
Just a kitty, please on me have pity.

I believe in Love, true.
I believe in Valentines, everyday.
I believe in Fairytales and “Happily Ever Afters”.
I believe in finding you, someday.

I believe in “Made in Heaven”.
I believe in “Meant to be”.
I believe in Miracles of Fate.
I believe in someday you and me.

I believe in me giving everything.
I believe in you to me will reciprocate.
I believe in both fully giving and taking.
I believe in this, the Love of my Life does await.

I believe in someone believing the same things.
I believe in under this sky blanket we stay.
I believe in you be thinking of what I say.
I believe in true Love; really, someday.

It’s all at variance; the feeling now after ye move.
166 a place dear now seems so at ease.
Leisurely seated on the blue-tiled stool as writing these,
For depart’d fear of chance you’d see my doing this.

Not ever hoped I that I may glimpse of Thee,
Nor ever dreamt that my sight would cross with Thee’s.
But solace seeking and relish that I stay here,
Near my very own yellow-signed love story.

Even though Thou’s shadow has shifted expectedly,
More of a memory, a picture frame in mind it hath left me.
Yes, it may look silly or crazy some have deem’d.
To this special place frequent I still constantly.

The taint’d white cat cuddles up next to me,
As if it knows me, of my solitary misery.
Occasionally it steals glances; those that pierce right through the soul,
It be like saying: “Easy, I feel for you for I the same fate be.”

Still my thoughts would often play cruel tricks on me.
Thinking how nice it would be if all can restart from time on bridge.
For then, it would still feel like an eternity;
An eternity so perfect in fairy dreams.

How heart-wrenching that sound of bus should pull alongside me,
Snapping me out of my own world; this world of poetic release.
So as light breeze this night ends this week abruptly,
My leaving likened to Enya’s “Deora Ar Mo Chroi”;
“Tears Of My Heart” it sings indeed.

However, I choose not to believe in Destiny. There are those who lament they’re not meant to successful. They say that they’re destined to fail. They postulate that Prime Ministers are “born”, not made. That they need to be “born” with special skills, characteristics and luck. More often than not, they present tons of reasons or rather excuses for themselves. Such as complicated family backgrounds, lack of support or even name a friend’s influence! Firmly, I beg to differ. Simply because there exists such a thing called “Choice”.

Choice is something that accosts us each and every day. Whether we choose a red or white shirt, whether we eat noodles or rice; almost each and everything we do, we have a choice. There’s really no such thing as no choice. It’s just seems so because we sometimes choose the easier way out straight away!

Whilst we are at “Choice”, it can be elementary placed into two main categories. One, those already made and two, those that are yet to be made. A decision of the past is a sunk one. It doesn’t matter anymore if it was right or wrong. What’s done is done! There’s no way to “turn back the clock” as Johnny Hates Jazz suggests. What’s important are those that you can still control, the choices you have yet to make; the decisions that affect your future! That’s the sole reason I can think of why it’s called “Choice” and not “Chosen”.

Though the hand of clouds shielded most brights from our sights,
Twenty Seven was more than enough for me.
The beautiful night not dimm’d for moment single,
For thee was by my side and right.

Lays’t down on fine sand we had be,
Everything truly was splendid as in dreamer’s plead.
Of all remember I, for it be most deeply engrav’d;
The momentous laze and too be it our first friendship embrace.

Often I would recall, thinks’t and relish;
Revel in all astonish’d honesty.
That it seem’d I’d known you for ages before,
Even though fate had decree’d chosen to so late.

In all instantaneous like combustion of passion flames,
I’d found, finally, with clear certitude.
That so Life without you,
Really feels like night skies not fill’d.

And maybe, just so now it darks’t that way;
I know deep down that because of Thee,
My twenty seven will always shine,
And my Life is brightly lit,
Because of you.

Life was never meant roses lining the way
Nor it be shelter from storms and winds strong
If it truly be of other case
Then never will thee see wars that cometh strife and pain’st

God, my father whom doeth incredible things
Not see do we his fathomed plans which play
Meant not what rain is to us, but is to trees on the plain
Sometimes really Fate not work our way

Cry you, “Please be like yesterday”
“Pray no”, I say to thee as no such thing
As rainbows grace the blue after the grey as you’d think’st
So too, look forward to the after where there is not yet pain

If Achievement came before Failure as in dictionaries’ say
Man would know never how success came
Memories honestly mean the past now sunk’st
Why bore over then relish the already won

Phyllis which is green bough to the Greeks
Signifies Life from you which brim
Never did leaves cease growing should they be trimm’d
Ask, why then should thee not flourish again.

Once a time upon, grew a boy on tales;
of dragons slain’d and maidens rescu’d.
As of age he grew, traveled far in vain,
never found the tale he knew.

From lofty to dishearten’d did time prove,
soon abandon’d his search for his truth.
Norms became his norms
and dreams became standstill.

Then fate chanced upon him,
as sudden as floods on boxing due.
Heard of a princess,
distress could be still.

Awaken’d from deep slumber the knight arose,
remembering every aspiration and dream instilled.
Rode like wind, conquere’d all adversities till.
Like all written fairytales, happily ever after;
what he always knew.