Posts Tagged ‘memory’

“In Memory”

In Loving Memory of Stephanie Tan Lai Chan (23/01/89 – 01/01/10)

“In Memory” by Esmond Ng 02/01/10 © Copyright

I would see you almost every other day,
But yet you, I’d not know beyond your name.
Too few hellos and goodbyes we’d have,
Time too haste, too fast to chase.

We shared too, too little exchanges;
Of hearty smiles and laughter candor.
Of our ups and downs, and cheer and fears.
Fair in times like these never, know not I will ever.

I’d never know how your demeanor,
Of what your friends about you say.
How you’d react to the funny things, I have yet no chance to say.
Know not I will ever, this friend I have yet to truly make.

For our God has chosen for you,
To His bosom side to stay.
And though we’ll all miss you in our each own ways,
We’d like you to know, you were not in vain.

For your memories and image they live on,
In those whom sighted you as you blazed along.
Like a comet gone too soon,
We’ll reminisce till we’re blazed out too.

In three weeks 21 you’d be,
“Happy Birthday, Steph!” to you from me.
A final teary “Goodbye” for now it seems,
Hearts, your family, friends and me.

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“Four Dreams”

“Four Dreams” by Esmond Ng © copyright 30/08/05

The other night you were away,
Out went I, gallivanting amidst boisterous crowds.
Fluttering to music or rather, noises all too loud;
Loneliness did help, aid to plug them out.

How happy you could not see,
My face that moment of message yours I received.
But it must have been noticed my face which gleamed,
For burdened everyone else’s around me.

Seemingly drunk I stammered home,
However fresh your memory I hold untainted close.
That all I can think of is Thee in foreign land remote,
And how far my baby is though under the same moon glow.

After much debate did my eyes actually occlude,
To sleep I thought “Hey, tomorrow will be better posed.”
Serenity tranquil associated to rest not true,
For it seemed my night was terribly consumed.

Four times aroused through the dark slumbers,
Each time I recall, I dreamt of only you.
And once did I cry before from truly forty winks awoke,
How else could my pillow and sheets be soaked?

They say a drunk’s word most honest; it be true,
Wanted to know whose name I’d call if I were juiced.
Wanted to see if in Love really I be with you,
No need an answer now for my seek of candor truth.

For know I this moment where it belongs,
My heart and yearnings; they for you.
At least I fathomed my feelings as honest real,
At least I know now my breath breathes for you.

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“Fireworks”

“Fireworks” by Esmond Ng © copyright 09/08/05

I’m sorry my promise I couldn’t see with Thee,
The symphony of Fireworks that Thee so wanted so fancied.
Owing to circumstances I know both we can’t foresee,
I truly wanted it to be ours; our uniquely memory.

But Thee so chose to give to another this our memory,
That He may not even appreciate; just to entertain not genuinely.
Though with elseone Thee had viewed the colorings momentarily,
I wonder who be on Thy mind when Thee beheld the spectacle see?

My glimpse from afar though same as Thee’s,
My head under the same lit sky night really far away be.
I don’t know, I wonder what really;
But my foolish thinking that on Thee’s mind be me.

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“The 166″

“The 166” by Esmond Ng © copyright 09/07/05

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.

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“Paint my memories”

“Paint my memories” by Esmond Ng © copyright 25/05/05

I know Sorry is a word redundant,
When you have set out to eradicate me.
I know my explanations mean nothing,
For a verdict like a judge did pass me.

The reason for end is not as important as the ending,
This finale is not at all beautiful like stories seem.
But it may be best this way an end to all these,
For I realize myself too that anything to you I can’t promise.

I did enjoy your company, I really did.
Everything a memory I would still want to cherish.
Never did intend to use thee lik’d thee had deem’d me,
But it’s really not crucial the reasoning already.

For know myself more through knowing thee,
That in my heart someone else is still within me.
“Paint my memories” she did really,
A painting with varnish and medium to last for centuries.

Lest it be less use to say it,
It be best still the word to put it.
Thou do deserve someone better, someone that can give;
Sorry, that for you one is not me.

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“I’m still me”

“I’m still me” by Esmond Ng 06/05/05 © copyright

I know it seems different now,
A very chang’d circumstance we be in.
With every exchange liken’d to,
The decay of cold fatality wins.

For days, hours, seconds they creep by;
Exacerbate bad to its superlative.
Though I be thought of as repugnant,
Is that the really of me you knew?

Distrust and disbelief they set in,
Find my all so unnecessarily burden’d.
One day it be hard to see me;
The me who has always been.

For I am who you first chanc’d to meet,
I am the very same from the beginning.
Looks’t back and pray thee remember please,
Memory the same very old me.

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