My Pseudo Lover

“My Pseudo Lover” by Esmond Ng 30/08/12 © Copyright

We met, the unlikeliest of places in,
Over periwinkles and happily ever-afters.
You laughed initially, at the girl of dreams my,
But soon you saw, what really meant I.

We coupled, our fixations shared,
Remote and absurd but our inhibitions bared.
You suggested we chat and did we,
A bee to flower it soon daily be.

We dreamt of each other funny,
For never met had we.
And we heard each other’s soul acutely,
Though our voices, too had not we.

I became your morning addiction,
And you, I didn’t make known, became mine.
I wrote you poems and messages sweet,
Some that made you tingled, multiply.

We made Love, cuddled and caressed,
Through our thoughts and words unclad.
We made Love on our minds’ ends,
The longings we couldn’t repress.

I had thought we should have next stepped,
I had thought we both were ready.
But guesses me over Sunday no not maybe,
That sure, my Pseudo Lover isn’t yet she.

Now she distanced seems,
My fault, I keep blaming me.
Why the haste so,
Why stupidly did I do, what did me.

She dilemmas over us,
And rightly so should she.
As in her mind reruns our memories,
So I too, her pinky promises to me.

Rereading our writings umpteenly,
Unknowingly attached have become me.
And all this while I tried to steal pieces of your heart,
You had already taken mine completely.


My Bubu Dream

“My Bubu Dream” by Esmond Ng copyright © 11/08/06

Sugary most not definitely,
Taste if sweetened bifold still lacking.
Why Time still bitter bids me chimera,
When all in alpha was such heavenly.

What more a man can be?
When in dreams his stance airs not his belief.
In reverie when vagary permits,
He chooses silence yet to speak.

They say dreams best for utopian schemes,
Where you are master of all it.
Then why not did I stage a better hit,
Why chose I a tragic love misfit?

I comfort though in succor of relief,
That Thee I glimpsed in beaming bliss.
For this I may never awaken see,
If not my lucid Bubu dream.


“The Slumber Baby”

“The Slumber Baby” by Esmond Ng © copyright 05/02/06

Was cruising on the expressway last dark,
Soft the radio croons my favorite tunes.
There on not my right but left be,
A slumber baby midst in her dreams.

Were they sweet saccharine sugary?
The cloudland I pray not too cloyingly.
For revel I in her faerie form in silent sleep,
Not to wake but in still repose I enjoy see.

Admit I that lonely the drive not be,
For alongside me a little slumber baby.
And those stolen glances occasionally at she,
That the journey no longer seems a journey.

Such enchanting company; the slumber baby.


Love should not need

“Love should not need” by Esmond Ng © copyright 07/01/06

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.


Forget Me

“Forget Me” by Esmond Ng © copyright 11/12/05

Forget you?
Why should I?
For to me you the most pleasant;
Of all my memories present.

Forget you?
And the reason being?
Not that hopes of rekindled feelings hold,
Just as a dear friend I hope still own.

They say:
“Friends are friends forever.”
Ain’t that the way supposed it be?
Then why I feel ostracized and such enmity?

I still do cry out Heavenly One,
Not for Love to come my way.
But for happiness your way,
And all that you wish for to stay.

I may have mistakes made,
Along this lonely path swayed.
But I am just man to err,
Not an excuse but forgiveness please I pray.

At the end of my days,
I still hope to have this memory engraved.
That maybe sweet thoughts of you,
Can keep my beliefs sane.

Oh no, I haven’t changed.
I still believe, I still do keep;
That someday true Love cometh,
This never smooth road runneth.

Then I ask once again.
“Forget me”, “Why?” I say.
For all this searching while for,
A perfect memory I’ve found that day.


The Sixth Sense

“The Sixth Sense” by Esmond Ng © copyright 08/12/05

The first being you my eyes see,
That such is sense sweet of sight.
That Love they say blind is,
Nay I say for you not their visions find.

Secondly the serene sound of Thee,
Voice as choir concordant pleasing.
That all who chance hear of such music,
Shall no longer stray but choose near stay it.

Third my nose will first recognize,
That scent of fresh on Thy skin fine.
Which lingers as flowers in Spring,
Luscious I remember will always seem.

That fourth sense of touch never can forget,
The sensations when skins they match.
Cause hearts to beat uncontrollably,
And breaths hastened to the beats.

Only once did our lips meet,
Yet this fifth feeling is forever engraved deep.
The taste of innocent lips,
The pervading taste of Love’s reach.

Such are five senses commonly said,
But one more true that is the sixth.
That the one truth from the heart Love speaks,
Is the one which overrules all the preceding.


This Place

“This Place” by Esmond Ng © copyright 25/11/05

After all, this was where I first saw you in white angelic.
The place I picked you up from for our first date.
The place I thought I would see the sweetest thing to my eyes each every day.
The place which stayed the one who took my last true love breath away.

At this place I hold much lovely memories but also pain.
That I would hurt someone and disappoint her till this day.
At this place, never the same it will be.
At this place, they soon will tear down; cease to exist.

But at this place, though no longer soon be;
Will stay the same in heart and mind; like you be to me.
For I to you, believe you still say the same;
That you be a holder of past “begone” memories.



“Rainbows” by Esmond Ng © copyright 12/10/05

Rainbows, the most spectacular show of lights on Earth.
Colors which make happy even the darkest of Hades.
Called so due to dispersed spectrum through mist,
Miracle of Nature indeed it is.

Seven colors some deem display of refraction properties.
Simply I ascribe each to every day of week,
That thoughts of you equally as pleasing sweet;
So such candied beauty is actually reflected on Thy cheeks.

What makes it all amazing, the bow of the rain,
Bending it’s colorations down for Thee.
Few fathom the top of bow is where ye sun is peaked,
The very place Thou be when Thy eyes chance upon should it.

More so fewer knows the sun be behind when Rainbows are seen;
The warm rays of console backing you though unseen.
When Thou should thinkst all is gloom and so biting,
Turn and look, there may your forlorn beam be.

I have heard from a dear friend this,
“That everyone through storms go before a Rainbow achieved.”
Think of it this, even Noah’s storm for forty days and nights did;
Take heart Dearie, your Rainbow is on due way soon you’ll see.


Wish you with me

“Wish you with me” by Esmond Ng © copyright 30/08/05

In glee, my joyous soul longeth for Thee;
To share and savor each victory with Thou art and only.
That each becomes a pleasantly sweet memory,
One which I can in retrospect say: “Ah, I did that with Thee!”

In melancholy, my woeful heart’s voice calls for Thee,
To find solace and comfort when Thee beside me.
That Thou’s assuring voice and hug can be just as sugary,
As ye sunshine smile when I set eyes on my lovely.

Where art Thou when I so pined for Thee?
Where art Thou when moments I so wished spent along my baby?
That I could have so much more pleasing dreamings,
Where art Thou when I wish you with me?


Having the same dream

My friend, siLLyeGG wrote the following:

“She” © 17/08/05
She may be the onli one I ever need
Except that she is now wif another kidz
Loving her secretly was not that sweet
In my mind I have feel the heat
Not knowing of what she may thinks
Alone I stay and continue my dream…

No offense but in some way, we share the same dream. In response:

“Having the same dream” by Esmond Ng © copyright 19/08/05

My dream from awaken from slumber sweet,
Yet it be like still in drowse this romantic reverie.
She may be another’s only and ever need;
Else that, however her heart already with me.
Lest I be just some other simpleton kid,
I believe it be more than child’s play that me she fancies.
Not at all secret that Thou’s Love for her scorned in heat,
Agree I, that loving her is no easy feat.
Again reality painfully bites when arisen from sleep,
Not alone you, I too find solace so comforting in dreams.
Deem us Shakespeare’s blinding fools we both be,
Men in Love never really could objectively see.
Else why would He say: “…so is all nature in love mortal in folly.”


Treasure Before Lost

“Treasure Before Lost” by Esmond Ng © copyright 11/08/05

They say: “Why do people treasure things only after they lose it?”
May it be the missings during lonely moments?
May it be the memories so sweet brought back?
Perhaps even the familiarity of not having what used to be about?

Why then do people complain about those not already there?
Why then do people lament about things already sunk and gone?
But do they not see the after; what may in future store?
The subsequent treasures that may come forth?

I say to them: “Why treasure what’s already gone, already lost?”
What’s the use of saying treasure only after forgone?
Why not treasure what’s here and now?
What’s truly right in front of you that still is around;
And not turn into another treasure only after gone.


More than Dreams

“More than Dreams” by Esmond Ng © copyright 13/07/05

Dreams be to most snapping back into reality,
That with each dawning bright, ideas of wish fade into dark.
My mind often hear things with sensitivity,
So obscure it may seem like such idle dreams.

Do I really pick up any of Thy subtlety?
Hidden in simple art of word pictures see?
Or it be just plain foolishness on me,
To hold on these sands of Time; slipping through open fingers quickly.

Still stubbornness and wishfully tight I hold my grip,
Not wanting go my own fantasy dream.
Till this day feel that God would have kinder to me,
No goodbyes; that His grace could have shown through your sweet company.

“I can only dream” what Thee makes of it,
More than dreams I still pray that Thee revert decisions please.
For I know I’d treasure this silly love theme,
Even though it may just be another of my dawning dreams.


Here I’d be

“Here I’d be” by Esmond Ng 02/06/05 © copyright

No need for that,
Sorry a word not meant this way.
Thee had not done to me on purpose,
Not Thy fault what of me that hurts.

For in Love this I can say true,
That no right or wrong can define to.
Thus if Thou truly be happy,
What sorry is need’d from Thee?

If any at all blame be needy,
Then it should be me to shoulder all it.
For I give my every in heart too easily,
When I encounter someone so worthy.

It be not deceitfully contriv’d,
For I would not pain for myself had plann’d it.
But of nature’s course I genuine did,
Fall head over heels so badly indeed.

Though I say these all with prose poetic,
Every word single I mean sincere herein.
Addition, not to make Thee guilty,
For that is last I want to achieve;
Surely, more pains’t to me if I knew it.

If, ever, if one day, Thee finds’t different.
That your heart would start beat for me,
I would hear and here I’d be.
If Thee feels ever such feelings,
Please, run to me.

For present, it be enough for me;
To know that all is well for Thee.
That in my dreams I can also rest easy;
Sweet and sugary I too want clos’d eyelids see.

I tell you actually,
That each before dreams I’d be,
Praying secretly, everything smooth for Thee.
That not hurt nor frown ever win,
The chirpy laughter I remember so clearly.

And till that if ever day ever really occurs,
I’d be cheering you on, as a friend so dearly.
For if aid Thee should require of me,
You can trust your good friend here,
Here I’d be.


Lavender Tales

“Lavender Tales” by Esmond Ng 24/05/05 © copyright

Lavender, color of pale violet;
Pallid my checks without sight of thee.
Yet ye color of radiance beams,
On thy face is what long I to see.

Wildly commonly cultivat’d,
So wild my bushes burn for thee.
Tardily the bush fires my heart in,
Eats up single every ounce of me.

Its oil produce from which,
Makes luscious what perfumes need.
With each squeeze of the purple dream,
Comes each true feeling felt for thee.

Lavandula, fragrant really to me,
Not because of smells to flowers sweet;
But for meanings within thee thou has to agree,
That my Love, you equal as to it.


Saga Seeds

“Saga Seeds” by Esmond Ng © copyright 04/05/05

I thinks’t of thee from time to time,
Wonder if at times, I cross’d thy mind?
Even in dreams, thee appears.
Sometimes however good or bad,
Is still as sweet a dream can be.

Dreams be the only place I can see.
Now that live I unaccustom’d without thee;
Ye only place which sweet be to me.
Yes, I think back to places where we’d be.
Yes, they are such lip-lifting memories.

Like Saga Seeds which thinks’t of begone acts,
Something which we both can attest;
Relish of sentiments past and gone,
A trait that you wouldn’t not understand.

Thus pray I to thee, blame not be unto me.
For it is in genuine me,
To thinks’t and not forget thee.



“Flipping” by Esmond Ng 06/04/05 © copyright

Remember the time your notebook took I from you?
Flipped to the end page and this which wrote;
Sweet a little message, sugary like you.
Of my purpose, penning thoughts so true.

Meaning the flipping to back I construed,
Signifies which back of my mind are you.
That with each day that is renewed,
The first thought, my smile begins with you.

Wrote I too that hopping each time could you,
Flip to the back and thinkst of me too.