Baronhawk's Nest

Walter Williams' The Journalist's Creed

2012-01-19T01:10:00.000+08:00

THE JOURNALIST'S CREED
by Walter Williams 1906

I believe in the profession of Journalism.

I believe that the public journal is a public trust; that all connected with it are, to the full measure of responsibility, trustees for the public; that all acceptance of lesser service than the public service is a betrayal of this trust.

I believe that clear thinking, clear statement, accuracy and fairness are fundamental to good journalism.

I believe that a journalist should write only what he holds in his heart to be true.

I believe that suppression of the news, for any consideration other than the welfare of society, is indefensible.

I believe that no one should write as a journalist what he would not say as a gentleman; that bribery by one's own pocket book is as much to be avoided as bribery by the pocketbook of another; that individual responsibility may not be escaped by pleading another's instructions or another's dividends.

I believe that advertising, news and editorial columns should alike serve the best interests of readers; that a single standard of helpful truth and cleanness should prevail for all; that supreme test of good journalism is the measure of its public service.

I believe that the journalism which succeeds the best-and best deserves success-fears God and honors man; is stoutly independent; unmoved by pride of opinion or greed of power; constructive, tolerant but never careless, self-controlled, patient, always respectful of its readers but always unafraid, is quickly indignant at injustice; is unswayed by the appeal of the privilege or the clamor of the mob; seeks to give every man a chance, and as far as law, an honest wage and recognition of human brotherhood can make it so, an equal chance; is profoundly patriotic while sincerely promoting international good will and cementing world-comradeship, is a journalism of humanity, of and for today's world.

Di Tasik Sunyi

2011-12-31T18:10:00.003+08:00

Kuteguk hirup, petala mimpi,

beralas redup, sisip memori.

Bingkis rindu, tiada lagi,
hanya syahdu, cinta duniawi.

Tiada dendam, tiada lara,
hanya sepi, menanti senja.

Ketiika dulu, engkau dan aku,
berkongsi seru, irama lagu.

Jantung berdegup, melirik mata,
jari berpaut, puitis kata.

Hanya sepi, alunan alpa,
di tasik sunyi, tingalan kita.

Soul Crescent

2011-12-31T18:09:00.000+08:00

I was dark,
brimming fears,
hidden tears,
tumbling years.

touched by light,
borrowed brilliance
soul-confluence
star-seed's countenance.

Now I bloom,
iridescent
awakened latent
transcendent.

Mengejar Memori

2011-11-27T21:40:00.001+08:00

Ku masih berlari-lari,
mengejar cebis memori,
menangkup kembali diri,
dirungkai realiti.

Ku susur jalan yang sepi,
ke hujung sisa mimpi,
merangkul noktah sunyi,
buat penawar hati.

Velvet Skies

2011-11-15T23:09:00.001+08:00

I walk with stars tonight,
the velvet skies my road,
as painted moonbeam sighs,
accosts the miles I trod.

On paths where promise holds,
and timid hearts unfurl,
for eyes dance twinkle glow,
and lips blush candy smiles.

Gempa

2011-10-26T11:10:00.000+08:00

Ragas besi pagar UPSI
walau bisu tegar saksi
penumbuk belantan sepatu kuasa
menolak hak suara siswa
terkujur tubuh dilokap jasad
namun semangat tiada lumat.

Dari lubuk dulu perca
tindas AUKU paksa penguasa
bangkit bangun tegak semula
megah gagah tegap perkasa
semangat juang aktivis siswa
pemangkin hala tuju negara.

Asas hakiki natijah pemuda
semangat juang untuk semua
sebar tebar ikrar war-war
kudrat istilah ikhlas wajar
bebas adil hak minda
kanun fitrah alam semesta.

Dengar gema sabung petir
hentak kaki ratusan hadir
semangat jitu jiwa raga
titis darah nafas nyawa
rentak pencak tari muda
deru derau arus gempa.

Dulu kelam kembali nyala
tegas cergas tegak siaga
obor jomong api mahligai
menara gading dulu digadai
kini kembali terang cahya
singkir kelam angkara senja.

*Didekasikan semula untuk aktivis-aktivis pelajar yang diserbu polis ketika perhimpunan aman di UPSI Tg Malim.

Praise for Sheena

2011-10-15T09:00:00.000+08:00

Like a diadem it sits,
the third eye to her forehead,
beauty marking beauty,
the cradle of lovely phrase.

As like a monument she breathes,
the center universe to this Dervish.
As round and round the stage,
I dance the world her praise.

Gema

2011-09-30T16:11:00.001+08:00

Dengar!

Bunyi keringat nan menitis
degup jantung bagai petir
deru darah yang mengalir
putar minda yang berfikir.

Dengar!

Mergastua nan menangis
rimba tumbang bukit hakis
tanah adat tinggal nipis
harta alam jarah habis.

Dengar!

Suara rakyat hidup derita
Pribumi dihalau dihumban papa
tangis rintih anak bangsa
hidup sisih dibumi merdeka.

Bangun!

Bangkit berdiri penyair muda
biar puisi jadi senjata
angkat pena jadi gerila
lawan penjajah akal dan minda.

Satu nada satu suara
titik tanda cetus acara
susun alun dibina gema
nukilan tinta nurani kata.

Dulu diikat kini terbuka
jangan diikut pembunuh idea
buang tempurung keluar segera
kita generasi harapan negara.

Sedar!

Buka mata segar telinga
lihat dengar peka segala
betul salah jangan teka
mesti tahu tengok periksa.

Lapuk usang di atas takhta
diundi rakyat tidaknya berjasa
tanya alasan sebab alpa
nasib kita jadi perca.

Jerit tak dengar kita dilupa
mungkin masa diajar belaka
bila masa toba pangkah
biar penindas jadi noktah.

Gema! Gema! Gema!

Biar beralun gegar udara
suara tinta hasrat sirna
canang rancak rentak irama
merubah nasib diri negara.

Kata-kata buat Noramfaizul (Wartawan Bernama yang terkorban di Somalia)

2011-09-03T11:45:00.002+08:00

Gugur titis, darah dan jiwa.
Seorang anak, suami dan bapa.
Buat sekilas warta Sang Putra.
Tragedi pilu di bumi Somalia.

Dimamah peluru tidak bermata.
Dipicu jari-jemari angkara.
Bumi rebutan puak sengketa.
Petugas warta hilang nyawa.

Kemana baju tak lut peluru?
Tanpa topi diikat ke dagu?
Adakah cukup latih siaga?
Atau dihantar tanpa sedia?

Untuk liputan cerita Sang Putra.
Jadi sembahan ke pentas media.
Soal, tanya, tagih, minta.
Jangan nasibnya sia-sia.

Tidak disoal takdir dijanji.
Tidak dipipih tugas profesi.
Namun dipinta telus halusi.
Moga ruhnya diberkati ilahi.

Heartstrings

2011-09-01T06:49:00.004+08:00

It is no accident that when people speak of heart touching moments that they would allude to the phrase 'heartstrings'. For truly and indeed, the heart is an instrument.

It's music is emotions and the tones it creates are the very essence of life and human interactions.

The beatings of the heart are the melodies that links each and every moment, the surround sound that permeates and bound us all to the seasons of our lives.

Our duty is to provide the lyrics and sing out what our heart is already playing. Sounding out the symphony of intentions.

But therein lies the disconnect, what our heart sings and what we can actually accomplish.

You might wake up everyday to the heavenly music of the heart, but making it heard, and playing it note for note is another matter...

Sometimes there is just too much noise that you yourself cannot hear your heart's song, let alone convey it to your intended.

At times, the void of distance is too great that all you hear are echoes, and all that the world can perceive are muffled instances.

The heart is an instrument, but its strings oft plays only silence. But then again, we can't all be Mozarts, that would take away its significance.

Sometimes being tone deaf, or the passable pretense of it, is the best way forward.

There is music out there, in the stars, in the mystery of the twilight, but perhaps we are not all meant to see its conclusion.

An ode to the morn

2011-07-17T09:43:00.004+08:00

I was the lonely one.

Sleeping through echoes, the endless lark,
the moldy solitude, lonely sine qua non,
unlit candles, and shriven heart,
the long silence, and requiem's dark.

I woke to sunlight, the warmth of morn,
technicolor tales, of futures borne,
to taste, to crave, to live, to want,
to chase, to give, to feel, to find.

I am the lucky one.

*Dedicated to all my family and friends who have made my life all the more fun

Penyair Tua (Kata-kata buat Pak Samad)

2011-07-16T04:25:00.000+08:00

Penyair tua rundung kelu,
di depan penguasa tongkat dagu.

Apa salah apa dosa,
diheret runtun di caci cerca.

Penyair tua dikerah pergi,
lidah bergari dikasi hati.

Rambut putihnya tidak diendah,
tulisan indah dituduh terjah.

Penyair tua cuba dibisu,
karya digarap dikata melulu.

Tutur nurani diadu domba,
luahan rakyat dikata dusta.

Penyair tua takkan dilupa,
idola gerombolan muda peka.

Biar dicalit diomong noda,
Intan dan kaca terang berbeda.

Penyair tua bagai sangkakala,
penanda kiamat jahiliah minda.

Syairnya enak intinya sasa,
pemangkin tuju penyair muda!

Like the heavens hold the stars

2011-05-15T23:44:00.007+08:00

Upon stars the night does roam,
velvet skies and silver moon,
heavy eyes no rest to find,
but your face inside my mind.

To your name I cast the winds,
midnight breeze on angel wings,
sweet caresses I loose upon,
into your ears to whisper yon.

Your true north my compass show,
as the seas' faith to the shore,
like the heavens hold the stars,
and the mountains praise the sky.

Heart eclipse

2011-04-01T11:04:00.002+08:00

Memories haunts the darkness,
sleepless in the night.
Thy face covers the moon,
eclipsing my heart.

I hate thee!

2011-03-27T00:20:00.002+08:00

@soefira I hate thee! I have thee!
With the fires of a thousand Sorrento suns,
the heat of Vesuvius' ash and the burning Capri sands.

Blue moon wine

2011-03-27T00:01:00.004+08:00

@sheenadin and so the blue moon dripped,
in cups of barley lime, the musty tangy tryst,
exquisite liquid fluid, fucking soft tongue.

My route lies into darkness...

2011-03-26T17:57:00.005+08:00

"My route lies into darkness
edged by horizon's yaw
stilled time bore witness
teeth of oblivion's jaw."

Madah buat Hazwan & Zainor ( Bulan Madu Di Awan Biru)

2011-03-26T12:42:00.003+08:00

Diiring pagi
bagai merpati
dua sejoli
kini bersemi.

Moga bahgia
ke hujung dunia
dara teruna
ikrar bersama.

Ku pinta doa
pada yang Esa
aman selama
kekal sentiasa.

Bermadu kasih
sesuci selasih
pinang di pipih
di susun sirih.

Just as you are

2011-03-10T08:38:00.002+08:00

As the shine and warmth
yellow smile of sun
you light the dark and gloom
make my day all fine.

As the playful roam
the naughty winds up high
you make a breeze of life
gave me cause to smile.

As the moon at night
the soft spoken heart
you soothe the beast inside
make me laugh aloud.

As the stars all bright
the guiding light of soul
you fill the empty parts
make me once more whole.

Into the deep (Provehito in Altum)

2011-03-05T11:24:00.003+08:00

In the deep I find solace
in the dark safely encased
the spark excised hope-dead
reality the only thread

the depths my saving grace
the surface futility sealed
a dreamer forever clipped
broken wings submerged by fate.

The blade well used

2011-03-05T11:23:00.000+08:00

Tis the pommel and the blade
Well-used, oft-wielded
carbon edge, honed
leather grip, toned

sharp of sheen, razor shone
lacerating skin, tearing bone
but the pain it works, last the most
on rejected hearts, forthwith remorse

cold stark steel, dulled-grey hearts
born to feel, eclipsed inside
forlorn worn shorn, teared-up torn
sheathed slashed stabbed, love-lorn.

The rose

2011-03-03T11:17:00.000+08:00

Distance divide us
regulations forbade
this instance of happiness
I cannot evade.

Our eyes keep brushing
quick smiles exchanged
my heart keep singing
your gaze my refrain.

Your voice my compass
your presence His boon
this rose I covet
you and I, to bloom.

2011-02-19T12:44:00.001+08:00

"Let me tell you that I love you, that I think of you all the time"
~ Caledonia

Words and more I have aplenty, feeling like I want to fly
deep within my heart completely, beats the song of you and I.
~ Hazlan

Celtic Woman ~ Over The Rainbow

2011-02-19T05:30:00.000+08:00

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.
There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow skies are blue.
And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true."
~ Over The Rainbow

I cast my dreams aloft, to swim the midnight seas.
A wish to thee I craft, my heart upon shy sleeves.
~ Hazlan

Celtic Woman ~ The Last Rose of Summer

2011-02-19T05:20:00.004+08:00

"Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone
All her lovely companions are faded and gone
No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes and give sigh for sigh."
~ The Last Rose of Summer

If thou art the last of summer, that winter begs to steal
the sun shall I conquer, to bring back warmth and feel.
~ Hazlan

Falling into dark

2011-01-01T19:29:00.001+08:00

Many years go by,
many more than I.
Lonely times of sigh,
as merry laughter die.

And the breadcrumbs falls,
washed away by tears.
Days long gone,
never re-appear.

In memory dances,
what was once real.
The melody prances,
but the pain endures.

Walk I the shadows,
in the river of doubts.
Swimming against tides,
falling into dark.

FALLING INTO DARK

*Audio here

The Gist of Wish: Happy Birthday Sabah

2010-12-22T12:59:00.003+08:00

Tis' a belated wish
the anniversary of thy birth,
my sincere most gist
the profound at thine harbour berth.

To cull the notes of sound
and sing to thee music,
to return to thee by pound
the beauty of a world with thee in it.

Happy Birthday Sabah!

It's been a while. Keep healthy and stay safe. If the fates be ever so kind may it find time to engineer us another meeting.

Else may the 'Que Sera' of time fills our lives with gentle tidings. For as we look back, t'was fortunate to have brushed each other in passing.
...
Hazlan "Albatross" Zakaria

A series of mushy-mushy event

2010-11-21T17:23:00.010+08:00

The person:
My late Dad... Haji Zakaria Hj. Man (Right in picture, yours truly left. During the family Umrah trip prior to his passing.)

The words:
"Terkenang daku, masa yang lalu
tika kau disisi... ku endah tak tahu
...kini tinggal sia-sia, sayang ku rasa
tak dapat ku kata... kau sudah tiada."

The trigger:
The song 'Biar' by the effervescent Fynn Jamal

E.E Cummings' Dive For Dreams

2010-11-18T22:15:00.008+08:00

Dive for dreams
or a slogan may topple you
(trees are their roots
and wind is wind)
trust your heart
if the seas catch fire
(and live by love
though the stars walk backward)
honour the past
but welcome the future
(and dance your death
away at the wedding)
never mind a world
with its villains or heroes
(for good likes girls
and tomorrow and the earth)
in spite of everything
which breathes and moves, since Doom
(with white longest hands
neating each crease)
will smooth entirely our minds
-before leaving my room
i turn, and (stooping
through the morning) kiss
this pillow, dear
where our heads lived and were.

* Diving for dreams... or at least trying to.

Shopping paradise for 'first ladies'

2010-10-16T12:31:00.000+08:00

Discordant voices rose in concert,
to critique Saudagar Najib's mimpi to construct,
a tower 100-storeys in magnitude,
in a KL a-glut with slow-trafficked malls,
unoccupied offices.

But they are blind to his genius,
cheap luxury goods famously branded,
will turn Malaysia into a haven,
a shopping paradise of for 'first ladies',
of all shapes and sizes.

Harken the conference recently held,
the monies spent and pomp ceremonious,
the self-gratification richly laid,
to a 'first lady' not,
who wants to becometh.

Hence the logic neatly compiled,
a new 100 storeys for a mall to fill,
cheap lingerie, perfumes, worked leather and frills,
the thrills that rose Najib to the occasion

Hence another phallic structure rose to fulfill
trusting above KL to rise and instill,
this pride self-evident in the rush to show,
hey Mahathir, my tower beats yours.

A five billion price tag stood,
as one man's one-upmanship brood,
more money than can be mortgaged
from petroleum dwindling, natural wealth drained.

The GLCs are being squeezed
to fork up the billions Najib wants to see
to fund his feel good fashion filled 'discounts'
what 'first lady' wants and fancies.

Political fangs already in their necks,
the GLCs are drained if not strapped,
with more holes poking collapsing jugular,
they will soon go bonkers at the bankers,
more rakyat's wealth poured down the goners.

But maybe this is the last of gasps,
the ruling coalition's final spree,
their bid to strip this country of cash,
clear our coffers before they run free.

Knowing their loss awaiting the ballot,
they deem this chance to turn the maggot
to eat us inside out and thence to flee
departing very rich once they are voted out.

But sadly still if we were to buy this wholesale
accept their goodies at face not value
to say 'we forgive you' and close our eyes
blinded by the gains of cheap thrills and spills.

Are we that shallow? the truth has been told,
as we often return the ballot to their choice,
voting our rights for mere Ringgits in the wallet,
as they get away with billions wrongly pocketed.

To Conrad on his final flight

2010-10-02T13:08:00.006+08:00

They say that we are stranded upon the earth
betwixt mortal grounds and eaves of heaven
...the skies the door to His Grace, the vestibule of His Faith
If such is the case, then birds and avians are His Messengers
who flit and float upon the currents, dancing the windy eddies
those who share that eternal secret, the gateway to paradise and back.

They rise with the sun and dive with the moon, skirting the in-between
delivering His Message to four corners and his boon to yon borders
chirps and happy chuckles singing of His Power, His Praise
the lilt of wings a breezy graceful counterpart to their traipse
But some deign to descend and spend their lives upon the ground
forgoing the free far skies for the company and love of Man(and woman).

Like all angels tenanting, the ranks of heaven-sent messengers,
their time are tied to reason, their praise endears them His Pardon
as all must make the final climb, that flight into the heavens
to break this mortal bond and face of His Benevolence
as we grieve, his time ended, as we breathe, celestial winds churned
let him go, to the crux of destinations, time and place as marked by Providence.

As he was borrowed, so must he now be returned.
Celebrate the memories, ignite the moments
for his time was not to make ye grieve
but to join him in His Praise.

* A poem written to commemorate the final journey of Conrad the Parrot, friend, family member and loyal companion to a dear friend, Janet Steele.

Patung Kaku (translated into English)

2010-09-08T12:37:00.004+08:00

Still, unmoving
in silence standing
saddened by tidings
from ancestral 'steadings

a fire burns
the red in the ears
as vengeance calls
boiling blood stirs

the honour of race
lifeblood of culture
the sacredness of faith
caveat lingua franca

questioned and raised
discarded of value
dissected displaced
stripped of virtue

answer the call
these days of thunder
ride the squall
and come hither

seize the bugle
the pen and paper
join the struggle
with words and valour

be ye the vanguard
the edge and coda
the rising tide
of Melayu Muda.

* Malay version here

A glimpse of RUMI (EACH NOTE))

2010-09-05T00:49:00.001+08:00

A little bit of RUMI to salve Auden's search in O Tell Me the Truth About Love, for there is no answer to what love is, but for the experience and deed of it. You can only know it when you find out and its only description is the notes of its song sung out.

EACH NOTE
by ...Rumi

Advice doesn't help lovers!
They're not the kind of mountain stream
you can build a dam across.

An intellectual doesn't know what the drunk is feeling!

Don't try to figure what those lost inside love will do next!

Someone in charge would give up all his power,
if he caught one whiff of the wine-musk
from the room where lovers are doing who-knows- what!

One of them tries to dig a hole through a mountain.
One flees from academic honors.
One laughs at famous mustaches!

Life freezes if it doesn't get a taste
of this almond cake.
The stars come up spinning
every night, bewildered in love.
They'd grow tired with that revolving, if they weren't.
They'd say, "How long do we have to Do this!"

God picks up the reed-flute world and blows.
Each note is a need coming through one of us,
a passion, a longing-pain.

Remember the lips
where the wind-breath originated,
and let your note be clear.
Don't try to end it .
BE Your Note.
I'll show you how it's enough.

Go up on the roof at night
in the city of the soul.

Let Everyone climb on their roofs
and sing their notes!

Sing loud

Conundrum Coda, 38th movement

2010-09-05T00:36:00.003+08:00

What do you do when you find something great
do you reach out and take it or do you wait?

But reaching out risks losing out
if and when the venture doesn't work out.

While waiting's just too much
to have your heart wrenched
on a regular basis.

Eff Eff Effing it!

Lucky you can always run to your Penang Hermit cave and hide out.

Press "Enter" or "Delete"?

2010-08-29T02:37:00.005+08:00

Eyes wide I roam the silver moon swept skies,
as starlit heavens cried streaks,
forlorn spears striking night's velvet.

Invisible pillars propping eye-lids,
despite countless sheep across picket fences,
endless warm milk chocolate down yawning gullet.

I am restless thoughts feelings memories
strung across omnipotent internet
pudgy listless eyes blinking diodes.
If I search me out, will I then cease to wake?

I walk the world wide web,
halls of digitised heart-mirrors,
perusing why the mind-astray,
caressing night-time-breezes,
sleepless embracing thought-succubi.

I saw you in mirrored surface,
filling mind-eye to brim,
tugging heart messing feeling,
pushing crying wanting,
clear-direct news-tidings.

Your vision haunts.
Lilt of name, caressing smile,
memory-touching depths of soul.
I remain, eyes awake, heaven's wake,
beating heart, yearning hard.

The counterpoint to my thoughts,
a pendulum-duality unrequited.
Mind heart soul intersecting,
wakeful restive pestering.

Shall I seek you out,
end this wild goose chase?
Whose presence seeps soaks succor mine,
throughout the multitude-path cyberspace.

Shall I tell and confess,
the tumult in this heart-cave?
Where I as hermit meditate upon your kiss,
the answer to why I lack sound sleep,
the lullaby to my unfound bliss.

Shall I philosophise the eddies,
of this feel-tide, the gravity that pulls planets,
causing me to fail, to fall, deeper and deeper into debt,
where the currency is sin, the interest ever-lusting.

Shall I dream and dream,
pull out this little string,
grow up go old without knowing the "if" of things?
Or sip upon this wine, of distilled heartbreak,
the sweet probability of which consumes me, I ache.

I gaze upon the mirror-image.
Look-deep into reflected eyes.
Pondering of reaching out and taking the summit.
But is the future this? Shall I retrieve my bliss? Do I deserve your kiss?

Declaration typed, words composed,
hushed-feelings laid bare,
Facebook Twitter Voicemail Text,
eye-caress poetic-gist poem page whisper-kiss.
Finger poised, tap "Enter" or "Delete"?

Absent greetings

2010-08-24T07:05:00.004+08:00

"Walks the hall of heart-mirrors, perusing why the mind-astray, caressing night time breezes, sleepless embracing thought-succubi, I saw YOU in mirrored surface, filling mind-eye to brim, tugging heart messing feelings, wishing I can write this out, in more direct news-tidings."

A reply to a question: R u in love my friend?

2010-07-20T03:46:00.007+08:00

~.~

"I might be, though it could be indigestion, bad humours or something else. But of late I have been experiencing this terrible fondness, and helpless adoration for a person I have just both gotten to know and still don't yet really understand. Then again it may just be gas and too much sushi. For a distance exist between she and I, a gulf too great for age, time, reason and distance to cross. She lies upon the better, perfect side, while I am trapped upon my weird, incomplete shores. Jagged as I am, compared to her perfectly cute surreptitiousness. A belle dancing a tango that I can only hope in dream to join. The slab footed dancer that is me, whose melody is always out of rhyme. She flits, she floats, while I blunder and meander about. The "babe" that she is, would perchance never even notice that I am. Tis' perhaps the forbidden fruit, the one that will never ever be, for all signs portends, that I will never ever will. Sigh... though perhaps that much is true, tis' love at its best and worst. To have felt it and yet never feel its touch. But then again it's 3.33am I am rambling and more than a little sleep deprived. Tis' perhaps nothing, just disguised wisps of wistfulness floating in the night-borne wind."

On the passing of Benjamin McKay

2010-07-20T03:42:00.000+08:00

For a soul transplanted
he was more than apt
a passion for moving pictures
more than matched his step

a bright spot he was
upon a scene he polished
a twinkle of a lark
whose light helped it flourish

good night and good luck
into the other sided veil
the silvery screened contrails
as shiny as his heart

to Benjamin our kind thoughts
may his good humour prevail
his journey star studded
as he blaze new trails.

Langit Jingga

2010-07-10T08:56:00.012+08:00

Nun di sana langit menjingga
wabak wacana hati nan lara,
Urut perkara detik peristiwa
runtun alpa melirik jiwa,

Roh dipanggil mencuit sepi
bagaikan takdir sudah dijanji,
Adakah cucuk dua sejoli
tanggam bertaut jalan selari,

Ini igauan ataupun damba
siang malam silih bersua,
Diraut liut, wajah suara
makin bertaut makin lama,

Istilah pujangga dirujuk kaji
makna teruja dirusuk kiri,
Laut memisah jarak menyepi
namuh pasrah masih bersemi,

Adakah ini namanya cinta
atau hanya buaian mimpi?

Antara Dua Timor

2010-07-09T18:18:00.001+08:00

‎Di antara dua Timor
dilirik indah direnung senja
harapan, doa dan juga syukur
moga aman akhir bahagia

Digaris tinta disepit sempadan
dilorek warna karya bendera
namun warkah setia sekawan
di dalam hati tercantum jua.

Dari Kupang hingga ke dili
dilintas oleh senyum mentari
F-FDTL atau pun ABRI
yang jadi ukur insan dan hati.

Collected FB status messages and comments

2010-07-09T08:46:00.002+08:00

"What greater thing than thought, to beat back the gloom of clime. For no storm nor hazy murk, can best the heart-mind sunshine. What is, is. But what you make of it, are the vessels which holds the best of times."

"... count cloudy puffs o'er waves as the sun sinks past, dipping into night across dreamy horizon, amidst decking creaks and sea gull squawks."

‎"If you do what you love, everything else will follow. Being with one you love, makes everything better."

"I sometimes wonder, how cruel is fate, to have brought into play all the merits of circumstance, only to push away that which I craved for, yearned and want."

"The world takes no notice of defeat, glorifying only the win. Those without surfeits, walks slow alone and grim."

"...hates it when the hero dies, such is the world, but maybe it's better blaze away in glory than to await the inevitable in obscurity."

Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?

2010-07-08T00:43:00.003+08:00

"It lies not in our power to love, or hate,
For will in us is over-ruled by fate.
When two are stript long ere the course begin,
We wish that one should loose, the other win.
And one especially does love affect,
Of two gold Ingots like in each respect,
The reason no man knows, let it suffice,
What love behold is censured by our eyes.
Where both deliberate, the love is slight,
Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?"

~ excerpt from Hero and Leander by Christopher Marlowe

To Christine on her mother's passing

2010-07-03T10:55:00.001+08:00

"Green of grass and blue of skies
the tender gifts God lent to earth
as gentle friends and family ties
whom He loveth more than us

seasons past and years go by
some will he call to return above
though their passing may scar
let their love resonate within us."

Rain of love

2010-07-01T05:55:00.010+08:00

I watch rain drop fall,
rivulets on the ground,
wondering if its turn,
to fall to circumstance.

Like tears they flow,
lining one by one,
as the tempest blows,
spinning them around.

There I see you girl,
at the other end,
across magnet fields,
of this wireless send.

What more can I say,
the rain hadn't done,
open tear my veil,
make my heart go round.

Stuck in my throat,
frozen in my head,
words heart felt,
I think it instead.

Will you join me girl,
will you walk the rain,
let us dance and twirl,
as the tempest sing.

Let me hold your hand,
lips brush your smile,
hope you understand,
though my heart is shy.

I ask you girl,
in the clouds you dwell,
if the rain is love,
will you let it fall.

*Audio here

Happy Birthday Aidila

2010-06-29T19:58:00.003+08:00

Some say you cross the bridge
fine line at twenty-six
to be beyond the gate
wrong side of twenties lilt

but time for thee dilate
the rules they bend and break
the blossom'd years to wit
are sparkles on thy cheeks

passaged time don't chide
they smileth in thine eyes
its wisdom gird thy wiles
attendant to thy smiles

I humbly wish thee this
upon thy remembered bliss
for when the angels deigned
to bless the human race.

What is wrong with Malaysia?

2010-06-25T09:38:00.001+08:00

What is the matter with Malaysia?
what is wrong with us?

building's collapsing
court roofs a-leaking
leaders a-lying
babies a-dumping

taxes a-rising
toll fuel a-climbing
ministers a-flying
public funds a-wasting

what is wrong with us?

see there another
white elephant direct nego
sub money dive under
cronies grow fatter

sports they want to gamble
betting our preamble
while parliamentarians bicker
empty political chatter

roads lie unfinished
cities choked in rubbish
poverty flourish
schools left malnourished

what the PERMATA
first lady my... stars
persian cat who cares
what freedom, where are our rights

ISA stood tall
EO stands ready
DDA will call
hope you are ready

while Pudu Jail's a goner
Kamunting awaits
history may not matter
but Simpang Renggam sits

PPPA smothers
seditious they accuse us
what is the matter
when speaking out the truth

what is wrong with Malaysia?
what is the matter with us?

Mkini: Where we began (Written for Malaysiakini's 10th anniversary in 2009)

2010-06-25T07:18:00.004+08:00

Among the strong-armed, white-wash laced
valueless rags, waste of airtime space
a cry arose, amongst distressed populace
for a mirror, to reflect it's true gritty face

disillusioned editors, journalists, activists
banded to reform, deceitful draconian distastes
a bastion online, world wide web cyber space
a frontier, uncensored uncontrolled undisgraced

a window to truth, curtained by justice
where ethics rule, common sense entail
reflecting flaws, repressive dictates
breaking silence, lifting blinker-veils

A full decade, threads of time has spun
news and view, that need and must be told
the foundation, tis' where we all began
a hope and dream, where walks freedom bold.

Happy Birthday Janet

2010-06-19T19:51:00.001+08:00

Tis' but a joyous moment
the celebrations of thy birth
a present heavenly sent
postmarked and blessed to earth.

May God grant ye a thousand
more such happy days to come
along with such happiness
the days betwixt entwined.

A Farewell to Fiona

2010-06-16T08:00:00.001+08:00

"We glide along like flotsam
adrift upon dreary currents
leaves on windy spirals
intersecting at breezy moments.

Beyond the tepid streams
the wide blue seas are warm
the happy minutes gleaned
are prelude to life-long bonds."

Apparition (an unasked question)

2010-04-04T08:16:00.002+08:00

On lonely roads
consigned choices
memorised misdemeanours
crimes uncounted

routed by chance
to yonder junction
belaboured truths
senses impotent

there she stands
waiting waking wobbling
image apparition
solid stanchions

laddered rungs
salvage salvation
hands out-held
exquisite perfection

will I dare
will she consent
hardened hearts
painful portends

should I attest
breaking silence
into her eyes
beg my passion

or slink away
into distance
steadfast stalwart
resigned to reason.

I love you

2010-03-28T09:13:00.005+08:00

You are here
by my side
waking up
your visage

hair askew
nosy pert
eyes that laugh
wit that smile

my heart yearns
words convey
lump in throat
thoughts unvoiced

I . love . you

The Mind Boudoir

2010-03-19T17:49:00.002+08:00

I kept a distance back
beyond frequent book shelves

spying creamy neck
calves legs thighs chest

curves speaking volumes
magnet to my eyes

pulling my attention
easy flicks strands hair

proving a distraction
roan russet dancing looks

charmingly tinted
fond excited casual loathe

poring over tomes
stacked piled consumed

fingers caressing
soft pages hard covers

I glance to frame
wondering what she imagines

and if I may
her mind's boudoir to enter.

She by Elvis Costello

2010-03-06T16:25:00.002+08:00

"Tis' but foregone, two hearts entwine, or just this dream, a man forlorn?"
~ Hazlan Zakaria

SHE by Elvis Costello

She
May be the face I can't forget
The trace of pleasure or regret
May be my treasure or the price I have to pay
She
May be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day

She
May be the beauty or the beast
May be the famine or the feast
May turn each day into a heaven or a hell
She may be the mirror of my dreams
The smile reflected in a stream
She may not be what she may seem
Inside her shell

She
Who always seems so happy in a crowd
Whose eyes can be so private and so proud
No one's allowed to see them when they cry
She
May be the love that cannot hope to last
May come to me from shadows of the past
That I'll remember till the day I die

She
May be the reason I survive
The why and wherefore I'm alive
The one I'll care for through the rough in ready years
Me
I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is

She
She, oh she

An introspective conundrum

2010-02-14T11:11:00.001+08:00

I sat before this four square screen, trying to find the words to mention. Something which had found within, my ebony heart its residence. Beating a clear tattoo, throughout the irony of my veins. It rides the breathing living lust, which toils the lull within my liens.

I pondered the name by which, this inane itch is called. Hoping perhaps, for its exuberance to be culled. I poised dancing upon the cusps, the identity of this blight. What magicked intransigent spell, into my soul's grimoire inscribed? What language is this persistence, which to mind remains in-unraveled?

I found the answer near to dreams, sidetracked to a place time forgot. A sideshow I closed down and sought to frame with logic thoughts. Tis love it seems, that one time thing I choose regret. What succour it might bring,laid heavy with suffering's debt.

On this day where this emotion is awed, I look down the path beyond time's borrowed flaws. To find myself longing still, the pathways to it brightly lit and opened grille. It is ye I yearn, thou who sits beyond those gates. Calling me to hurry on, and supplicate before thy feet.

"But wouldst thou take the hand, of this jest of so many defeats. A man who seeks to learn what happiness left there is to give. Who is afraid to yearn lest he falls once more upon his feet. Who is afraid to call and ask of ye to wait."

A chat with Rumi

2010-02-14T02:07:00.006+08:00

Today I walked the secret skies
traversing mysterious lady night
caressing her silken velvet skein
against whom light would grow to dark

when I heard the clear silence
the call of still skies beckoning
raising my chin supplicating
I lift the veil to my subconscious

to find starlit Orion offering
baring to me his hunter's belt
which led the way to constellations
the north most star light in the sky

I gaze into the bright of night
to hear Rumi whispering
I listened deep inside my heart
to see Rumi smiling

“Your task is not to seek for love,
but merely to find anon
the barriers within yourself
which rail and toil against”

"Lovers don't meet somewhere
they exist always in each other
love is finding that secret sky
where veils are torn and hearts a-flutter"

"To love one must let go of life
to take that final leap of faith
for only the heart can let you fly
to be the beauty of what you seek.”

Schopenhauer over sushi

2010-02-08T02:36:00.001+08:00

Discussing 'peculiar' Ginseng tea
cultural cutlery conventions
presiding over delicacies
local exotic foreign

her head flipped back
silky strands dancing black
eyes bright interesting
laughter crystal tinkling white

Was Alexander great?
homosexuality in ancient Greece
unraveling catharsis
philosophical liturgical dictates

leaves adorned her
delicious ears soft Gazelle neck
precious worked metals
titillating sensual exquisite

Wild tales culinary escapades
driving crowded Indian streets

sugar toothed Gujerati sweets
ivory teethed Punjabi wheat

mountain top toe nail loss
sleepy isolated Chinese village

her subtly perfumed invisible whiffs
dreamy eyes and sultry lips

I floated yon
drunk upon the moment
looks smiles ideas sentences
feeding hungry baited subconscious

she dished out Schopenhauer
over perfectly parceled Sushi treats
accented English colourful wit
with a Creole-French Mauritian twist.

Music's touch

2010-02-04T04:11:00.007+08:00

It is not thy fingers that brought thy touch, nor thy murmurs caressing my heart. It is the notes the sounds they craft, the melody of songs with words left out.

Sabah's gift

2010-02-04T03:37:00.006+08:00

I am enslaved,
to these tonal caress.
Gentleness' tongue,
tenderness' voice.

Furtive Seraphims,
notes dancing into song.
Sensual to the touch,
elegent perfect.

A breath of colour,
to paint cheeks red.

A dash of moments,
to warm cold hearts.

A whiff of dreams,
link two souls a-part.

I am lost O Lord,
upon the plane of lust.
Misled by the chords,
of these melodic repast.

La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats

2010-02-02T00:06:00.003+08:00

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
Alone and palely loitering;
The sedge is wither'd from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Ah, what can ail thee, wretched wight,
So haggard and so woe-begone?
The squirrel's granary is full,
And the harvest's done.

I see a lily on thy brow,
With anguish moist and fever dew;
And on thy cheek a fading rose
Fast withereth too.

I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful, a faery's child;
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.

I set her on my pacing steed,
And nothing else saw all day long;
For sideways would she lean, and sing
A faery's song.

I made a garland for her head,
And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;
She look'd at me as she did love,
And made sweet moan.

She found me roots of relish sweet,
And honey wild, and manna dew;
And sure in language strange she said,
I love thee true.

She took me to her elfin grot,
And there she gaz'd and sighed deep,
And there I shut her wild sad eyes--
So kiss'd to sleep.

And there we slumber'd on the moss,
And there I dream'd, ah woe betide,
The latest dream I ever dream'd
On the cold hill side.

***

I just thought this apt.

***

There Is Room for You ~ Rabindranath Tagore

2010-02-01T22:31:00.004+08:00

There is room for you. You are alone with your few sheaves of rice.
My boat is crowded, it is heavily laden, but how can I turn you
away? Your young body is slim and swaying; there is a twinkling
smile in the edge of your eyes, and your robe is coloured like the
rain cloud.

The travellers will land for different roads and homes. You
will sit for a while on the prow of my boat, and at the journey's
end none will keep you back.

Where do you go, and to what home, to garner your sheaves? I
will not question you, but when I fold my sails and moor my boat
I shall sit and wonder in the evening, -Where do you go, and to
what home, to garner your sheaves?

This is perhaps Tagore's lesson to educate us to the true nature of longing, of the long and difficult road which brings many hearts together but always keeps them pining. Tis' the way of the world for many, the reason why some matched-up hearts never truly meet, despite the depths by which their souls connect. One always the boatman, the other always the transient beauty.

Nietzsche on company

2010-02-01T22:22:00.002+08:00

To Sabah...

We are always in our own company.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

L'Albatros by Charles Baudelaire

2010-02-01T00:33:00.006+08:00

A beautiful poem by Charles Baudelaire, pointed out to me by a kindred soul. Tis' the arbiter to beautiful tidings and the key which hath verily unlocked my soul. I am keeping it here as a keepsake, future reference, signpost, talisman and pursuance of fate.

L'Albatros

Souvent, pour s'amuser, les hommes d'équipage
Prennent des albatros, vastes oiseaux des mers,
Qui suivent, indolents compagnons de voyage,
Le navire glissant sur les gouffres amers.

À peine les ont-ils déposés sur les planches,
Que ces rois de l'azur, maladroits et honteux,
Laissent piteusement leurs grandes ailes blanches
Comme des avirons traîner à côté d'eux.

Ce voyageur ailé, comme il est gauche et veule!
Lui, naguère si beau, qu'il est comique et laid!
L'un agace son bec avec un brûle-gueule,
L'autre mime, en boitant, l'infirme qui volait!

Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuées
Qui hante la tempête et se rit de l'archer;
Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,
Ses ailes de géant l'empêchent de marcher.

— Charles Baudelaire

The Albatross

Often, to amuse themselves, the men of the crew
Catch those great birds of the seas, the albatrosses,
lazy companions of the voyage, who follow
The ship that slips through bitter gulfs.

Hardly have they put them on the deck,
Than these kings of the skies, awkward and ashamed,
Piteously let their great white wings
Draggle like oars beside them.

This winged traveler, how weak he becomes and slack!
He who of late was so beautiful, how comical and ugly!
Someone teases his beak with a branding iron,
Another mimics, limping, the crippled flyer!

The Poet is like the prince of the clouds,
Haunting the tempest and laughing at the archer;
Exiled on earth amongst the shouting people,
His giant's wings hinder him from walking.

— Geoffrey Wagner, Selected Poems of Charles Baudelaire (NY: Grove Press, 1974)

Mind's Estate

2010-01-31T21:14:00.002+08:00

They came from around the world
to this quaint and little place
a Waverly painted mansion
bodyguard-ed by snow and ice

It sits, beyond the ridge
a sedentary monolithic ghost
for souls whose only desire
is to wallow within themselves

most of them are writers
poetic souls in distress
whose trait and shining hallmark
is a block to their ink-ish repast

in New York it lies
off the lee to Cornell's place
where isolation and snow
would draw you in quite deep.

What I wish I could now say...

2010-01-31T20:41:00.003+08:00

Thou art fresh air, amidst stale doldrums, cheery blue breaking dour clouds, the wet playful raindrops, kissing dry parched broken ground.

Nasihat Jebat

2010-01-31T20:32:00.001+08:00

Setengah abad berlalu sudah
hidup akur lembayung pasrah
membujur lalu melintang patah
patuh tunduk ditunggang tujah

mata litup telinga sekat
dek lakun wayang pidato debat
gah penguasa naik kesumat
penaung tindas rakyat lumat

raja adil raja disembah
raja tamak wajib disanggah
kuasa dan hormat satu amanah
daulat rakyat tuntutan fitrah

pendidik dikelu lidah dikerat
pelajar dikongkong minda diikat
penjaga negara main keparat
pengawal undang-undang jadi alat

bangun berdiri kudrat amarah
nasib si rakyat hak dijajah
suara undi tinta bangkitlah
buka pencak atur langkah

negeri tercinta bumi amanat
dicemar arang diconteng karat
sedar celik nasihat Jebat
ambil jernih buang yang laknat.

Shayne Ward - No Promises

2010-01-24T23:53:00.010+08:00

I was browsing through my favourite songs when I came across this. I remembered a friend who told me of the real formula to finding real relationships. Don't expect anything. As she said, it, if things were to fall into place, they shall.

No promises... apt ain't it?

I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do.

Love indeed is thy Season

2010-01-16T21:39:00.001+08:00

The world is a fragile chain
made of links and links and links
love is the glue that holds
and keeps us all in sync.

Tis' but for ceaseless labours
of ye and ye and all
that keeps us all afloat
a-balancing life's free fall.

People come and goes
off to near and very far
but some like ye O' love
guideth us like twinkling star.

A Pilgrim's Prayer

2010-01-16T21:38:00.004+08:00

Whatever He giveth, tis' within His wisdom,
whatever he Taketh, tis' not without reason.
We implore Him, our Lord, to receive our Intentions,
pray that He accepts,and blesses us with Redemption.

What a Friend is Worth

2010-01-05T01:13:00.001+08:00

T'was a difficult question
to ask what a friend is worth
but tis' not a Maggi's packet
nor the Angiospermae of this earth

It lies somewhere in between
what was, is and perhaps
when "nothing and everything"
did once almost collide

"chance" some might say
but from your very mouth "it's fate"
when a soul became the signpost
to guide another to his faith

how do you describe joys
to those encased in sadness
how do paint the colours
to those whose sight are covered

how do you breathe the freshness
of air to lungs who covet
how do you catch hold of sunshine
and put them in your pocket

tis' difficult to describe
what holds and have you complete
but perhaps to say that its loss
will see you empty, void and irreplete.

Kata-kata buat Syazana

2010-01-03T18:38:00.002+08:00

Pabila hidup merundung malam
redup mendung gelap mencengkam
mentari tidur langit menghilang
pasrah gundah tiada sempadan

bangkit bangun buka tatapan
Di dalam kelam kan muncul harapan
umpama bulan yang Esa kan datang
bagai bintang harapan kan pulang

moga bertaut langit dan bumi
moga tersemai bahagia dan janji
erat tersusun sepuluh jari
moga hidupmu diberkati Ilahi.

A collection of yours truly's Facebook status

2010-01-03T11:33:00.003+08:00

"Almost perfect, awkward pieces, wonder encapsulates. Cherry smiles, jalapeno chides, crystal laughter, sugar'd lips. Dagger'd stares, narcotic gaze, teasing eye-rolls, irises deep. Briskly walk, fragile fingers, deliciously caustic acid wit." ~ Love riddled philosopher on the source of his intoxicating infatuation whilst being sequestered in a cave in the remote mountains to thaw out dangerous emotive toxins.

...wonders if he should just stop procrastinating and just go grab a gun. It's open season... ain't it?

...wishes all and sundry, all the best in all of things, for this next chapter in our days' counting. May fate be kind, your wealth bountiful, may luck fill your days and His blessings your countenance.

"We are on the hunt! Brothers we. Those who seeketh out truth's hidden lee. Finding it's hidden face is our sworn duty, but the chase, dear brother, is our destiny!"

"That which I fear the most, is not that I am wrong. What makes me cringe the grandest, is that possibility that I now woo. Now that's to fear, to ask of one and hear that much sought for, but rightfully feared "Yes!". With a smiling exclamation, mind you. God! I need to run! Now... while I still can, and THAT question, still remain unasked".

...is once more inexorably drawn into a deep dark sojourn into that most elusive state, that sweet bitterness and that terrible awesomeness that weigh you down to the pits of your stomach and yet uplift you to roof all expectations. Sad... really.

...is trying to learn how to drink from an empty cup

"Doubts sprinkled liberally sowed the seeds of many self-inflicted disasters."

...is a sworn brother of the Order of the Tranquil, a passionless breed of silently expressionless men.

...is jealous of the guy who can walk through walls... and steal that which others, yours truly included, sorely covets.

"Frustratingly you can never tell when it all began, mostly you only realize it when you are knee deep in it. Bahh.. HAMBUG! HAMBUG! I am made of sterner stuff! No lilting voice nor dreamy eyes can frame my fearful symmetry! (paraphrasing Blake)." ~ Baron de Hawke

...is in between to shores, riding the tumultous seas dividing them. He has to choose one, which side he is to land on, for time has come for him to forge ahead.

"Twitter me this, twitter me that. For a Facebook nudge and love's sweet RSS."

Avatar Aftermath: Mission Pandora (Intro Chapter)

2009-12-29T08:36:00.005+08:00

Ten hours to go before launch time and as always I am feeling my usual pre-op jitters. But this time it is not about nerves or worry over the trivial. This time it is bigger then most, bigger than the usual mere missions of UN peace keeping operations.

To keep myself together, I try to busy myself with the details, technical pre-op briefs and seeing to the men and women under my command. Fussing over the equipment and armaments, the logistics tail of an interstellar military operation.

I even donned mechanic's overalls and tinkered with my 'Henny'. My AMP II Heinlein Class Titan-suit. Nice to have some physical exercise before the long sleep for the journey ahead.

My 'Henny' is already stowed within the massive double hulls of the interstellar assault carrier UNSV Hera. Joining other Titans of the United Nations Armed Forces (UNAF) 33rd Mobile Armor Battalion which forms the teeth and vanguard of the Pandora Expeditionary Force (PEF)

The newest and deadliest design of the Amplified Mobility Platform (AMP) technology, the Titan was specifically designed for hazardous duty in the unforgiving environs of that far off Alpha Centauri moon.

Bigger, badder and more heavily armed and armored than any military grade AMPs ever. It is the deadliest weapon in the United Nation's(UN) arsenal.

A personification of the Mobile Infantry powered armour, envisioned by Robert A Heinlein for his 'Starship Troopers', earning it the nickname of 'Henny', short for Heinlein's Titan.

There are scarcely a hundred of these deadly robotic behemoths, their construction nearly depleting Earth's remaining Unobtanium supply. Or at the very least, pushing it to near critical levels.

But the need is great and what is at stake is nothing short of the very survival of our species. Humanity itself is at stake. That is why the UN commissioned the PEF.

Our mission, is to retake Pandora.

Pandora...

The moon of legend, the heart to humanity's survival and the birthplace for Earth's struggling recovery effort. The only source in the known universe of the miracle ore, Unobtanium.

Once...

Now it is a hotbed of rebellion. Seat to an uprising by feral natives and a collection of traitor humans. Humans who have forgotten their place and betrayed our species. Those who have 'gone native' and took up arms against humanity's cradle.

It once took six years to travel to Pandora, but we shall get there faster. A new development in Quad-Dimensional Physics have seen the creation of Humanity's first hyper-dimensional drive. Engines that use streams of quasi-dimensional antimatter particles to accelerate to nearly triple the speed of old interstellar engines.

Instead of six, we will get to Pandora in one and a half years... or less. What a shock we shall be to the rebels!

But even one year doesn't seem fast enough. Earth and humanity may only last a decade at most, without new supplies of Unobtanium from Pandora.

The gigantic orbital ark-freighters which houses Earth's surviving forests and the Noah Class zoological ships keeping safe every species of fauna we have managed to save will cease to function.

The massive atmosphere re-claimers will shutdown and Earth's healing process will stop. No more ice shipped from off world to refill once blue oceans. No more explorations of other planets to find new homes for humanity as Earth is allowed to heal.

All for want of Unobtanium... and the selfish wants of feral natives and the ungrateful humans who aids them.

It would usually also take six years for news from Pandora to reach Earth as well, whenever one of RDA's massive commercial vessels make port. But the news of the rebellion in Pandora arrived about two years ago.

Desperate to convey the news of the uprising, the loyal survivors of RDA's mining operations on that far off moon, sacrificed the fuel in their ship's fuel cells and used it to transmit a massive burst of coded sub-space signal to Earth informing of the events on Pandora.

That selfless action was done under emergency executive order by RDA Administrator Parker Selfridge, whilst the ISV Venture Star was en-route to Earth after being evicted from Pandora by the insurgents.

Needless to say the interstellar ship did not survive the ordeal, it's fuel depleted, the ship, it's crew and passengers float lifeless in space. Such sacrifice by humanity's heroes... they will never be forgotten.

Neither would we forget those who betrayed the human race. We... the tooth and claws of the PEF are the just and righteous wrath that shall avenge that betrayal.

It took two years to fast track the Titans and to organize the PEF. But now we are ready. A full third of the expeditionary force will be shuttled to Pandora within the cavernous interior of the UNSV Hera.

Four smaller Pegasus assault landing crafts are piggy backed to the Hera. The largest and most heavily armed combat transport designed for planetfall operations. These will be the workhorse of the PEF. While the Hera maintains orbital beach head and provide fire support and coordination.

The UN Space Vessel (UNSV) Hera is the first in a new class of interstellar assault carriers. The latest in planetary assault technology and equipped with the necessary tools to retake the mining colony or deny Pandora to our enemies.

Bristling with weapon mounts for guns and cannons as well as armament pods for torpedoes, rockets and missiles, the Hera is capable of space to space as well as orbit to surface action.

Not to mention a full third of the PEF complement comprising of aerospace fighters, combat transports, gunships, Dragon II combat command crafts, assorted combat vehicles, ground pounding infantry in tactical armour and not to forget, the 'Hennys'.

In the coming years, sister ships to the Hera, the UNSV Mulan and UNSV Morrigu shall join Hera in the fleet that Earth is sending to reclaim humanity's chance at survival, along with more reinforcements for the PEF.

We will take Pandora back or die trying...

We must do what we must. Unlike those traitors... scientists who have lost their objectivity and went head over heels for the natives. A paraplegic ex-Marine who reveled in his avatar's new found mobility. Avatar drivers who now see through Pandoran eyes, forgetting the roots of their humanity.

They remember not an Earth that lie dying, nor the Great Recovery effort that Unobtanium is fueling.

We shall make them remember and and make them pay!

If all else fail... the Hera or one of it's sister ships will release the ultimate weapon. The experimental Quad-Dimension Physics orbital launched 'BlackHole' bomb. With the power to punch a hole in reality itself, imploding it, to create a blackhole that will destroy Pandora.

If humanity is to be denied Unobtanium and hence it's survival... than so shall Pandora and it's insurgents be denied existence.

"Enough of this musings. I have things to do before I sleep, and millions of miles to go after... the cryo-chamber awaits."

Across The Space

2009-12-28T22:00:00.002+08:00

Across the space between us
the gulf between two souls
I brush you with shy gazes
begging for their return

I speak in stuttered phrases
out of tone and out of tune
trying to bridge the spaces
just looking for a turn

Seek me with your answers
to questions that I do yearn
your smiles are tales and fables
the wit I hope to learn

The landscape of false faces
I am happy to leave behind
the task that I must focus
is to ask for just this once

The tips of your fingers
to brush with those of mine
and hope those tingling promises
could say what my tongue can't

My pen won't ever mention
my keyboard refuse to dream
this story that I reckon
my heart doth really feel.

An Ode To Ellyne

2009-10-06T23:23:00.004+08:00

Beholding you; A sun
with shine in your pocket
courage, your handmaiden
the battles that you have fought.

Understanding you; A puzzle
I try and tried to fathom
intricate, tiny pieces
making up the Ellyne kingdom

Lo! you stand; A queen
the blush brushed moon of night
whose rosy cheeks alight
with your tender-wonderful heart.

To friend and kin; A beacon
through bright dawns, sleepy twilight
the stalwart Lady who beckons
to the best of what's inside.

The printed words; A layer
to the petals, Ellynita
a lady that deems and holds
the pics de lumière éternelle

These words; A tribute
from seasons lies hidden still
an unworthy homage
to the Lady of rose and steel.

@baronhawk concoction 2009.

The Fourth Estate

2009-09-25T09:56:00.002+08:00

Upon the ramparts
the fourth estate
debutantes of truth
handmaiden-ed by facts

walking the beat
step by step
upon sordid streets
honest and contrite

Guided by veterans
been there done that
passing down wisdom
in gentle lively spats

the final bulwark
a last defense
the tinder and spark
to society's conscience.

Words I Cannot Speak

2009-08-26T00:20:00.003+08:00

I am what I am
nothing less nothing more
trying to understand
this fear that I wore

hiding in the midst
of hellos hi bonjour
lies a heart that beats
a soul for only you

words I cannot speak
this poison I sow
feelings that I keep
my eyes try to show

so far only this
is my lighthouse glow
hoping that the gist
would follow to you

my heart is a place
all made up for you
this harbour is safe
if only you knew.

A Near-Distant Chagrin...

2009-06-23T05:28:00.001+08:00

There is a lark that sits
upon careworn shoulders
recalling the mind to wit
telemetry of past blunders

memory mind past-intersects
details missed connections
itinerary and vignettes
unscheduled heart-collision

dry docked ego's conceit
inundated unclear intention
an un-completed ship
a voyage un-undertaken

"I am as I was" he says "still"
trapped within self-prison walls
"nothing and everything" that fails
when push comes to shove all

but a little voice still sing
when "Little Miss Orchid" skips by
sigh ache wish dream
wistful of a conscious lullaby.

"Mana Setangginya?"

2009-06-23T05:25:00.004+08:00

Sebuah puisi jawapan bagi satu pertanyaan mengenai sebuah pementasan berjudul "Mana Setangginya?"

Ellynita Lamin :
meneroka & menanya, "Mana Setangginya?"

Hazlan Zakaria:
"Mana Setangginya?"
Anugerah tuhan pada kita,
setanggi untuk semua,
nyawa nikmat rezeki dunia
berganding ajaran luhur fatwa,
sayang cilik disalah guna,
diolah dendam, rakus, haloba,
hebat manusia tidak ke mana
hanya mainan dunia fana
akhirnya tiada pasca
ajaran untuk manusia alpa.

Bidadari

2009-06-14T02:59:00.001+08:00

Dikau bagaikan mimpi
usapan sebuah memori
bayu menyentuh pipi
bak kucup kasih sejati

Bagai si bidadari
sinar dari ufuk suci
bibir membelai sepi
senyum dua sejoli

Munculmu takdir ilahi
di per-simpangan ini
pasrah dua destinasi
antara kata dan hati.

An Ode To Sheena Upon Her Birth Anniversary

2009-06-12T12:36:00.003+08:00

As the dew's morning kiss,
the dawn's breezy bliss,
a fertile birthday's wish,
upon thy lovely; ruddy cheeks.

A hope that lies await,
seedlings to en-amour fate,
happiness and God's good grace,
upon thine's; life-escapade.

Random Mutterings (June 9 2009)

2009-06-09T16:52:00.005+08:00

"I must admit that my heart still react to any mention of her. That dub-dub dub-dub out of sync rhythm that would accompany each and every living instance and breathing moment of me when sharing the same space with her. It is highly probable that I am still in love with her. Though maybe not in the same way as before. Love never die they say. So while I may not be head over heels in love with her as I was all those years ago, I still reserve a very special place in my heart for her. Ever wistful if not totally missing her as the days go by."

"Waking up recently to a whole new day, I discovered that my current and newer infatuation may be made of more distracting stuff than just a passing fancy. For as I continue my self willed quarantine, to avoid embarrassing failures or troublesome entanglements, my mind turns more and more to thoughts of her well rounded, curvaceous and personable being. Such that thoughts of her even dared to invade into the sanctum of my dream, dancing her way into my most secret mental precincts. The danger here is that more and more I feel like taking her into my arms and giving her a big wet one, the French way."

"I am desperate, there must be something more to this than just common drudgery. I too tired to walk the mile again and chase the grind without some sort of reasonable recompense. I shall put into motion my last ditched effort to find some gain and find my one true aim. That or execute my self destruct sequence one and take the whole world down with me, or as many as I can, as many as I can."

Truth Universal

2009-05-31T22:42:00.000+08:00

Self interest
is lingua franca
the tongue
by which
all men (and women!) speak
"us","them","mea culpa"
so long we gain
they lose/die/fry
ends loose
tied up neat.

Whispers From A Smitten Heart

2009-05-21T03:52:00.006+08:00

"If you are the moon that bathes the dark with your silvery light, then I am the soft velvet curtain of night. If you are the sun that sings the world its radiance, then I am its unconquerable blue haven. In both and either, a supplicant to your grace, hoping to share what my heart speaks."

~ Words by Baronhawk (Hazlan Zakaria) with edits by Sheena Baharuddin

The Dance Lesson

2009-05-21T00:00:00.009+08:00

What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

The answer? Something wonderful. At least that is what I thought it is. As I lose myself fully into the embrace of her arms. Dancing away to the passable music of the dance hall band. It is awkward at best, as my stiff arms and two left feet struggle to keep time with her languorous, seductive and sinewy dancing.

All the while her eyes sought for and engages mine with that reassuring gaze of hers. As my nervous eyes does all it can to look away and look for an excuse to run.

The music thick as the finest malt liquor, drowning me in its beats, caressing me with its melody and intoxicating me within its high. All throughout, I am conscious of her unbelievably delicious hands upon me, her body warm and sensual casually leaning into and against mine as she gyrates gracefully in exquisite dance while I try to clumsily keep time.

It was a stupid move perhaps, bordering on the insane. But considering the circumstance we are in, maybe we tire of the game of which we are unwilling participants in. Inducted since infancy into the opposing sides, myself of the Sanguine Stoics and her to the Clan of Dance.

We are both paragons of our orders. I am the most dedicated of the Steadfast Stoic and she the most unrestrained Sister of The Dance. And yet we find solace in each other, the implacable stoic and the narcissistic queen of dance.

An unmovable object that meets an unstoppable force.

As is only natural orders finally come down from our separate leadership that we both contend with one another so as to prove the true legacy of our race. Both clans asserting its right of philosophical ascendancy.

A fight to the death.

We have contested many times since the orders were cut. Most times resulting in the death of many. Members of my coterie and her entourage. Cut down in countless battles from which we both came out unscathed. For we are evenly matched.

But throughout our battles, a strange relationship blossomed, and in many cases we would meet upon the roof tops of Idea City, firstly to duel privately, so as not to lose lives unnecessarily. Later on to talk and as it turns out to somehow fall into each others' company.

I know not what to call it, love, camaraderie, friendship. But it is something real that grew from our many opposites.

There were ancient rumours of this, of a third option open to our race, not to follow one extreme or the next, but to meet somewhere in between. Something, or perhaps some place, that she and I have found between ourselves.

But this is no longer our choice. Those of us dedicated to the order and made for a life of service. The ever suspicious elders on both sides found out of our dalliance and so here we are today, ordered to a final and fatal confrontation. Under threat of excommunication, we agreed to meet one last time in the Dance Hall that we so often observed from our hiatus on the rooftops.

I remember how she would dance a little ditty as the music drifts to our lofty hideout and explain to me how music and dance is the core of he soul, while I struggle to show her why silence and tranquility is mine.

We made a pact, that someday before the end, we would teach each other of what the other meant. She would take me to a dance hall for a dance lesson while I would attempt to educate her about steadfastness and stoicism.

So here we are dancing to the music of the dance hall band as we stand at the cusps of the final day on earth for one of us. My coterie and her entourage scattered around the dance hall in nervous knots of hardened philosophy war veterans struggling to fit in with the partying crowd of lessers.

Here we are for my 'dance lesson.'

I find myself unable to assemble any logic from this. I find myself overwhelmed by something which I have no experience with. She said its okay, she calls it feelings. I am unsure, how can something feel so good and so painful all at once.

Doubting myself once more I wonder if the Stoic Elders are right. Maybe there is great evil in this.

But all it took is just one look from her dreamy eyes and a slight squeeze of her fingers on my shoulder and waist to reassure me of the reality that is before me. This is not something that I would want see undone.

A buoyant feel seem to fill my senses. A happy warmth that floods my being. I am probably the happiest and most contented that I have ever been. Right there encircled in the arms of the dancing queen.

But life is not always fair, and bound by contradictions. I must now teach her of steadfastness and stoicism. A lesson which she may not like at all, but the only way I can ensure that she and the child within her, my child, survives our forced meeting.

She looks at me quizzically as thoughts pass through my mind and distracted me for a while from the beauty of her eyes. I smile at her and steeling myself, place my lips in a kiss upon her forehead. Then my lips pause by her ear as I tightened my embrace of her and whisper into her ear, "Be well my love, for the end comes soon and your lesson in steadfastness and stoicism with it."

"When, my love?" "My love... I like the sound of that..." she quips caressing the word 'love' exquisitely with her pronunciation of it.

I close my eyes and sigh aloud, trying to keep my newly acquired emotions in check. "Soon my love... soon. After the music ends."

Then, I force myself out of her delicious embrace and stand before her waiting for the music to die down.

No sooner when the music ended that we finally realize that we now have to take our proper places in the scheme of things, not to dance in each others' arms but to fight across the divisions of our clans... that immutable line equivocally drawn between the un-living and those who pursued living to the fullest. My Katana slid out of its scabbard as her twin stilettos emerged from their sheaths.

The tell tale screeching hiss of cruel metal blades resounding throughout the dance hall as my faithful coterie and her loyal entourage did the same. Blades akimbo, we threw ourselves into that deadly dance of death, as musicians and patrons of the club ran pell mell into the dark of night, trying to get away from the quickening onslaught.

We are too evenly matched, so much so that I know neither one of us will prevail against the other in a straight fight. But if none prevails, we both risk death at the hands of the inquisitors of both our orders.

That cannot be... not for my queen of the dance.

Thus I wait until she is caught up in the throes of her death dance, her whirling twin stilettos surging through the air towards my body in lightning fast stabs.

Judging that the moment was right, I deliberately let down my Katana and ignore my guard, surrendering my chest to her stilettos. I can feel the puncture wounds begin and their organ shredding rush as the motorized blades shreds into my exposed and unarmoured chest. I deliberately did not wear my chain mail undershirt for just this moment.

Time seem to stop as a blinding pain courses throughout my body. I feel myself crumple towards the floor and saw the anguish on my dancing queen's face. Everything became a blur compressed into that single moment. I can feel my lifeblood seeping out of my gutted chest, but strangely I no longer feel any pain. Just a cold numbness that slowly spreads all over my body.

I find myself cradled upon my dancing queen's lap. I look up into her eyes and smile at my love. She smile back at me, despite the tears flowing from her eyes and the sobs that threaten to overwhelm her.

"It's the only way my love. And my lesson to you. Be steadfast my love... be stoic", I manage to gurgle out to her in between my gasping intake of breath. "Go to our roof top hideout, there is a package there. Travel papers for you and some cash. Flee to the hinterlands, stay safe.... keep our child safe..."

Afterward there was another blinding flash of pain and then... darkness.

Thus end my lesson for my beloved and my time upon this earth with her.

...
...
...

Or so I thought... but that is another story.

A Friend of Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa

2009-05-17T13:03:00.004+08:00

I usually stay away from modern interpretations of classic Malay works after the hack job that to me PGL was. A bloody butchers knife that rips into one several Malay Legends, uncanny of a Jack The Ripper, and then sewing them back together again incongruously like some monstrosity of Frankenstein's, or perhaps the botched job from a script writers mis-inked pen.

I guess being someone that read the Malay Hikayats in their original form, at least the DBP produced versions, I feel some loyalty to the purity of those works. There are licenses for creative reworkings and poetical larceny, but perhaps there are limits that must be observed.

But cautious as I was, when a dear old friend Ellyne invited me to join a group of her friends to watch the play Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa currently playing at Istana Budaya's Lambang Sari, I agreed for it was a good opportunity to catch up with old friends and new acquaintances and of course have a relaxing night off from work.

More so because a couple of her friends with whom I am acquainted with are involved in the production. The graceful Miss B.B. Adam shed her tight leggings and flashy dance moves for this production to put on a more dictatorial mien of Producer, while the lovely Miss Nyza Zaini adorns the play as a member of the cast.

The play is written and directed by former journalist Marina Tan whose professes that her aim is to bring out this engaging classic tale of "Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa" into the mainstream and show it for the enjoyable adventure it really is. The tale is based on the hikayat mentioned above.

It was a decision that I am overjoyed to have made.

Contrary to my worries, the play keeps alive the story and message of the original, albeit packaging the tale in humour and a more modern theme.

Opting for a more symbolic bare props approach, the play nonetheless portrays and creates the atmosphere of the setting quite well.

I personally like the use of the shadow play of the backdrop using props and light to set the scene. A lone pillar for Byzantine, a lone bonsai tree for china, a single palm tree for the islands and the various other shadow for other scenes.

It is certainly a whole barrel of fun to watch.

Nyza Zaini steals the show for some part of the play, her depiction of Lao Lao is not only believeable but adds a kind of zest to the story that energizes scenes and at many junctures actually moves the plot along.

I love her "Chinese lesson" bit with Darat and Laut the most, and I bet all in the audience appreciates her role of matchmaker in distracting Darat and Laut and making sure Merong and Dewi Embun got their 'girl meets boy' moment.

But her opening scene soliloquay and constant tussle with the princess' hair is a darling to all as well, I am sure.

Speaking of Darat and Laut, Marina Tan really do know her Shakespeare I suppose, or her Hindi movies. For these two wild and crazy characters are the classic comic relief common to many writing style across cultural boundaries.

Darat and Laut, two country coots that provide innocence and comedy to the play. But on a more symbolic sideline, their fast friendship with Merong may represent the General's affinity over the two elements, Darat being earth and Laut being sea, as opposed to him not wanting mastery of the Sky as Garuda feared.

Princess Ling Ling and Prince Justinian were okay, being what they were written out ot be, two love struck lovers in love. While the actors carried their role well, there is nothing more there, maybe because of the way the script was written.

Same goes for Jentayu and Kakaktua. Both fills out well in their roles but doesn't really stand out. Though Kakaktua does have the potential to be a seneschal characters like in the Disney movies, Sebastian the Crab in The Little Mermad for example. Though for some reason I see him settling down in the end with Lao Lao.

As for the villian Garuda, I find him lacking in the evil laughter department, but maybe only because I believe I have an evil-er laugh. But nonetheless, I did leave the theatre wanting to bash Garuda's head in and I suppose the actor did his job well.

Merong Mahawangsa is my favourite of all, though I do find the plays simplistic depiction of this brooding General a tad shallow. There is much to be gleaned of the depths of this man. But I suppose it is fine, given the context of the play.

I guess this is mainly because I personally identify with the General and faced similar difficulties. Ha ha ha. Yes, for me too it is mind instead of heart and like as opposed to love.

But the actor carried the role well, swinging between the candid comedic moments and the stormy seriousness of the man.

I especially like the part near the end where he was trying to deny his attraction to Dewi Embun and his intention to stay with her. Alas, oftimes reality wears a different cloak than this romantic comedy.

Saving the best for last, the paragon of the play is in my humble opinion the fine depiction of Dewi Embun. Descended from Gergasi or no, she is one petite and lovely nymph. It is the fluttering eyelashes and low toned voice that reaches out into many a heart.

I must confess that Merong was not the only 'general' that would have stayed behind with her that day. If I had not had another appointment after the performance, there would be a duel outside in Istana Budaya's parking lot between Merong and yours truly over the ownership of a certain Dewi Embun's heart.

Or maybe there is another queen, also beatuous and fey-born who holds ownership over this general's heart?

All in all, it was a wondrous occasion. Though cut short by an appointment in Putrajaya that I forgot about. I had to rush off after the play, forgoing a chance to mingle with the cast and friends alike. Though sometimes I wonder if I deliberately forgot about the appointment so that I can rush off, and avoid another mingling and socializing with my fellow human beings.

I do tend to be quite the hermit nowadays... a recluse from many things.

Luckily the Salak Expressway was nearby and via its length did I straightly shoot into Putrajaya's fine precints.

A trivia; if it is Salak Expressway, shouldn't it be SEX? ha ha ha.

All in all a jolly fine experience, that craves soo much for a boon. That I would wish you all to go and watch this play for it is a vision that you would and will enjoy. I guarantee it, such that I shall kidnap your pet if you don't! Ha ha ha.

Adieu and adieu my friends, till the winds of fate brings us back together.

YOUR Love (WIP)

2009-05-12T11:21:00.004+08:00

There is this little voice
that speaks eloquently
inside my head

telling me this little tale
of a heart that seeks
its counter part

a buoyant touchy feel like
whose only recourse
lies upon a touch

an empty vacant vessel
that lies in wait
for your repast.

Dr. Saeb Erakat on Benjamin Netanyahu’s speech to AIPAC

2009-05-06T16:51:00.003+08:00

Press Release
For Immediate Release

May 5th, 2009

Negotiations Affairs Department Palestine Liberation Organization

Dr. Saeb Erakat on Benjamin Netanyahu’s speech to AIPAC

Chief Palestinian Negotiator Saeb Erakat today commented on Prime Minister Netanyahu’s speech to AIPAC, in which Netanyahu called for a ‘fresh approach’ to peace between Palestinians and Israelis.

“Successive Israeli governments have failed to implement their obligations under existing agreements. When Netanyahu speaks of a fresh approach to peace, implementing Israel’s obligations under existing agreements is precisely the fresh approach that Palestinians and the international community expect of his government,” Dr Erakat said.

“This includes an immediate freeze on all settlement activity, particularly in and around occupied East Jerusalem, and lifting all restrictions on freedom of movement and access for Palestinians both in and out of, as well as within, the occupied Palestinian territory, including an immediate end to the siege on Gaza.”

“And Netanyahu must explicitly endorse the establishment of an independent, viable and sovereign Palestinian state, which remains the cornerstone of the two-state solution. Negotiations for their own sake, without a clearly defined end goal, are no substitute for a just and lasting peace.”

“A commitment to past agreements, and implementation of Israel’s existing obligations, will create the environment needed to rebuild the legitimacy and credibility of the peace process, and send a message that the Palestinians have a partner for peace.”

Dr Erakat said that economic prosperity for Palestinians rested on Israel ending its occupation.

“Economic development is a right to which Palestinians are entitled, but which they have been denied as a result of Israel’s occupation,” Dr Erakat said.

“Israel’s regime of checkpoints, road blocks, permits, settlements and the construction of Israel’s Wall, which fragment the occupied Palestinian territory into isolated cantons and strangle all freedom of movement for goods and people, remains the major obstacle to economic development for Palestinians.”

“Without a political settlement, meaning an end to Israel’s occupation and the establishment of an independent and viable Palestinian state, talk of economic peace will be seen for what it is, namely an attempt to normalize and better manage the occupation.”

The MOON -- Ellyne

2009-05-02T14:06:00.001+08:00

effortless you shine
mysterious majestic
complimenting night

The WIND -- Meemaa

2009-05-02T13:10:00.005+08:00

soft subtle sly spry,
breathing blowing caressing,
absent yet there still.

Buat Ulangtahun Ke-Enam Azleena & Suami

2009-05-01T09:11:00.000+08:00

Bagai merpati sireh dan pinang
Dua sejoli terbang ke hulu
Allah berkati umur yang panjang
murah rezeki ke anak cucu.

Dua sejoli terbang ke hulu
singgah sarapan di pohon sena
hingga kini darilah dulu
ke masa depan aman bahgia.

Singgah sarapan di pohon sena
buat santapan unggas rimba
Kata ucapan dari hamba
seorang kawan tumpang gembira.

I Am The Tweet-er King!

2009-04-28T11:54:00.008+08:00

Well, not really...

but I did turn this:

Hazlan Zakaria commissions an excavation into the fortress ruins. Searching the labyrinthine halls for the soul library and its tome of understanding. Possibilities keeping his brain a-buzz and heart a-racing. He ponders the statue of the armoured figure in the fortress courtyard. How it seems to be smiling. Isn't this the lair of the somber? The last holdout of the sad king?

...into this:

I search the ruin of my soul for understanding. Wondering why I am still smiling. Am I not the somber sad king?

In order to fit it into The Malaysian Poetic Chronicles' tweet.

From 379 to 111 word count, including spaces.

Quite an exercise in editing. As The Chief Chronicler at The Malaysian Poetic Chronicles Leon puts it "Edit! Edit! Cut! Cut!"

It is an eye opener of sorts, now I know better what my Senior Editor Hani always felt, every day actually. As she struggles to make my work better and give it that extra... swell. As only she can.

I guess I do have this tendency to say things in an imaginative if roundabout way. It would do me well to sometimes be more direct.

Snip! Snip! Snip! I am still a long way from becoming a true-blue journalist let alone full-fledged editor.

Haruskah Kunyanyikan

2009-04-26T21:51:00.014+08:00

Haruskah ku nyanyikan
perlukah ku katakan
segala dalam prasaan
hati yang telah tertawan

Hadirmu bagaikan salju
mengubat luka hatiku
suaramu bagaikan bayu
membelai melirik kalbu

Bagaikan mengejar bintang
menunggu bulan mengambang
kisahku terpandang-pandang
terkelu bila kau datang

Matamu memberikanku
harapan curi hatimu
senyummu meminggir ayu
memanggil-manggil diriku

Tapiku tiada kuasa
depanmu ku hilang punca
tuturku menjadi perca
dibuai kelu dan alpa

Bagaimana kan aku
luahkan rasa hatiku
apakah kan kau tahu
cintaku terhadapmu

Perlukah kulaungkan
kepada bintang dan bulan
semoga angin malam
membawa rasa terpendam

Kulampir sebuah lagu
kugubahkannya cintaku
buatmu puteri hatiku
semoga kau akan tahu

Kunyanyi dan kudendangkan
lagu ini berkumandang
aku cinta padamu sayang
sudi kau panggilku abang?

* Audio here

Kata-Kata Buat Fynn

2009-04-26T21:48:00.002+08:00

Keramat puisi pujangga minda
srikandi Fynn pelopor budaya
meliuk seni melakar bahasa
mendukung tari irama kata.

Salam selamat ikhlas di tinta
dari saudara setutur sebangsa
moga berjaya di atas persada
aturan pencak rentak dan nada

Lagu Untuk Syamilah

2009-04-24T23:47:00.003+08:00

Tiada indah dari dunia
alam hijau ciptaanNya
embun luhur usapan jiwa
bayu halus santapan alpa.

Tiada aman lunak suara
gelak tawa anak gembira
riuh rendah irama sempurna
keluarga indah anugerah dariNya.

Tiada tenang hati dan jiwa
selain tutur ayat kalimahNya
tasbih suci ibadah mulia
mendamai hati mencuci jiwa.

Swan Song

2009-04-18T23:49:00.010+08:00

As I type these words, I know that they will probably be my last. The only worthwhile and hopefully lasting legacy, that I have to leave behind.

I have never thought much about it, first as a Corporate Mercenary in the Resource Wars and later on as a Hunter. Death seems to lurk behind every corner. I have thought that for me is a soldier's short life and the inevitable sudden violent end.

It is ironic, that my desperate and accidental stint with the resistance did actually woke within me this need and want for life. This huge capacity for love and an unbridled yearning to savour all that this world have to offer

It is as if I have never been truly alive before.

Never before...

Not before that long cold night in the Bavarian cemetery and subsequent return trip aboard the hovercopter to the Hunter Stronghold in Geneva. When I had my long and fateful talk with the Vampire Ancient Maximilian Tchaikovsy.

Good old Max.

Damn him and his suave words. I never did find out why he did what he did and why he chose me. All Max would tell me is that he saw something in me.

Cryptic to the last, his only comment was that he had a foretelling. That I was the one. The mortal that shall tip the scales of balance. Or was it back into balance? One can never be sure of a Vampire's words. And Max being Max, he was always slightly more obtuse than most, even amongst the Ancients.

Though I have grown fond of old Max, accustomed to his friendship and our long rambling talks.

I am going to miss him.

He came to visit me yesterday. Appearing suddenly out of the fog of night, as is the way of his kind, as I was manning my turn at watch on the ramparts above the bunker.

It was he that told me of the approaching enemy that wil soon extinguish me from this existance. He offered me a way out. Sly as always, he baited me with the fact that death will find me even if I somehow escaped this final trap. He offered me a place in his coterie, everlasting life and escape from my inevitable fate.

Unlife as one of the arisen.

I declined.

I would not want to lie now that the end is near. Yes, I am afraid of what may come, more than a little terrified actually. To pay this price that all living beings must finally succumb. But a distant part of me is intrigued to see what comes next after the end.

Though as the knowledge of my soon to be demise quickens within me, I feel strangely at peace with myself. I have seen much these last few years. Miracles and horrors that defy description. I have done and experienced things that most humans can scarcely even dream of.

I have lived and experienced life. More in these short months than ever before.

Yes I am afraid, but I am also quite content.

So I declined Max and his kind offer.

He told me to reconsider, for Sharna's sake at least, he pleaded.

It was then that I told him the heartbreaking news, that Sharna had already passed beyond the veil the day before. Her blessed life taken by a sniper's bullet as she led the last of the resistance's scouts in an effort to screen our retreat into the coms bunker.

Ironically my beloved was slain by another Sister of Skirmish, one of her own. The fatal bullet fired by one of the recruits that she herself trained when she still fought for Hunter Corp. When she was their best and most heartless assassin.

I know, for it is I who killed her assassin. Arriving in the hovercopter to rescue her and her team only to find their killers in the midst of finishing off the mortally wounded scouts and my Sharna dying.

When I first saw her, she was an assassin sent to kill me, now she lies cold and lifeless, in the medlab, her life given to protect my own. That is perhaps the greater irony.

Though come to think of it, the heavy assault Hunter Squads that will be coming to attack the coms bunker I am in and execute the kill order that is upon my head, will probably be the ones that I trained when I was a Hunter. They always send the best.

Always...

But regardless of who killed my Sharna and is going to kill me, at least she did not die alone, she died in my arms, the arms of her newly wedded husband. We decided to be wedded in the last few moments before the retreat. Dragging Ustaz Rahman out of his tent in the dead of night to sanctify our marital union.

Sealing our matrimony with the strangely unhurried lovemaking that was surprisingly tender and gentle, despite the pre-battle frenzy and our pent-up and close held desire we had for each other for so long.

Husband and wife for scarcely a day and a half. But I guess, in our case, it was a life time.

It was enough.

Though, the memory of her pretty face, sweet smile, soft smooth skin and sultry voice still threatens to unman me with tears every time I am reminded of my darling Sharna.

If he felt anything at all, Max never revealed them to me. But was he perhaps taken aback? Sharna was the only offspring of his great-great-great-great-great grand daughter, from the time before he was turned.

The only progeny he had that were the legacy of his loins than were his fangs.

Vampires are sterile, procreation to them is only through infecting other living beings and embracing them into their fold.

Max took it all in stride, philosophical as always. He said that it is sad that all that is best, good and noble of humanity are the ones that will suffer and perish, while the wicked and the evil ones thrive and survive.

Though maybe he was numbed and devastated by Sharna's passing. Even Vampires Ancients are not immune to emotions. Did I detect a slight tremor in his normally cool and frustratingly dry voice?

Whatever it was, it is something that I will never find out.

We bade our farewells, old Max and me. Punctuating our comradeship with one last long discussion about life and death. And everything else in between those two pivotal moments of a human's lifespan.

In a way, I think he envied me my coming respite, for he is doomed to carry on without the opportunity of that final rest nor the ability to truly savour life upon this sun swept world.

Max left slightly before dawn, vowing to avenge Sharna's death and my upcoming demise.

But now I too must bid my final farewell and end this missive. For I hear the crack of the big artillery guns from afar and the ever closing explosive thumps of the plasma artillery shells as they pound upon the bunker's shields.

It will not be long now before the shield falls and the hunters move in for the final kill.

Not long now...

Attached with this final missive is a data matrix that I and the members of the resistance have fought hard to compile these last few months. In the matrix is all the proof of the conspiracy between WorldGov and Hunter Corp to mislead and make use of the public for their own ends.

Including the statements of reliability and cover-up orders that followed this outrage against humanity.

First and foremost of which is the sealed report on the "Standard Normal Deviation" which has so doomed a percentage of the population of the end users of para-products to their dismal fates.

I am now activatng this data burst transmission to all WorldComs stations. As this bunker is part of the backbone WorldComs grid, this transmission will reach throughout the world and hopefully to all receiving stations.

I... we have done our part, now it is up to you. Brothers and sisters of the armed forces, it is time for you to turn your guns upon Hunter Corp and the corrupt WorldGov. It is they who are the real enemy of humanity.

And to the general populace, now is the time for truth, now is the time for you to know the real story. Raise your voices, raise your hands and correct this wrong that has been done upon you.

I leave you now to better times than mine was. I guess all that is left now is to pick up my rifle and join what's left of the resistance in our final stand. To buy time for this transmission to reach out to all of you.

Farewell... and good luck.

The Lonely Road

2009-04-12T04:24:00.013+08:00

The lonely road, calls for me
that same, old sensation
an open door, that beckons he
a heart, afraid to listen

evening breeze, blew away
miles, in the-other direction
upon the asphalt, footsteps lay
hiding, behind the distance

dusty trail, marks the way
broken, hopes and dreams
left behind, from day to day
a road, fate has deemed

so I walk, the lonely road
pain, a bitter memory
far away, from the-one I love
against, what my heart breathe

an empty man, with hollow heart
afraid, to let it heal
a lonely man, with hurt inside
afraid, to once more feel.

Searching (Work In Progress)

2009-04-09T03:29:00.006+08:00

I search for you at night
in the dark
when the whole world sleeps

hoping humble starlight
will unlock
the truth only you keep

I borrow from the moon
its seat
patient upon the zenith

scouring the inky loom
for bits
and pieces of faith.

The 'Briar Patch' of Life

2009-04-05T08:36:00.005+08:00

I know I have vowed never again to let it happen... but there it is again.

I have been sidetracked of late, by noble causes and less than noble intentions.

Consumed by a battle that is not even mine, and embroiled in a war of which I was not even belligerent in.

Distracted as if by somber beauties from across the crowded dance floor, and derailed by their lilting tell tales of a thousand sleepless nights.

Aye, those are truly sweet nectar, that adrenaline rush of fighting for a cause, that indelible rut of a man enamoured.

But herein lies the causality of much pain, the Briar Patch of life.

Something which is better left untouched unless it is something that a person really wants and is willing to go the distance. Maybe I am all the above, considering the circumstance, but still I digress, for the lessons of previous pains beseech me and courage be damned, I dare not yet step into the lion's den and leave my much favoured sanctuary.

Sensuous, sinewy and sexy lionesses be damned, triply damned and thrice censured.

I must return to the core, to the very center of what and who I am. I must return to what I was. Status quo, without the quo vadis. For I have long ago discovered that the best condition for me is not to have any direction, but to float and hover in that blurry space just outside of mainstream life, yet still close enough to watch it.

For I am above all an observer of things. One who watches and compiles his analysis.

That being said, while I often abandon battlefield engagements before the war's conclusion, such as I am afraid now must be, there are some things that I just cannot leave undone. That I shall oversee until such a time as it is mine to sneak back into the sunset.

Not that it would matter, but principles must count for something, even for one who is detached from life such as me.

But in the end the only thing that matter is that "I am a Fortress, Strong and Impregnable."

I must be... I have no other choice.

I Miss Those Days

2009-04-04T00:32:00.004+08:00

I miss the sea
its wavy ripples
sunny glints
and cozy curls

I miss the shore
those sandy walks
warm-cool sand
sinking footsteps

I miss the breeze
its gentle kisses
soft caress
silky breath

I miss the sun
its hopeful rise
elegant rest
soulful warmth

I miss those days
I miss you
I miss me
I miss us.

From This Side of The Kayako

2009-03-30T14:16:00.005+08:00

I am handling a crisis remotely from home. A work related crisis. One that requires me to access our service provider's support system. A usual enough experience I suppose for someone whose work involves interacting on the world wide web.

But in my case it also triggered a case of preudo-nostalgia, especially after I realized that the support system I am accessing to handle the issue and its resulting support tickets is SupportSuite by Kayako.

In my previous career incarnation, I was attached to local software house, AzrulStudio (Azrul.com), a unit of Slashes & Dots Sdn. Bhd. One of the things I do there was to handle incoming customers support tickets on our very own customized Kayako support system.

I mainly handled the business development, copy writing, manuals and business correspondence side of things but we all contribute to handling support tickets. It helps us understand our customers more and develop a rapport with them. Something useful where ever you are (software development or business development) as it helps you to be able to deliver what the customers want.

It is strange, being on the customer side of the Kayako-curtain. My mind's eye painting the familiar scene of personnel on the other side frantically answering one tickets as several more 'dings' in on the ticket counter.

My imagination tracing its route as my ticket waits the ticks of the clock for its turn. Trying to understand their busy schedule and hectic situation.

But in the end, I guess being a paying customer on this side of the Kayako, I can't really care less what their issues are. Time is money, especially so if you are operating a business on the net.

Something that was drummed into me by my customers last time, especially the difficult ones from overseas, where the customer is always right, even when they are wrong.

But I do appreciate the care when ever a customer service representative took the extra effort to be proper, correct and pleasant especially since I do know how hectic it can be for them.

My particular tale dealt with the transfer of our hosting and some domain nameserver issues. I had to deal with Glowhost and local firm SKSA Technology. I am happy to say that both companies responded in a timely and pleasant fashion.

There is something to be said about professionalism after all.

I guess being once on the other side of the Kayako, I expect the same level of service that I used to dispense when I am on the customer side of the Kayako interface.