Baronhawk's Nest

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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 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

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.

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"?

"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."

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.

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?

"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."

"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

"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."

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

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 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?

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.

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.

"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."

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.

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

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.

"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

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."

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.”

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.

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.

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.

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. 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.

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)

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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."