Why...

As each photo tellingly passes

I lean over + squint my weary eye

I reach for the old man glasses

And leak out a huge huge sigh

For amidst all the masses

Never... , never once I saw I 

I sigh ...

I sigh ...
not sure why.

Thinking,
heavy heavy moping.

I tear,
behind a gentle weir.

Reminiscing,
momentous reconciliating.

I sigh ...
not sure why.

One Wafty Teh Tarik Morn

I sat with ipod connected to the heartstrings;
teh halia wafting its fumes in my direction;
observing pairs of eyes doing their rounds;
wondering what thoughts lies beyond the orbs.

Are they filled with the same old worries?
What tales will their masters let regale?
Do our weary feet walk the same paths?
Do our weary hearts flit to the same tunes?

Are the gazes caught, fleeting tenuous chaff?
Astirred, I trap and savour these moments;
lest they slip through the temporal cracks;
lest our paths will never again meet ...

Midnight Showers

Last night;

I saw the midnight showers
that pelted my heart panes.


This morn;

I thought they came to wash away the pain
but it is still there, still gnawing away.


This minute;

I wait for the fabled storms, on a uprooting spree.
No more pallid showers on a midnight train.

The River of Wo

It has been a while since Wo last visited. Checking with the timekeeper, it has been more than five months since Wo last posted. Life has been kind of slow moving lately. Yes, very much like a river.

Wo have been itching to write about this ever since it dawns on him that he has been living life like a river. In fact, most of the denizens of his time are. Wo is in the middle of his meandering course through life. Gone are the days when his girth were lithe and sinuous and life was one rapid after another. The rush of youth that sweeps all before him. No obstacle too onerous to overcome. The impatience of youth that conquers all.

But the meandering bulk that is he, has been slowly grinding itself to a halt as it traverses the ravages of time. The baggage and debris that has been collected through the years slows him down. Life is no longer a challenge. His life flows over a flatter landscape now. Flows over the path of least resistance and let the flotsam of life overtakes and leaves him in its wake.

Sensing his slow decline into the inevitable jaws of the blue blue beyond. Wo knew that it is time to change the course of the languid juggernaut that was his life. So he grabs hold of life's reins and pulled life into a virtual standstill while he ponders on his next move...

So he prays to God to provide him with wisdom and clarity to tackle the task ahead. He strips the leather welts from his tote bag and wraps them tightly around his midsection and retreated into the darkness to fast and pray. Time stood still for 40 days and 40 nights as he went fishing for answers in the murky cesspools of his mind.

But the answers hid themselves until the very last day. where through the perpetual veils of obfuscation, they punch through, riding on pure shafts of light that encircle Wo and pierce him all over. And within the gleaming spiky orb that was Wo, the answers wrapped themselves around him as unyielding as the welts around the body. When he opens his eyes, Wo realises that before him was the new Dawn.

And without a word, he pulls out his leather journal and carve out these words:

Gather no dirt;

Leave the flotsam behind.

Go slow but enjoy the view.

Go fast, with open eyes.

Straighten your course,

when going is slow.

Chart new courses, there are more to see.

Look around, enjoy the view,

Leave your mark.

Enrich the land.

And then he cut slack the reins and the river roars into life, with a new purpose and a new direction.

And there floweth the Wo Ho.

Baby Dylan's 2nd Birthday

Larger Image?

I know, I know. Time has kinda stood still in phodeland. Maybe it should be called phode's bog; ... things really get bogged down. Anyway, here's something to get the ball rolling and hopefully unclog the blog and get this log through the fog and out of the bog.

I rant needlessly and should really slog...

Me? Fast?

I.
the tired and the weak rushes to fast
as wednesday D day come on nigh
hoping resolve and volition would last
that spirits not break amidst ravenous sigh

II.
did you happen to catch my last burps?
last whiff of rain before the droughts
not much time before the fat lady chirps
hollow hunger, sated by devouring doubts

Death's Rush

Hurry, tick, tick, tick
Slow down, why you rush
your maker to meet?