Sailor at Bay

The Weather is dark today,
Clouds dark and gloomy grey,
My ship is anchored at bay,
With fees I have to pay.


The wind blows steady and strong,
I hope it will not last long,
Till then I’ll rest along,
With sailors stranded among.


My ship oh she’s a mess,
I think she needs a rest,
I wish her all the best,
For she will pass the test.


What perfect time to see,
And try to rest and be,
Stand steady on land not sea,
Oh my heart is filled with glee!

What if tomorrow never comes?

IS there a point to all this?

The freedom of words is bliss for me. I can write things that I think I would never say out loud anywhere. Not because I cannot but because the norms of society would then label me as an outcast. A pity that I do not have the real strength to say what my heart desires, only the privilege to write anonymously on the net for strangers to read and ponder, or perhaps just take pointless space in the world of the net.
Like the pleasure of listening to your favorite music or reading your favorite book, writing gives you a sense of freedom. You can unload what is cramped up in your mind and soul all in a piece of paper (or page, in this case). But then, what is there to write? What topics or issues are worth scribbling about? Would anyone even bother to waste their precious time to read your doodles of pointlessness?
It doesn’t matter really, whether there are people out there to read it or not. Maybe it would be absolutely pointless, but maybe, just maybe, someone out there would be inspired by it. Maybe it would help shed some light somewhere. So, this is what I am going to do. I would pour my thoughts and my soul into these petty pages for the sake of whoever is reading and paying attention out there. I’m ordinary, maybe even weird, but I, I am unique, because I am me. Trust me, what I’ve been through, you will not encounter everyday. I’ve learned to be strong, and I have transition onto being numb.
How these things occurred? What led it there? Browse through; maybe something would be a hint to you.
Oh yes, what I was really trying to say was, words hold a certain power. It can change the world. Words can start wars and it can end it. Whatever it is that is in your mind, please share it. It might be of the greatest help to the world. Even if it did not have such a global impact, to change one life and to help someone for even one instance is a great stepping stone of achievement in life. This life is too short for us to live only for ourselves. To help other and to share what we’ve been through is only logical enough.

My "Sampan"

Time passes by,
Day by day,
Some wish it would stop,
While others wish it would never end.

The wind blows,
One day or another,
Sometimes calm and soothing,
Wild and cold on others.

Seasons change,
As certain as the sun would rise and set,
People change,
Indefinitely, yet just as certain.

As the world go by,
I paddle through in my little “sampan”,
Battling rough waves,
Enjoying every bit of calm surrender.

Far away is the horizon,
Yet somewhere out there,
I’m certain of a shore,
There I paddle towards day by day.

Yet large waves seem small,
When battled with another,
My “sampan” isn’t barren anymore,
For now, it’s filled with love…

Note: I always believe in optimism, even though I dont practice it alot. Love, it's more than just an expression, it is practically everything we base our life upon. With love everything is possible, and impossible. To define love is like to define life. The fact that humanity is still lost, proves that time nor experience thought anyone what it truly means. But what we do know, is love shapes us, craddle us, and thus the world as we know it.

Why a sampan? Haha...first of all, what is a sampan.... It is a little boat, used by both rich and poor, for, well many reasons. Usually you would find sampans only in rivers, lakes, and small bodies of water. maybe at the shore or coastline of the sea. It can be a device of transport, leasure, or even a source of income. Such a simple technology have blessed many with it's age old uses. It represents a great deal of culture too, especially for people who depend much on rivers, lakes and its many treasures. So why a sampan? Simply, because it is simple yet it survived time and still today, it is build by the hands of our people!

Again, the beauty of poetry is that it is free. Free for everyone the interpret it how they see fit. There is no wrong, there is no right. (not like the school poetry we studied, def:...... etc etc). of course, the author of a poem had something in his or her mind when it was scribbled, but the perfection is achieved when readers could connect and enjoy it in their bit of world.

Well, that is a little bit of what i think. Like i said before, I'm yet to find the talent in me. This is just probably some empty scribbles of nothing. But then again it's somewhat long for "nothing".. :P