Just A Place

Found poem from the novel "Lord of the Flies" written by William Golding.

Blue, reef of the sea,

Water crashing down hard and steady.

Out there, grey shimmering water,

Miles and miles away, open sea in dark blue.

Calling us, with its delightful sounds.

Fading our thoughts, overcoming us in solemn.

Green, still lagoon and darkness of the forest,

Palm trees, coconut trees and grass.

Decaying leaves faintly into nothing,

Hanging and tangled tree branches greeting us.

They are our acquaintance,

As lagoon, forest and mountains are our friends.

Dazzling white sand surrounds our feet,

dragging down our heavy bodies.

Hot, as the sun shots its fierce fire,

causing a prominent feeling on our feet.

Water in the lagoon, reality of the island,

Bright and exciting, but yet proclaim a devil's voice.

Silence that Soothes

Just one candle is all she needs,
to fight the dark that her grief feeds.
And feel the heat it radiates,
watching the light that it creates.

The constant sound of raindrops fill,
to cover thoughts when despair kill.
Accompanied with clock that ticks,
and to ignore when fate plays tricks.

"I'm not afraid" as the girl says.
"the dark and silence soothes my days."
"The tree, it's outside my window,
I'm not alone with its shadow."

"Please go away, I want to sleep."
She puts her blanket on and weep.
And now she's done she grabs ahold,
with loneliness that will unfold

Inspiration: Sometimes people need a break from bickering noises; to actually sit in a dark room and try to focus all of the senses. Auditory and touch. Solitude is not always a bad thing, sometimes we like to be alone and reflect on things. One stanza has 4 lines and follows a rhyme scheme of ABAB CDCD EFEF GHGH

Cherry Blossom

*Nostalgia has brought me back to spring, reminding me of those beautiful cherry blossom trees. Somehow I managed to relate this object to a certain someone?

Sweet colour filled my pathways,

Creating a joyful vibe for its surroundings,

Marking the start of new season.

Its alluring pink colours covers the fact,

That it has strong hard branches,

Making it flawless for people who pass by.

Its virtue attracts me as always.

Although that rush of joy will subside,

Turning its sweetness into a darker colour.

Trying to tell me that,

It is just an ordinary tree.

Lady Ukulele

* A response to short story The Pedestrian

January 2055 I sit and watch,

As her fingers stride,

Along the side of her ukulele.

The melody draws me.

Less and less are left untouched,

Her eyes open wide, staring.

Missing of what it used to be,

As her coloured painting turns to gray.

She frowns at her disproportionate landscape.

Just a little peak from the corner of her eye,

Being Helpless as the storm of change goes by,

Overdrives her with anger.

No more of the blue bird's loving lullaby,

Even worse, less bubbly faces as people pass by.

They still do, but no more shots of whimsical emotions,

As it gives lady ukulele less reason to love her place.

Long before this every night she prays to God,

Next minute thinking he's a fraud.

Unlike everybody else, she is not a sane believer.

Not wanting more for herself.

January 2055 I sit and watch.

The dull and colourless world of the lady ukulele,

She thinks these are all,

Just a faux reality