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my friend

Posted by poeticnook on 6/25/2013 02:57:00 AM in ,

I wrote this piece back in the first semester of 1999 while sitting in at a class of Abstract Algebra, this was in response to the poem in Kahlil Gibran's "The Madman", which I was reading while the professor was discussing ring homomorphisms - talk about multitasking!

I finished writing it in less than an hour, faster than I could prove isomorphic functions. If I had pursued creative writing, I'm sure I would have been pondering on the origins of natural numbers while the professor rambles on about metaphors.

I guess it just shows that we are more than the things we study, more than degrees and titles we add to our names, more than labels and boxes we try hard to fit ourselves into.

We are infinite possibilities waiting to happen, and we can do more as long as we put our heart and mind into it.

my friend, I dream too much of the past,
too much that I've lost myself in it,
unable to wake and live once more.

the "I" in me my friend
would like to leave the house of silence,
for it has been there for too long,
I would not like to be chained forever

when you called me and I did not answer,
my mind was flying over the hills and high mountains,
I was finding myself
I was hoping you'd find me

my friend, you do not understand my wandering thoughts,
but I'd like you to understand,
I cannot fly alone

when I look at the sunset,
you impatiently wait for the break of dawn,
yet even then we bask under the radiance of the same moon,
how I would like you to see my sunset,
as I would love to welcome your dawn

when you swim for the shore, my friend,
I let the waves crush me to the rocks,
for death is the only way I know I could be free.
I wish I knew how to swim
I wish you could teach me

you say I love truth and beauty and righteousness,
yet you do not see how I burn,
how I wish you would see,
but you do not want to,
so I let you believe

my friend, I am not good and wise, no I am not perfect
I would like to shout and be mad for once,
but my walls are too high,
no one will hear me

my friend, you tell me I am not your friend,
help me to understand,
can we not walk together?
I'll let you lead the way,
let me take your hand

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the pursuit of useless things

Posted by poeticnook on 6/24/2013 01:55:00 AM in ,



does it blink? does it shine?
does it help me make a rhyme?
will it cut? will I bleed?
will it tell me when it's time?
all these tiny useless things 
they keep me away from You
this silver and this gold
they hide from me what's true

2013.06.23.4.41.p.m.

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brilliant ambre brown de birmanie

Posted by poeticnook on 6/20/2013 11:55:00 AM in


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homeless again, naturally

Posted by poeticnook on 6/05/2013 07:53:00 PM in


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