Amongst circles

Circle encircles another circle,
one after one,
in the most perfect uniformized pattern;
intimately positioned and, distant.

Ought to be indifferent;
come in kindred roots and spirits,
endowed with akin features,
and touched, by the same mother's hand.

Resemblance inherents within, merely
spreads them all over, and,
swims towards each direction,
without a core, a heart.

Hearts remain, inside each circle;
the only core for each,
the one that matters,
happy are those who hide inside.

Tougher and choppier along the trail;
not a pause for seekers,
to climb up, to set in,
to bridge amongst walls.

Topped up with sickly sweet lies,
soft prickles along the edges;
perhaps, gives birth to a new core:
resting in twilight.



in response to the Copenhagen Climate Conference and human relationships at present

The next stop is..

Always in the wait for the last stop,
anticipation ends at the far end;
indifferent announcements are made
over and over, still.

Cold metal cage opens and closes,
flows in an army of clones,
flushes out another army of clones;
another simple matter of exchange.

All are stoned like sculptures,
masterpieces created by blankness;
distinctively different yet strangely similar,
all in comply with the empty stare rule.

Motions stay frozen, so does
emotions, under lock and key in a forgotten island;
buried deep down in a bottomless hole,
brings about curiosity and danger.


Deadness condensed in the air,
grows by every minute, spreading around
vigorously like a seaonal flu;
unconscious are the patients, though.

A new deadly disease is born,
weathering one's affections bit by bit;
the only way to escape from further decay,
perhaps, is to leave at the right stop.

written while I was stuck in the subway tube.

Summer tune's last note.

Feels like it was yesterday when
summer sang its first tune of the year.
Notes were blishfully light,
dancing around in harmony.

Everything was new then;
sharper, brighter,
crispier, fresher,
evolved from the moody spring.

Spontaneous drizzle vaporized,
while playing under the sun.
Layers and layers of mystery gone,
by just an effortless blow.

Sizzling hot was the sand,
heaven's golden grains on ground;
waveless sea ran smooth as silk,
demonstrated the liveliest shade of blue.

Laughters echoed all around,
bursting like new year's fireworks,
showered every corner with
the simplest and directest joy.

Almost too perfect to be real,
as if staying in a wrong dream;
carried away by a long chain of
fragile and fleeting soap bubbles.

Will this summer tune run until
reached its everlasting end?

Truth is.

Swimming through a circus,
chaos all around;
clashing with each other along the path,
generates waves of yells and cheers.

Excitement slowly begins its intoxication,
shotting people with wild joy,
they, as if being conditioned;
share the same, uniformed move.

Plain, dull jokes fly over the tent,
followed by senseless laughs;
emotions flamed up to the peak,
roaring like an angry lion.


Chaos further grows with yells and cheers,
spreading roots to all remaining corners,
and sprawl into others minds,
in the hope of unity.

Hollow whoops comes back and forth,
spins one's head fast,
into a swirl of confusion, starts
a battle of old and new.

Surrounding noise performs lies,
attempting to sway the truth away;
yet, incites the end of long anticipation
into the brightest light.

Undefined lies are defined again,
signifying this craze is nothing,
more than a spark,
that fades as soon as it rises.


P.S I am back everyone! I have been very busy with all the university orientation stuff.(going to be a year 1 student this september!) hope everyone is doing great! and i promise that i will post as often as before,i have never forgotten this blog. :)

agnes xx

Spinning, it is spinning

Spin without spreading arms,
shadowless on ground;
no sound is made,
moves beyond imaginations, yet.

Time, a spinning ballerina;
spins till boundless ocean evolves
from ranges of mountains, and further fills
with layers of field terrains.

Nothing too fast,transformation is done
in every spin, in every spilt second;
squeezes way through into a tight clock,
still, puzzles all the eyes.

All over, when eyes open again;
clock finished its first marathon,
monthly calender flipped to next page,
time, no longer the same.

Truth is, ignorance fools are blinded
by all the fake glamour,
indugled with pride and prejudice,
in every spin, in every spilt second.

For time slips like sand in fists,
goes as quickly as possible,
there's no holding back yet to grasp it tightly,
in every single moment.

First Anniversary

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An empty schedule

Wandering in an empty schedule,
no plans to stop, not even one;
to swim through hours and days,
calls in a long yawn.

Emptiness floods over monthly calendar,
broken arrows shoot across uniformized boxes;
notes and markings are preys,
caged soul hunts after, desperately.

Was once caged by books and papers,
shaking the paper bars like a thrashed slave;
encircled with rings of eraser dust,
and howled, for an hour of peace.

Sitting side by side with peace now,
boredom invades steps by steps, till no rooms left;
rapid knocks are heard, from hollowness,
louder and heavier everytime it knocks.

Tension in the air tightens,
stretching to its rupture point;
there's nowhere else to hide,
to camouflage the fear of loneliness.

Prayers remain unanswered, sunken;
bubbles of disorderly thoughts emerge,
depressing oneself back into,
the old empty schedule.

Note: I guess this piece pretty much explained why i don't blog as frequent as I did before.



As this blog will soon celebrate its first anniversary, I would like to collect some opinions from you all for further betterment. Feel free to answer the following questions :) Your suggestions will be very much appreciated. Thanks in advance for that. :)

1. Any changes on the layout or design of the blog you would like to see? (e.g header, background, texts, colours, etc.)
2. Do you wish to read more variety of posts except mainly poetry?
3. Do you prefer any music in this blog?
4. Any particular theme(s) that you usually enjoy more?
5. Others suggestion(s) that is/are in your mind.

xx
agnes

sources: www.jetroot.com, photographer: Sebastian kim; others, TFS