Life is but a DreamWe are just unnourished frail bodies,More Like This
overfed with white lies and short-lived-euphorias.
Books filled with black letters,
etching lurid images into our utmost dreams.
Veering us from the big picture...
the one we fail to paint ourselves.
Our fists much too busy with fights,
that we are bound to lose.
Too occupied in line waiting,
for creativity to be let loose like a stray dog.
As if we will find home in this pursuit of happiness...
but we only enclose each other in small rooms
with nothing but old laptops.
How many times I've guessed which letter could it be...
Which letter could it be?
To free us from havoc-stricken-thoughts?
They come and go, unending like 24 hour subway stations.
There's no break for this lonely man,
heaving every breathe of stale air
into my overused lungs...
Living in confined walls of flesh
held up with brittle paper-mache bones.
Which day is it that I will burst out from this cage of a life?
And hover with the Gods found in carefully binded bo
I forgotI used to loveMore Like This
I used to dream
I used to hope
But I forgot
I need something
To remind me of these beautiful things
For a shard of happiness
So I can love again
Locus SolusI sometimes recall a particular morning from childhood. I was in my grandparents' home - a big house, with large empty walls and high ceiling. It was a lazy winter morning. The sun was coming shyly through the shades. A heavy silence all around. I did not dare to move in my bed, afraid that I'd somehow ruin that order of the world. In all that stillness I suddenly noticed a small spider crawling on a wall. I thought it was cute for some time, until the immensity of that empty wall hit me like a hammer. The slowly advancing spider had walked alone up to that point and it still had a lot of empty ground to cover. I whispered "The world is a lonely place, little spider". And I cried for him. But the little spider didn't even notice me. And that, in turn, made me feel alone.More Like This
Practice Poem - Man In CagePractice Poem - Man in Cage:More Like This
When I was young I was taught that pain begets pain,
Anger and animosity, malice and cruelty;
So deeply inflicted, so lovingly gifted.
I tasted of its rotten core and dared to call it sweet.
But what do I have to show for it?
White hot scars that burn in my dreams.
Reminders of a fragmented bi-polar self;
Self inflicted propaganda, to reinforce the "truth".
Truth so lovingly fabricated by a weakness within,
So desperately crying out for vindication;
Openly denying all that might shed light upon me,
Seeking only the company of shades in shadows...
Within four walls I sleep in exile;
Quietly pretending that I am still sane,
Never noticing how it has all turned out;
Alone I remain the same...
Never reaching, never living; I am free within the cage
-Chen Yuan Wen, 1st January 2012