Yay, or Nay… (+Poem, +short story)

June 24, 2008 at 1:59 pm (literature, novel, Poems, stories) (literature, novel, poem, poetry, Reminiscence, story)

It seems procrastination is my calling. I wonder why when i have a ton of stuff to do piled up, I leave them as they are and start writing…

Oh well, couldn’t do something different though.

As i was sorting some things from my childhood, a small notebook fell. A tiny bluish (at sometime) notebook. I had it bought when i was seven, eight years old, can’t really remember. But I had it so that I could note down lyrics that I liked. My parents loved the idea since they thought that it would help me with my spelling (which by the way still sucks). Soon I began to alter the words here or there. Putting them in different order, giving them life… It didn’t took much for this tiny assembly of magical papers to become my very first place that I stored my poems. Childish, now that i see them, ignorant of life… yet, somehow, I couldn’t contain my tears when I read, and re-read them…

Obviously, I dedicate the poem: Reminiscence to it… and since it got me writing again, I finished my story Incineration of sanity. It felt nice to finish a story in just two days… maybe I should stick to short ones.

If you read it and wonder about the ‘somewhat’ abrupt ending, it was intentional. Life can change in the blink of an eye, in the second that it takes for one to make the decision to alter it… I don’t know how well it shows that it was intentional, but I hope…

Reminiscence

A tear stains, your worn teal color.
Blue ink is messing your scrambled lines.
Notebook of old, where were you hiding?
Your pages so thin, they’ve sliced my soul.

Were you just hiding in dusty corner?
Or in my heart you always lay?
Memories dance and sobs explode,
as I am holding you in my hand.

Meaningless rhymes and silly lyrics
How my emotions you mess?
Childish scribbles in playful tunes
How tears you bring in clouded mind?

Do you remember our first caress?
Your lover’s dance with pen and pencil?
My smile when loneliness you did dispel.
The day I bought you, I bought a friend…

A dozen years, maybe some more,
have passed since then that we had bond.
Yet fragrance fresh you still emit
of words you spat, of life you’ve birthed..

Notebook of old, now that I’ve found you,
my pillow join, there where I lay,
I’ll trust you again, my dreams to guard;
the same old dreams that you’ve inspired…