I've never actually realised that I've amassed quite a bit of poetry over the years I've been in KL. There are a few scattered on my blog, and a few in my Documents folder, and a few in my old notes. What better way to start the new year, than by revisiting these old, condensed memories, all gathered onto one page. I give you, in all its cheesy glory, Shimron: An Anthology
A gentle breeze embraces me
Whispering softly in my ear
Of pleasant afternoons
in the park
Of lovers trysting
in the dark
She flirts with my hair only
to slip away leaving me
To once again
Long for
Her gentle
caresses and
her warm scent
Coyly lingering
in the air
Ain’t No Sunshine When You’re Gone
The feeble sunlight filters through
Grey clouds,
Bursting on the morning dew.
Silence lies heavily
On the house
Like a thick, smothering blanket.
A single gardenia wilts in the vase
In the hall, as the dust settles.
The air tastes
Like a heaped spoon of salt,
Smelling dead,
Lifeless.
Your absence is obvious,
And it cuts like a knife.
Hush now, let angels be your guide,
Let pleasant dreams embrace you.
In sleep from the World you shall hide
Until dancing sunbeams find you.
Hush how, let your troubles go,
Find sweet comfort in your sleep.
Lose yourself in the soothing flow,
As stars through your window peep.
Hush now, don't you fret,
I'll still be here when you wake.
So rouse not from slumber yet,
The noise of reality forsake.
A raging river,
set.
Drowning all
around it.
A taut string,
pulled further.
Pling.
It snaps.
A still pond.
Stone
drops in.
Ripples spread;
Chaos.
A leaf in a torrent.
Sucked in
by
the vortex.
Pebble in the river.
Reluctant.
Forced along.
War, pride.
I'm right.
Still, sorrow stems
And people die.
My mind wanders across
Unkempt gardens splattered with moss
In my mind's eye I see
A figure ahead of me
I call out to the yonder entity
But my voice rings in vain across the empty
Like on winged sandals it glides
Amongst the shadowy, sinister groves
In an instant it pauses
And turns to smile
Then on again the chase commences
Like an antelope it prances
How far must I run on?
Soon the svelte figure would be gone
Staring into the dark appalling
Harken the voice calling!
This is the voice I've longed to hear
What angel's beckoning draws me near?
My eyes widen, so full of gleam
Is this a metaphor or a fancy dream?
The moon fades as I reach out
Rippling into shards of silver
The flower I cannot grasp
So close yet impossible
Would you fade like a mirage too?
Lament
If Aphrodite be real, you would shame her to tears;
If your heart be sold, its worth would surpass even precious rubies.
But alas!
Who am I to even think of you,
being no Eros, and having no gold?
The birds have now flown to their nests
While foxes return to their holes
A lone man sits in his room
Contemplating tomorrow
Ice Queen
Silent is she with the heart of ice
which many men have tried to thaw.
As many line to try their hand,
They watch the defeated crawl away
Dejected, bloody, beaten, torn.
But yet the line grows longer still.
Why?
Wondering Ships
Across the ocean
Is she never coming back?
I sure hope she would...
Presenza mai fù
di donna,
cara ed amabile,
soave più.
Jesu, Joy of Man
My Bulwark in the storm,
my caring Friend;
A Fire to keep me warm,
Guide thru this transient land.
Companion to the outcast,
Champion of the weak;
In Him I will stand fast,
His will I seek.
*All poetry on this post and the attached links are intellectual property of Lim Shimron and may not be reproduced in any form anywhere without the prior consent of the author.
