Like me, Just like me.

So on so what
To this and that
Bounce off and back
And to return again

All things that rise must fall
And all things that burns must seized
Like the day must come to night
And some nights stay longer…

Like me
Like Mr. Mickey Tan
Like me, like me.

I’m used to escape into the night of sober
Where words sprang out like they aren’t mine
Scrapes of thoughts and papers printed by my heart
The true voices that I hear the next day

And found solace

That someone within knows me
That he hurts like me
Hates and love like me
He’s one but not the same

He’s me without restrictions
The one that sprang out with help of drink and smoke and pills
The one that I become less and less often
Maybe I over walked that channel that door
And that pain strikes when I swallow the key
And the weights of the doors are hard to pull apart

I touched my neck feeling for the source
And pray never to confront it

Something for Father's Day

A day to my birthday, 2003, and typing

Your second son was born
must have touched my head
how smart i would be
a part of you live in me
now you're gone.

how was the weather like that Oct afternoon?
did you know it's a boy?
how long did you think of what to call me
the youngest of the family

never was there a memory of caringness on days any other
nor birthdays celebrated
Instead you never fail to part with your hard earnings
on the toys I've got once in a while.

The books, the fees, the computers when rams are sold per mb.
all for the future you let me choose
and the support unrelentless
You tried your best when your pockets empty
yet till the end i have paid no toll nor due enough.

and all the times when I'm down with fever so high
when I'm not able to walk or stay much awake
I remember you come in before you work
and put your hands on my head
the most recent time when I'm sick
you did the same, hoping for my recovery

the last and only time i place my hand on you head
you were motionless and cold
I was hoping for your recovery
that never came.

And now you're gone
I'm left with debts unpaid
words over due
and promises un fulfilled

What's left is the little memories
of the man that gave me life.
and that maybe I would pay my debt
when I have a son.

If I ever...

It's just time, spent

what words are left to be written
from someone who believes in nothing much
all brought on by he's inability to believe in one thing
himself

even as he writes
he sigh at the thoughts of his pitiful number of words he knew
the kind of writing that'll never find praises nor interest any soul
and in that thought that say
what is the whole point?
Who's going to read it.
even you yourself would not

With that I shall stop my typing
just some time I spent

Thats all.

A song I wrote

I wonder where were you
All the time when I'm at my most
Spontaneous
Sexy

How come the groovest always plays
on my internet radio with you far away,
Those sound that would spin us round and round
with endless bolt of touch,
silent movements

and we

will add breathing to the rhythm
.....

And now another one of those songs,
Damn the DJ or blame it on the little time we had,
another danceable tunes.
I could feel you forget what we've become,
and be ourselves.
.....

And when I'm at my most drowsy,
so needing touch
Where were you,?

All the time when I'm at my most
Spontaneous
Sexy.....

As I emerge as me once again to someone new,
where were boredom,
And slow paced seem like light,
At my most.....
Spontaneous
Sexy
......

You were my impromptu sex,
My pleasure at the stairway, indulge the night away,
You were my picnic buddy, did we need to eat out so often?

With my jacket as our shelter, your flashbacks of your dream of fishes,
Brazilian bands working hard, our lips were worked too,

Now where have you been,
Spontaneous
Sexy
You.