A Love Left Unsaid

I was in a routine internal meeting in my office when I wrote this poem. It was totally boring and I almost fell asleep. So instead of falling asleep, I pretended writing what my coworkers said on my notebook, while I actually wrote a poem.

I have been waiting to write this poem actually, because writing as a person who tells story is something new. I usually wrote as a subject of the poem and I felt kind of bored, so I tried writing as a story-teller.

The weird thing is I feel like never satisfied with this poem, unlike when I wrote 'The Awkward Trial' (which is still my most favorite one). I wrote it on my notebook, then I revised some words still on that notebook. Then I ripped a piece of paper where this poem was written to be brought home, but before I re-write it in Torchy, my phone, I still had new idea to write down on my notebook, which finally became one new verse.

And when I re-wrote it in Torchy, I still revised some words. The new verse I wrote in notebook finally came up differently. Weird is weird, I was like never satisfied of this poem.

But in the end I knew I must finish this. I titled this as 'Left Unsaid'. Do you love it or hate it? I kinda like it, though.

She was walking in a labyrinth
Finding him stood on the rain
Trying bravely to pull his hand
Hoping he would finally let her in
Naturally they walked outside together
Surely he opened his life for her
As she shined on him over and over
Two beauty collided, rised brighter
But she was afraid to declare love
Not ready for his resistance
While he performed nothing to solve
All he did was waiting in silence
She said his wall was unbroken
Made her frozen, trapped by ice mountain
He said her eyes already told much
Even shuttered when her voice approach
Sending signs were all they keep doing
None of them released such a feeling
She refused to ask for confirmation
He refused to be changed by her affection
The story ends imperfectly
He goes home to the labyrinth calmly
She is free, falling for a certainty
As the love is left unsaid, kept cleanly


You Get My Focus

I just bought a lomo camera, and it's pink. Yay! 

Too bad that I haven't found the film roll T___T  I hope that I will find it soon because once I have a new gadget I can't wait to use it. Anyway I haven't name it yet...maybe Lomoppi. Aih so not-creative -___- what-e-ver.

After I took some photos with this camera and set 'you get my focus' as my status in Blackberry Messenger, I realized afterwards that they were connected (well I set the status not based on Lomoppi-purchase). So a poem came up in my mind. A poem using words about taking photos. 

Still with the same theme with 'The Awkward Trial', but with a little bit more advanced condition, I wrote a poem titled 'Focus'. In this poem, the subject has grown love for the opposite, but still waiting for a certainty because he/she is still not sure about the opposite's feeling. As I wrote above, it is more advanced than in 'The Awkward Trial'.

Do you love it or hate it? I quite love it.

I was wandering everywhere
When I first saw you in disguise
With those eyeglasses you wear
You set a simple certain pose

Your short greeting as 'hello'
Got me stop my feet from running
As the time walks so slow
You become what I've been searching

The camera is in my shaking hands
Waiting for me to decide wisely
The object is standing before my eyes
Waiting to be captured perfectly

You get my focus wholly
Once you said 'please remind me'
My lense is set on you unconsciously
As if you cast a spell on me

Shutter button is waiting patiently
To be pushed once you say 'please love me'
I am waiting for two of us to be
For a picture perfect that we will agree