Running, Swimming, Studying, Praying, Poetry and Rubbish.

I wonder if she got it

Benedict — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 11:23:54 +0000

It was a look of
Shock, guilt, sadness
Confusion.
The utterance of ‘hey’
Weak.
Closer to omgwtfbbq.
I don’t think it was even a smile.
She on the other hand
Looked certain.
Certained to be happy to see…
The person whose heart was broken.
With that bright smile on her face,
I think I looked like my breath got taken away.
Yes, that’s about right.
She does take my breath away.
I wonder if she got it.
—————————————————
Then again I think I looked like the air got punched out of me.
Felt that way too.

Untitled

Benedict — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 17:06:16 +0000

There was this man
He fell in love with a girl
Her kindness was her only flaw
She never spoke a word
to break his heart
but her actions or inaction
spoke louder and louder

oh, he pretended to blind
but the feeling on his skin
couldn’t lie…
He felt her cold cold eyes..
looking away…

ohhh~~~
He fell in love with a girl
He thought he could thaw
that frozen heart of hers
but then he got bitten
but twice he was not shy…
Until the heart
constricted, and died.

Change : Fear

Benedict — Thu, 29 Dec 2011 15:36:30 +0000

Maybe change is a deeply instilled fear
Fear that a change of status
Could break hearts, could gather joy
Fear that creating one bond
Will disconnect other, significant friendships
Fear that the person in the mirror
Would no longer be recognised
Fear that part and part will combine
into something more selfish
meh. =/

Would I rather…

Benedict — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 04:12:36 +0000

Of the two Freuds, I’d rather learn of Lucian over Sigmund.
Of the two colonels, I’d rather discover the secrets of Sanders than of Gaddafi.

Carry it with cupped hands

Benedict — Fri, 16 Dec 2011 16:04:26 +0000

Tears, heavy as the rocks in her heart
every drop, ripple, thought of him
into the pool, deeper than her despair
in her cupped hands
——————————————–
Drops of rain, heaven’s tears
Shirt soaked with the weight of the world
Yet the canals overflow
Such is the sadness of one who loves
——————————————–

landmines

Benedict — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 08:46:33 +0000

the worst part is that it doesn’t kill you.

time passes and he misses

Benedict — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 05:22:14 +0000

Tear off another page of the calender
Strike off a date or two
all that while thinking of you
stopwatch not stopping
wall clock tick tocking
the moon from full to empty
wondering if he’d ever be complete
without you
A new calender
Another date to strike off
Another day without you

She can’t make him love her

Benedict — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 10:13:50 +0000

Sure
She’s nice.
Kind, compassionate, good with kids.
Religious(hmmm… This goes both ways)
She devotes 30% of her time on the web checking his Facebook, blog and tweets.
She feels sad when he’s sad, feels glad when he’s glad.
Even helped him sort out a couple of important stuff.
But he doesn’t love her, not the romantic way at least.
She wonders why he chases someone who’s not interested in him.
Passing a glass building, she thought she saw him, only to see herself.
Strange, these things.
She tells herself, “Its ok. As long as he’s happy.”
She knows he’s not and she can’t do anything about it.

Long overdue heartbreak

Benedict — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 02:26:14 +0000

Just happened.
Oh well.

The world of words

Benedict — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 02:00:22 +0000

Sparse yet infinite words flow within the endless stream of thought (much like the integers among real numbers)
Use invisible thread, called algebra or grammar, to connect them in a linear and purposeful fashion called sentences
Stack them into blocks of arguments and paragraphs whether in deductive or inductive way
To finally build the structure of the poem, essay, mathematical proof, statement or just pure expressions.
All against the backdrop of context of other buildings of words or trees of poetry or inverted pyramids of mathematical truths.