emmalhy

maso-chist

over the years i have put all my anger
my sadness my tears my feelings
inside me trapping them keeping them
remembering them n now it’s critical its
the time it’s the time which it gonna
explode i know there’s something
wrong with me i know i know me but
what actually is it i do not know i’m a
masochist i am i know i am masochist
maso-chist i’m destroying me why am i
like this i do not know maybe may-be
may-it-be but i think i like it i’m i am for
i am a poet and nothing more right i am
nothing but a poet

Written on 29 November 2013
I think something is broken inside me,
I do not know what is it,
I think I am collapsing.

But I love the feeling of collapse.

horr-or

Wrinkles on the pretty mirror:
Who knows — about the underlying horror?

closed chamber
dimmed cigar
faded star
unhealed scar

The mirror of water
with its image hovers
and repeated over
over
and over
Yet covered
by the most pretty bloody flower…

Written on 18 September 2013.

Serendipity and Ice Harvesting, Revisited (19thcenturywellington.wordpress.com)

janet

“Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live.”
— Oscar Wilde

Join me, and farewell.
And hope this poem finds you well!

No where, no why —
Ever after, life of sighs.

Tell me not your burden,
Nor your sorrows.
Go higher, fly further, to the world with just fun and laughter.

Farewell, my never-known friend,
See you when we can meet again.

Written on 9 September 2013, in Hong Kong.
Originally named “the news“.
In memory of a passed-away schoolmate, Janet, who ended her own life earlier.
I have never known her, and I think she did not know me either, but I wish to write her this poem.

There are lots of obstacles in life.
Some people say we can always get through, as long as you tried hard enough.
What if there are some which we cannot deal with —
You never know how heavy is a burden to another person,
You never know how much one can afford.
If death is a better choice, isn’t it selfish forcing someone to stay alive?

I do not know.

Dear Janet,
It has been a few months since you have gone to a better place.
I hope that really is a better place.
I wish you all the best.
Em.

perhaps

Then I turned,
A quiet neighbourhood,
Calm water.

Listen to the birds,
Feel the wind,
Stare at the sky —

So it is,
Life is, perhaps, the most beautiful,
yet fascinating,
when there are accidents.

So I go.

Written on 16 July 2013,
Ocean Terminal, Edinburgh, Scotland

A memorial of my summer 2013,
A beautiful summer.
“Edinburgh is a hot-bed of genius.”
Definitely I will go back again.

ash

How many people we meet in our life,
and how many leave their marks in it?
You may, perhaps,
call it as “fate”
which we could never change it a bit.

Parallel lines,
Intersecting points,
Overlapping time —

Who knows what is ahead?

Move on,
there is no way to return.

Flash —
tic-tac-tic-tac
moment never waits,
time never pauses,
and, thus, wake up.

Beauty would not last,
Words would be washed off,
Meanings lose,
Feelings fade,
Nothing can last
like a moment of flashback.

Written on 21 August 2013
A poem dedicated to the very interesting people whom I have met in my life —
And there will of course be more of them.

afterword

What is the right answer?
So perhaps we have gone to the edge,
to go on, or to stop?
Maybe we are not the right ones,
or maybe we are?

“What if we are meant to be together”…
or what if we are not?

I am not that confident.
Everything is just —

What makes up a lie?

Which way to go?
Repeated feeling,
Continuous waiting.
I just wish to go on without reasoning.

I am staring at the past,
You are looking at the future.
Yet what we have in hand is NOW.

Take the risk,
Take the chance.

If still,
Maybe that’s the time to stop.

Life is, perhaps,
Too long for two young hearts.

Written on 15 August 2013.
Edited on 28 October 2013 and 31 October 2013.
After the quarrel.

I am glad that we have made through at that very moment.
I love you.

what-if

Tic-tac, Tic-tac,
moments, seconds, minutes, hours —
days, weeks, months, years —
time passes,
silence lasts.

So what if that is just a dream?
An endless dream.

No, but it cannot be a dream —
-why?
I know not, but it just cannot be —
-what is it then?
I don’t know.

So what if it is just a game?
An endless game.
A haunting game.
A lasting game.

Yes, it must be.

rain-bow

Photo comp Oct 13

What is at the end of the rainbow?
“No, there isn’t an end.”
How do you know?
“There is a story about the end of the rainbow is a pot of gold.”
So you think there isn’t an end?
“I have no idea,
I have never seen a real rainbow.”

You said.

We will find one together.
I said.

I will place it round your wrist,
It is your rainbow bracelet;
I will place it on your finger,
It is our rainbow ring.

So now you know —
At the end of the rainbow,
There is nothing, but our souls.
Yet something is gonna glow,
It’s our love, which grows.

What is at the end of the rainbow?
Now we know.

Written on 7 August 2013, while I was whatsapp-ing with you.
Love will guide us there,
And I am always with you.

blade

Let the eyes lie,
Let the scars .

Lips speak;
Words hurt;
Hearts part;
Feelings come apart.

Let the soul die —
Let the time bide —

Wounds may heal…

But memories kill.

A recollection of my poems:
Written on 11 June 2012, at work.
An inspiration from a drawing of mine.

4 days before I was hit by the cars.

remembrance

“Shut your eyes and see.” – James Joyce

Nothing sees more than feeling.

This blog is a re-membering of what I saw with my soul.
Memory fades, feeling stays.

Only when you can re-collect the feelings,
you write your own history.

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