G, the copywriter, is dead

Shit, defined

I wrote this dark poem during my internship in Shell, Oct 18, 2002 to be exact. I felt a mumbo-jumbo of frustrations for various reasons. A lot of it had to do with how people looked at me, or how I perceived that people look at me. There's this pressure to excel in a field I had no passion for. There's this expectation that people have of me, giving me shoes I couldn't possibly fill. There's this appalling disbelief at how lines were drawn to separate the 'holier-than-thou's from the rest of the 'body of Christ'. And to wrap all that up, there's this uncertainty of my future and despair that possibly, highly probably, I'd be stuck in this shit for the rest of my life.

Shit is a profound word

A word that tells a tale

A curse understood only by a handful

Whose lives seem meaningless

Yet they're forced to trudge

In this life they hate so much

Forced to loiter on Earth's countenance

Guided only by a faint glimmer of hope

Inspired only by thoughts

Of loved ones.

Shit is a void felt
When no one understands
Everyone looks at you
Like you’re something else
It hurts so bad when they’d rather
Believe in a fake you
It pressures when they expect
More than what you can give
It makes you mad when they try
To make you someone else
You’re fed up of living your life
Full of lies for someone else
Like a puppet on a string
Tugged to amuse the kids
Like a bonsai tree
Choked for beauty’s sake.

Shit is how I’d describe
The world for its injustice
Its contradicting views
And man-made laws
How the lowly views the highly
How the highly views the lowly
How differing races, religions
And even denominations
Put aside humanity, respect,
Unity and love
Allowing an invisible barrier
Between you and I.

Shit is an expression
Of anger and disillusion
Of an ancient wound
Unable to heal
Of erupting lava
After years of silence
Of pain and hopelessness
In a world full of glitter
Only because the glitter
Is never meant for you.

Shit is a life
Of unfulfilled dreams
Of wood uncarved
For lack of tools
Of forests unexplored
For lack of pioneers
Of a yearning so bad
For something you can never get
Of a passion that screams in silence
Never to be heard.

The Song

This song was written during one of the darkets moments in my life. Things seemed bleak, having gone from bad to worse. I felt so helpless that I couldn't stop the pain, the angst, and deteriorating situation. I loved them and had never stopped praying for that ray of light. Yet, on that day, it seemed like all hope was lost.

The walls, they seemed to laugh at me, scorn at me. Was all in vain? All those tears? All those quiet times? What was happening and what was going to happen? I couldn't comprehend it. Still, as I put pen to paper, and scribbled my pain into words, this song ended with a reassuring note of Hope.


When the curtain falls
And the hall is empty
D'you look in the mirror
And see someone else?

You can shrug it off
Or wear a mask
So no one can tell

Bridge I:
How you pain and you hurt
There's no one you can turn to
You try to be strong
But you're breaking down inside

Chorus:
Jesus, I can't take it no more
Lord help me heal this land
Jesus, only you understand me
Be my strength, Lord, or I'll fall apart

When you're all alone
And the voices get louder
Saying, "Give up, child, you're going nowhere.
He doesn't care and nothing's gonna change.
You're on your own."

Bridge II:
But I look to the skies
I believe in His promises
I'll wait and I'll pray
Till His hand moves the mountain

Repeat Chorus

A Mother's Day Poem

My very first (and only) attempt at a Mother's Day poem. How I got around to this was, my younger brother came up to me one day and said that he needed me to help him choose a Mother's Day card--one with 'nice' words. I don't know what made me do it, but I just told him there and then that I'd write the words for him instead.

Forgive me, Ma

for these hands

that weren't there to help you stand,

for leaving you at a loss

when you needed me most.

Forgive me, Ma

for these eyes

that refused to cry

even as you broke down in tears

for all those heart-breaking years.

Forgive me, Ma

for this icy heart

that refused to melt, even now as we part,

for all those prodigal years

of girls and beers.

Forgive me, Ma

I wish for nothing more than to turn back time,

so I can say "I love you" while you're still fine.

I just want to say, as I hold your palm,

"Happy Mother's Day, from your son."