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Snow . . .

Before Sunrise


* Disclaimer *
these works solely belong to me, unless stated otherwise.
i will and shall not have any responsibility to any degradation of your flawless or atrocious english.
these works are writings in my own style.
i would appreciate any free publicity.

Monday, March 20, 2006

Torture

What can I say, you demonish looking thing.
Sexy curves where I long to touch.
Your swaying hips I long to hold.
Your entire body a sensual beauty,
Your gentle features an innocent one.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Deeply Etched

The air was mild and cool, blanketting the lake - rays of the setting sun.
The hour drew near, as the sun started its rythmless waltz towards shangrila.
The lake an azure blue, rustling with the wind, glistening under the watchful evening sky - A lady's beauty unmatched.
The birds have stopped chirping by now and the trees a dullish green, tinted brighter by the settling mist - a mirage of parody, cheapening the beauty of the lady.
The hour was ending , as the sun finally disappeared sub rosa.
The clear waters, an array of blue transmuting itself into aqua, illuminating itself, the prominent light in darkness.
Dusk ended, with night shadowing the earth. In my fading memory i recall, the waters dissipated its color, fading off into the world of the night......

Monday, August 08, 2005

Angel - Dedication to an Angel

Face so sweet and pure,
An innocent look to show.
Little did i know,
That all she was concealing,
was that naiveness within her.

Hair so smooth and silky,
Eyes not big nor small.
Her nose delicate and sharp.
Her lips soft and gentle,
Her smile that sweeps me off.

Her touch so warm yet cold,
Her gaze so loving yet intruding.
Her face that bears that innocence,
Is just part of something perfect.

January embers, December winters,
Wherever you go, there my heart burns also.
My song a sweet, sad song,
And the tears a bittersweet melancholy.
Breaching my memories, your sweet, kind face.
Trapping me within your internal, eternal embrace.
Enslaved by your chilling, lovely heart.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Titleless - Will give a title when i think of one - discontinued of updates

I am an old man now.
Events of the past flash and go, leaving traces of yester times in my once working memory.

It happened so such a long time ago, I was a boy, of nine or ten.

Thinking back on the things that had happened, I have lived for so many years. I have seen my friends age and die. While I, a living testimonial of a promise I made to her.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The house stood among the greenfields, facing the tranquil sea. The trees around the house swayed along with the wind. Borlo sat by his table at the window, feeling the finely carved grains on his table board, watching the sea in a blank stare, watching the ships with their flickering night light. The window shutters flopped clumsily on its hinges, as the chilly sea breeze invaded the privacy of the warm, homely cottage.

Suddenly, Borlo's eyes opened up with joy.
"Wind!", exclaimed Borlo. "Grandpa! The wind is coming in!"

"Yes Borlo." *Cough* replied a calm grandpa. "I'll put more wood into the fire."

The murmurs of the waves echoed through the house, chorused by the sighing of the willows in the wind. That night, grandpa sat in his rocking chair outside the cottage, enjoying the sea breeze. His hair danced in the wind, as the contours of his face led a smile that glistened under the watchful moonlight.

The wind eventually got the better of him, as his breathing became a little heavier.
"Sigh" *cough* mumbled Grandpa to himself. "My time is up soon."

The floorboards creaked under pressure, as grandpa forced himself to a stand. Grandpa staggered tediously into the cottage, painfully trying to make his legs listen to him.

Grandpa stared into the cackling fire, thinking of how Borlo's mother had died.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Borlo was still a little boy, when his mother died. Grandpa carried Borlo in his arms, as he smiled fondly down at him.

"Borlo, mother has gone to heaven. I will now take care of you. Be brave son." Said Grandpa lovingly, holdinb back his tears.

That night grandpa carried Borlo to sleep. He hummed a little lullaby, as he rocked Borlo in his arms.

"Poor Borlo, what will become of you when I die?" Grandpa mumbled to himself, solemnly.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Grandpa stood over Borlo, running a hand over his forehead, then over his hair.
"My poor boy, what will happen to you, should I die?" Complained grandpa, as he stared fondly into Borlo's face, remorsefully, tenderly, painstakingly.

Grandpa reached over Borlo for his hands, as he held them to sleep, hugging Borlo in his embrace, placing his head down on Borlo's chest, listening to his heartbeat, listening to his breathing, feeling his chest expand and contract.

"Borlo, be brave, my son." Thought grandpa, before closing his eyes to sleep.
====================================================================================

To be continued...

Thursday, June 09, 2005

Bloody Fountain

Upon your wrist, a bloody fountain.
One you thought, would wash your fears.
That which you know wasn't true.
That you know, you shouldn't do.

Upon your wrist, a bloody fountain.
Which you saw, your days go by.
That you knew would not come back,
That you knew had long gone by.

Deep in your wrist, the vessels are screaming.
Within your heart you know it hurts.
The blood that you see, you think its strength,
Keeping you strong, when you THINK NO ONE CARES.

SCREW THIS SHIT THAT YOU'VE BEEN LIVING.
WHY DON'T YOU JUST KILL YOURSELF.
YOUR SELF-PITY AND DEFIANCE,
PULLING YOU THROUGH THE TIDES, YOU THINK.

FOOLISH ACT FROM AN IMMATURE MIND,
FLYING ON WINGS OF A SPARROW, NOT AN EAGLE.
THE BLOOD THAT OOZES BY THE SECOND,
PURE AGONY IN MY AFFLICTION.

I loved and cared, if you didn't know.
I gave and shared, because you're you.
The pain i feel not of my hurtings,
This pain it is, your soul ascreaming.

I said to come, when you were down.
I said to come, when you wanted.
But did you ever took my words to heed?
I guess its pointless, to cross swords.

I get the message, I should leave.
But honestly, I think its true,
Your life's not worth living either way.
Slit your throat or walk the plank.
Rather than sitting there and cutting yourself silly.

Monday, June 06, 2005

Entry to a diary that doesn't exist Dedication to 06/06/03.

How i waited and saw days go by,
sitting around waiting for your phone call.
Your birthdays passed, and so did mine,
We were both, 2 years older.
If u ever knew what 1224 meant,
I guess you would feel, what i felt,
See what i saw, know what i knew,
Lose what i lost.
Tell me darling, tell me dear,
Tell me of things that i do not know.
Why you called me that evening and not anymore.
You do know that i do not know,
what crimes or sins i have done.
You do know that i know nothing or last words you were to say.
Tell me dear, tell me true.
What did i do wrong?
For you to leave, 2 years now.

I miss you dear. I truely do.
Come back to me. I hope you do.

Love,
marcus.

Dear diary,
what was meant to be was meant to be.
I guess i should stop sulking?
Her world goes on even without me.
Each breath i draw, she draws also.
We both live lives of our own.
Tell me diary, am i a fool?

Mathematics - THIS IS NOT MY WORK

Mathematics

This equation should be taught in all math classes!

From a strictly mathematical viewpoint it goes like this:
What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than
100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are
giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings
where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about
achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?

Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you
answer these questions:

If: A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z is
represented as: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.

Then:

H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%

and K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%

But,

A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

And,

B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%

AND, look how far butt kissing will take you.

B-U-T-T-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
2+21+20+20+11+9+19+19+9+14+7 = 151%

So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that
While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and
Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Butt kissing
that will put you over the top.

Contributed by: Joe Lawson

Saturday, June 04, 2005

wishing.

I didn't mean to irriate you, but how i wish you would just talk to me.
Many ways i tried to attract your attention, but many times you turned away.
How i wish you would just turn your head and glance at me,
Move those soft lips and say sweet nothings.

There i stood watching, hoping she would turn back to look at me.
There i stood watching, hoping she realise that i'm behind her.
There i stood watching, eyes eager with anticipation, hoping, waiting, pleading.

In that room that night, the music was soft, barely audible.
Somehow, the music was perfect. No matter how soft it was to me,
The music flooded my mind, caressing my senses, touching my soul.
I saw you sitting there, right across me.
How i wish i was beside you, how i wish we were alone.
All I wanted to say were few words.
Words that should have came long ago, words that go something like,
Do Be Mine.

How i've tried to sit and face you, how i tried to get your attention.
You did not know what jealousy was, as i saw you in another man's touch.
Time is precious, time is frail.
I sat across you, staring, gazing, into those beautiful, beautiful eyes.
Melting in your occasional smiles and laughters, just hoping, waiting,
Wishing that you would just so take a look at me.




PROFILE

Marcus a.k.a Demented Tubist
alias
tubby custard
20 Apr 1988

Loves :
Jies n Meis
Best friends
Basketball
Playing Music
Composing
Writing



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