Monday, March 31, 2003

While the rest of the entire nation is busy avoiding a SARS pandemic, my entire body has been nothing but a feeding ground for mosquitoes. The remains of their settlements exist in the itches on my skin.

Confession


Is this the fault of my innocence
Or the offspring of my ignorance
Could I make this point to you
before I depart in silence
Will I get to see you
though you are so faraway
with all darkness around me
Could you hear what I have to say

The fruit I saw
was the thorn in my flesh
Take it away from me
I'm about to crash
What I saw as beauty
Has now become my bane
Can you feel my sadness
Can you see my pain
The sins of my soul
now laid on the dust
nothing I know
is going to last

What made you hear me
and why should you
I'm bound in chains
with no way through
You took them away
and brought me to your side
and said "I'll never let you go
never let you die
will keep you safe
from dusk till dawn
never let you out of my sight"

Thursday, March 27, 2003

He said to me, "God created you for a reason...you need to find it..."

Identity

Was it always you and me
for all eternity
placing myself
in your reality
Faced temptation
to risk condemnation
I bleed to try
to keep the truth from the lies
I took to my own
and went away
Closed my heart
to the things that you said

I became confused
nothing left to choose
Became a waste
it was you
I couldn't face
But you came to me
spoke to me
returned to me
my identity

Monday, March 24, 2003

"Lyrical development...hiphop style"

Voice of my conscience

Have you ever felt the aftermath of all deadly sin
It's a psychomanical temptation
that you give in
I told a pretty little white lie
and it all came to light
the guilt I felt it took me in and brought me right to your sight
the shame the pain the fear the misery
that I felt inside
was more than just the simple fact of wrong and the right
when I heard the voice of an old friend comin right in my head
I knew I could never run away from all the things that he said

Hey Mr. conscience won't you listen to me
you've got this thing in my head
so please listen to me
I've got this one single shot for the judgement to be
so I've gotta fix this life of mine for all eternity

Ricky was so poor he couldn't pay all his bills
his friends in town they traded dope
and ice for all of the thrills
so he made the deal and took the kill and bagged all the pills
It really didn't matter that much
to know how he would feel
so he faced the fear and shed no tear and was on his way
Never knew that he had to meet the cops
and boy he did pay
As he was sitting in the darkness
of his own little cell
told all these things to an old friend through a dark mental spell

Hey Mr. conscience won't you listen to me
you've got this thing in my head
so please listen to me
I've got this one single shot for the judgement to be
so I've gotta fix this life of mine for all eternity

Mr Jones caught his wife and lover lying in bed
the hopes and dreams he had with her
were now the lies that she said
he felt the madness growin in his mind
he was gonna give in
he got the gun to face the both of them
and started bustin
he saw the dead and blood-stained faces staring into his eyes
dropped right down onto his knees and he started to cry
a distant voice he heard so clear in the confines of his head
the final shot went into him right after he said

Hey Mr. conscience won't you listen to me
you've got this thing in my head
so please listen to me
I've got this one single shot for the judgement to be
so I've gotta fix this life of mine for all eternity

Sunday, March 23, 2003

Went to church this weekend...great music...dynamic preacher...excellent presentation..wondered if it really came from the heart...or was it literally just a show??

Mr Simon

Mr Simon entered the large hall of the church. It was an impresive building, large grey marble walls, an artificial fountain in the courtyard and an underground auditorium the size of a stadium. This was the fruit of man's religious dedication and piety, an urban highlight to pierce the darkness of man's sin and shame. He had only been here a couple of times, but the people there greeted his presence with well wishes and smiles.

Mr Simon was old. He was 95 this year and the mobility of his limbs and the functionality of his organs were in rapid degeneration. He was bound to a wheelchair, and he didn't talk much, save for the occasional mumurs that the nurse translated into audible sentences. She wheeled him into the hall, service was about to begin.
"Ladies and gentlemen! we're gonna have a great time of worship today!"
His round droopy eyes lighted.
"So let's get on our hands and feet and sing!"
The crowd cheered. His hands trembled. The music roared into his ears.
Fifteen minutes. He started to shiver, sweat was streaming down his face, he couldn't breathe. He closed his eyes, his hand dropped. Mr Simon was no more.

It was like any other day in heaven. White mammoth clouds, with choirs of angels singing in the undying halls and saints walking on air,smiling at one another. Raphael sat outside the entrance of the Heptagon, the chief office of God. He scratched his head, his two snowy wings beating against each other, his curiosity was inducing deep contemplation. Satellite-D, which broadacasted global services to the citizens of heaven, showed a strange phenomenon-there were thousands of pepople in one church all singing and praising God, but only one voice, the voice of Mr Simon was heard.
Raphael checked the controls, the circuitry was in place, so there wasn't a problem with sound transmission. (nothing goes wrong up there anyway) He adjusted the volume on his remote control, but he still failed to hear the voices of the masses. Something isn't right, he thought. He was a young cherub, as he started existing for a couple of centuries, so he didn't knew as much as the likes of Mike and Gabe. As he was unable to solve the problem, he decided to ask God for help.
God smiled at little Raphael. He was young, inquisitive and loved hearing God speak of mysteries and truths pertaining to the universe. This time, however it was about a TV show.
"Why could I hear only Mr Simon's voice?" the angel asked.
"Well, he was taken up here shortly after, right?" God replied. Of course he knew where Mr Simon was, he was merely being mysterious.
"Yeah, but that's not important...why couldn't I hear the others singing?"
"Ah, Raph, what is it in Man that matters most to me?"
"His heart?" Raphael knew his boss was up to something, he just didn't knew what it was.
"Yes, the heart. In that church, only Mr Simon's heart was singing to me."

Thursday, March 20, 2003

Arrogant Americans...they think the world owes it to them...destroyed the native indians for land...and now bombing arabs for oil...its sad. From where I am, a potential outbreak has arisen...an atypical strain of pneumonia...our lives are in danger. Ladies and gentlemen, the end of the world as we know it....


The Burning Stars
Young Iqbal peered into the twilight sky from the window in his room. He was afraid. His grandfather had told him about the atrocities of an impending war. The bustling city life of Baghdad, his home, it was all coming to an end. He would dream of death, of cries of torture resonating from the aftermath of gunfire, and he would wake up crying. Life during the day failed to bring comfort to the boy. The streets were filled with sandbags and barbed wire, shops were closed, and soldiers kept vigilant. Iqbal was hungry, but food was scarce. His family did not have a decent meal for the last few weeks. His father had taken up arms yesterday, and he begged him not to go. "Don't leave, Papa" he said, "Don't leave us alone." The man, his eyes moved to tears, wrapped his arms around Iqbal and left.
A blast. It came so suddenly. Iqbal could see bright flshes of lights in the dark, minutes after the wails of the sirens alerted the entire town. Sporadic explosions, sounds of planes hovering above. He rushed underneath his bed and hid there. He closed his eyes and cried. His dreams had become a reality, he had seen the burning stars

Tuesday, March 18, 2003

I have a couple of abrasions on my palms and feet...was made to bear crawl round the swimming pool as part of our training. I'm very sure, we're not related to apes at all. We are human beings that walk on two legs

You and I


Here I am
on a sea of blue
The skies above
an image of you
I am free
devoid of fear
Born again
with you so near
You save me
to break my fall
I awake
to heed your call
You and I
never apart
Loving peace
dwells in my heart
Take my hand
your touch of grace

Here I am
I see your face



Saturday, March 15, 2003

We watched you grow up...you were our friend...one of us even loved you. He gave you everything. To him you were more important than anything this world could offer. If only there was one thing that I would really respect about you, it would be the fact that you were with him for so long. Sadly, your own materialistic ambitions drove the both of you apart. You desired glamour, the rich life, luxuries that he never could provide. We still kept you in our hearts, every now and then we would meet up and catch up on old times. Now you will be going away, I do not know when we will meet again. If we do, would you have changed?? Will the 3 of us still remain the same?

Little Elva


My car stopped outside his house. Brian, my closest friend for almost twenty years. Its funny how we never fell apart, when all the friendships around us faded away. There was a time when the tabloids speculated that we were a gay couple...it was a load of crap. Leading a life of a performer was tough, I wished that I never had to cut commercial deals, or sit in for those irritiating press conferences. I loved to go on stage, whack my rhymes, and retreat back to my small studio, to dream up more tunes. I enjoyed acting, getting to star in a local sitcom and even co-directed a motion picture. My work took me all over the world, I rarely came home, but thankfully saved enough money to get a car, buy my parents a new house, and yeah, pay all my bills.

Brian, I never lost touch with him, no matter what happened. He always looked to me for advice. Since young, he called me his walking dictionary. I would tell him all the things he needed to know. He was highly self-conscious, yet flamboyant. He loved fashion, art and cuttlefish. He wanted to be an accountant, but deicded to open his own boutique after graduation. Now, his business was booming, his line of clothes becoming a household name...

"Uncle~!", a cute little girl of 5 opened the door. It's our 'niece'. She's dark, has a sharp pointed Cleopetra's nose, and slit-almond eyes.
" She is starting to look more like her mom", I said as Brian took his seat in the living room. He planted a kiss on her cheek and sent her off to play with her Lego.
"Yeah, she's a darling, if only her mom could see how beautiful she is..." There was a sign of weariness in his eyes.
Managing his company, looking after Elva, it was a tough burden to bear. But if he didn't take her, who would? It was the mother's last wish, the slip of paper on the hospital bed, before we knew she had been discharged. She just left without saying goodbye, she couldn't bring the child up. No, not with the life she was leading. She knew who the father was, but she wouldn't tell us. I believed it must be that jerk who asked her to go to England with him, and cheated her, left her all alone there, until Brian came...
"Its been hard on you, but its been so long, why can't you tell Vince about it?" I asked.
It was the same question. Vince, the only who should have known but couldn't. He loved Elva's mom more than anything in this world. He would do anything for her. If not for the fact that she told Brian not to tell Vince about the kid, we would have taken the kid to him. She couldn't face him, not after what she had done. She thought that if he knew about Elva, he would harm the kid. How silly can she be? Even if she came back to him now, he would still be there for her.
Brian closed his eyes for a moment. "Sometimes, I wonder, why must it be me? Why did I have to take reponsibility for someone's foolish actions. Why couldn't she have asked you or Liz to do it?" Liz was her closest girlfriend, now a singing sensation, whom I wrote a couple of songs for. Used to like her alot when she was in college. Now, she's just a singer who hates kids.
" It has got to end somewhere, Vince has to know. He's the only one who can be a father to her. We all know, if Elva's mom comes back one day, you want her to tell him everything right?" He remained silent. "I'm taking Elva to Hongkong," I said
Brian was stunned. "Please, don't make this harder than it already is!"
He was worried. Vince had been staying in HK ever since he made it big in the property business.
I put my hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, I will take care of her...if I know that he's still hostile, I will bring her back..."

We took the morning flight the next day. There were a few reporters at the airport. Nosey folks who wanted to blow up a story of me and a little girl. I left them with a short answer, and boarded the plane. Its great having Elva around on my trips. Took her out a couple of times, when Brian wanted to take a breather, and brought her along wherever I went. She asks really interesting questions, a trait she picked up from him, and its always a joy to answer them. This time she seemed rather quiet. Was it because she knew where I was taking her?

We went to Ming Towers, after a day's rest at the hotel. I was not well known here, so it was good that the paparazzi weren't around. I had called Vince's secretary to arrange an appointment. I was in luck, he had just came back from Taiwan to settle the deal of the new trade center. 2pm after lunch.

I knocked on the door to his office. Huge 8-ft pine doors, with the sign of the dragon crafted onto its frame. This was the penthouse. The highest floor in the 250 storey building. He built his empire, taking big risks, single-handedly.
"Hey Joe!," he exclaimed as I walked in with Elva.
He put his hands around me. It was a warm embrace. Its been almost 2 years since we saw each other. The last time was when I came down to HK to help Liz produce her sophomore album. She had this thing for him, people thought they were really going to hit it off. Nah, she's too much to handle.
"Its been a long time, Vince," I said. "Would like you to meet someone," I turned to Elva who was hiding behind me. "Hey Elva, say hi to uncle Vince". The girl gave a shy hello, she was usually very apprehensive of strangers.
"Oh man! Can't believe it Joe, all those things they say about you are true? You are a father!"
"It's not mine Vince, its hers."

He stood silent, the look in my eyes told him everything. He knew that instant who she was, and why I had came here.
"No it can't be...it just can't...is this some kinda joke?" He stepped back with a cynical laugh.
"No, its not. Elva is her daughter" The girl now stood next to me, her eyes in total bewilderment.
Vince scowled. "So what is this you're bringing here? Some bastard child that bitch wants me to have?" He may have said alot of nasty things, but I knew deep inside he did not mean it.
"I'm sorry, I know I should have told you earlier. I've been wanting to, if not for Brian".
"Damn, it's always Brian right? She's always telling him everything, even when we broke up. You know they should have been together right from the start!" He mocked. She would tell Brian everything, and Vince would always be the last to know.
"Its time to put this thing to a close, Vince. It has taken its toll on all of us. Brian has taken it upon himself to bring the child up. C'mon, just look at her, " Elva was sitting on the sofa, staring at the both of us. "She's innocent, and she doesn't even know who her mommy is. Every day, she asks us this question 'where is mommy' and we can't tell her the truth. You know how painful is that? I know you still want her to come back. We all do. But we can't find her now. If there was one thing in her heart that she didn't tell you, it was that you would take care of Elva as your own."

His eyes were red. it had been too much for him. All these years he lived only for her mother, he didn't care what his life was worth. He took a gamble everytime he wanted to hit big, hoping one day he would be rich enough to bring her back, no matter what the cost. He walked over to Elva, she reminded him so much of her mom. It was the only thing she left behind for him.
"How old are you, Elva?" he asked.
"I'm five," she replied. she stared at him briefly and looked down.
He placed his hands on her head, and looked at me. It was that expression of confidence, the part of him I had learned to respect. He turned back to look at her, "Don't worry Elva, we'll find your mommy. no matter what."

Tuesday, March 11, 2003

Prayer

Its been a long time since we talked...yeah, I may have come to you for help once in a while, but it was always for my own sefish reasons. Remember the first time we met? It all seemed so long ago, a prayer of a child, borne on wings of angels and sealed with a kiss from heaven. It was so beautiful, ethereal. You brought me into your world, and I walked with you along the shores of my consciousness. The things you said to me made me more like you as I grew. You taught me to laugh, to cry, to feel, to love. When the darkness came to take me, I waited patiently for you to hear my cry. You brought me out from the chasms of despair. I had thorns pierced onto my epidermal covering, you took them and bled for me, for you could not bear to see me cry, to be left alone to die.

I grew, I changed...you still remained the same, always there for me. It was me all along, I drifted away from the love we had. My life became a blind journey, a fruitless chase of the wind. I would sleep and dream, the monsters tearing into my soul, and you were no longer there anymore. I had everything, but I lost myself, how could I be liberated from this emptiness I felt? I knew you could never be denied, running away from you, but you are still there, always waiting for me to run back to you, to be the child I once was, knowing you will protect me from all evil. It is my fault, I thought I could fight this alone, that I was brave enough to stand against everythng, even you. I questioned you, doubted you, even betrayed you, but you still took me in, a wretched soul undeserving of salvation. I need you.

Saw those veggie gals having a demonstration on TV. How lame can that be? Don't they know that animals have no soul? Greens are good for health, but what's so inhuman about putting chickens in a cage anyway? Ah, should check out this babe, Steph Song, she's so hot, my eyeballs nearly melted when I saw her...

Monday, March 10, 2003

I'm 21 today...so let's see what presents I've got ...hmm...a pair Levi's type 1 jeans ...a SIGG water bottle...a Nike arm band...and of course a $100 shopping voucher...I'm still not sure how I'm gonna use that though...

Memories -21 years ago, in a hospital on a hill, a child was born. He was red, thick-haired and posessed a pair of striking dark eyes. To his parents, he was beautiful, and he grew up to be adored by everyone around him. No one thought he was chinese, many felt he was mixed. But his parents knew better; this kid was special....


Years passed, this kid went to school and adopted the life of any decent human being. He loved english, sucked at math, and achieved mediocre results. He was a big fan of Michael Jackson. Everytime, he would turn on the radio or player, and he would dance, swing, and moonwalk just like the King of Pop. His father, a staunch puritant, saw such talents as worldly, and forbid him to indulge in all entertainment activities. Instead he made the boy read the Bible and recite countless verses, pretty much like a monastery.


Adolesecence...too many it was the prime of their lives. Unfortunately, for him, life was not a bed of roses. He grew to be somewhat deformed. He had crooked teeth, curly hair, bulging myopic eyes and a small, scrawny physique. He was despised, scoffed, and bullied. Boys didn't hesitate to humiliate him, girls simply avoided him. He tried to be funny, but his jokes " tasted like shit" Even his own family had problems living with him. Lonely, dejected and withdrawn, he often shut himself in his room, praying, reading and writing. It became a source of escape for him, a channel where he expressed all his frustrations, dreams, fantasies, and hope. Often he would talk to himself, imagining a friend who would stand by him, and always listen to him....

1997-1998, the HK gangsta culture was alive and well. Kids everywhere wore tight shirts, with long neon-pants and
and rectangle wallets potruding out from their pockets. The boy met two friends who became his bosom buddies. A semi-gay, who loved ogling at hunks and showing off his wardrobe, and a ruffian, who lived and loved for the moment. He shaved his head, to rid his hair of the snowy dandruff, wore braces, and took a new hobby...rapping. Everyone thought he was mad. From where he came from, hip-hop wasn't even born yet. The boy didn't care bout them, he loved rhyming, makin beats, makin jokes, acting, and most of all, a gal named Jane. She inspired him, the only gal who would smile and talk to him. Yeah, she had a guy, so she never fell for him. He pushed on, the pressure ran higher when he took part in a rap competition. He got his class, a whole buncha unbelievers, to back him on this one. They agreed only becase his two buddies were the most influential figures in school.
He went for the auditions, got thru to the semis, made it to the final. He was a dark horse. No one knew him, he was no star, no fame no cash and no car. He went on stage, took the mic, and blew the crowd away to become the champion. (with his class as backing vocals) A talent was born.

He graduated, and decided, to join a performing arts team, touring the country and abroad to spread the teachings of Christ. He learnt a great deal from them- discipline, team work and perseverance. He had a taste of fame, young gals screaming his name, signing autographs, asking him out...it was overwhelming. His life seemed so different, so faraway from the tortured soul he once was, or was it..maybe it was two sides of the same coin after all. He went back to college, to major in biotechnology. He wanted to get away from it all, the fast-paced life of the stage. He studied hard, represented his school in cross-country, and had a brief fling with an older gal who had a lot of growing up to do. He went to UK, for a job attachment, and thoroughly enjoyed his stay there. He seem to lead a normal life, but he knew his passion was on stage, where the dancing and acting made him who he was. He made a comeback, this time a much older person, who knew the true significance of what he was made for, until he was conscripted into the army....


He has known a great deal about himself . He's still learning, every single day.

Thursday, March 06, 2003

Damn... the weather is blistering hot, even a good swim in the pool could not alleviate my suffering, it simply carbonized my skin

An intermission in my mind- it's her again Her face,changes with each passing encounter, formless and empty. A nymph from the depths of my imagination, who comes to take me away from reality, from conscience. It is those eyes, dark blue irises that bring me back to the same fate countless lifetimes before. We lived, we loved, we died. Our souls bound to the same destiny, against our wills, igniting our desires....

My eyes open, night has come. I can sense her, feel her, yet I do not know where she is. I have not seen her, but I am aware of her presence. The moon smiles at me, it is the Cheshire cat. He watches over us under the cover of night. Perhaps he knows where I might find her. But then again, should I? It would lead me back the same path of self-destruction. Why be stung by the thorns of passion? I am confounded, can I abandon all that I have to find her? She is the darkness that blinds my soul, where all logic breeds madness, and wisdom begets folly...

I love beautiful women, they create dreams for my eyes. People think it's a perverse obsession...but what's wrong with admiring a wonderful work of art?

Monday, March 03, 2003

The Stone Temple

My feet lay embedded in the sand, scorched to amber. I ambled towards the gate, weary and in grave pain. At the pillars stood, two towering figures, guardians of the sanctuary. They were women, with a beard that grew from their chin and eyes that were fixed to the skies, gaping in terror. They crossed their arms on each shoulder, to lay a cover for their naked breasts. From their genitals a fall of blood flowed down into the barren land, forming two rivers that gradually dissipated with the screaming wind.


The gates opened, and the two menacing statues turned their eyes toward me, their gaze remained dark and piercing. I made way up the steps to the temple, towards the inner cryptic halls, where I would face the fear, the evil that once made me into what I was.


I walked into the chamber. It was quiet, the air was wrecked with a stench of death. I found the mirror, the glass that casted reflections of the human heart. I stared into it, and it felt me, searched me and burned me. My sight became a haze, and I was brought into the apparition...


Caught in the rushing sea. The waters slashing their waves over me. Overwhelmed, alone, I heard only the cries of the tide and the palpitations of my heart. I struggled for breath, for life, for all that I can ever hope to have. My mind was caving into the darkness. I closed my eyes, sinking into the chasm of despair. My heart cried out to the skies, the final straw of hope. It was fragile, but not unheard. You came down, took me in your arms. My body freezing cold, but finding comfort, as I lay to rest in the shadow of your wings.


My eyes opened. The mirror was gone, and I turned to leave the stone temple. The sky was pitch black, adorned with glitters of the stars that christened the dawn of the world. You were there, in the midst of it all, my trial, my war with the stigma of fear. You enabled me to prevail, to overcome, to emerge a new person.


"These scars bear the mark of change"