Saturday, September 16, 2006

...and the more sleepless nights...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you...

Day of the Pious,
16th dawn month Gerst-monath,
Year of the Caminus Canis,

First day of the ninth month of being a Slave to a Slave...

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

A NOTE WITH NO RHYME
___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

THE LAND EAST FROM HERE

there is a place in the east,
where man once were treated as burden beast,
and tears fertelize another's bliss,
where whiplash would replace a kiss,
live a man with part of his mind amiss,
forgoting the day a kris fought a christ,
remembering the day filled with blessing of a hiss,
loving the sap from a whore tities,
lavishing in lavender confusing tease.

there is a place opposite the west,
where man once laid in unholy rest,
and laughter is known by the screaming laughter of a warrior crest,
and virtues where kept in buried heavy chest,
live a man known least than best,
who wore rags of the players of chess,
and think of thoughts seen to other no more than a mess,
and held high no higher than a slave shoe dress.

there is a place in east and west mid,
where man's heart hid,
not knowing where he would bid,
in a name lost in two creed,
or to take the two composite,
or left it where lost wills writ,
knowing knot why his papa grits.

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

In another time,
another tale will come.
maybe,
of the things,
the Demon saw as a Slave to a Slave.
but for now,
the Demon would only want to rest.

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo
_______THANK YOU_______
_______O_______

Thursday, September 14, 2006

...and i'm still waiting for the day that has not come...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

Hari Buda-Pon Watu Gunung,
Gelincir hari ke 19 bulan ruwah,
Tahun Alip,

Hari ke 30 bulan kedelapan menjadi Hamba kepada Hamba...

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

LADY ICE, SCRAWNY SCARECROW
(for now, this post will be the end for this story first written on 31st May 2006, until the day comes that The Master Dealer dealt a hand that will truly finalize this tale)

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

Once upon a time, when life is as simple as a baby's mind, lived a Scarecrow in a field owned by a gracious farmer and his sweet sweet wife.

The field was once a barren land, beautify only by dust and rivaled only by the orangey dust called sand.

But, that stop not the farmer, well let us call him - Hewhogodhathhelped, and his wife, well lets just call her TheWife, from toiling and sweating to make the once barren land fertile. They have toiled hard, they have sweat like thunder storms in the violent Northern Seas, but none and none could stop them nor yield them from making the land as it is now.

The land wher they worked their field, is an odd land. The rain that falls were like drops of sweet poison, having teh effect somewhat similar to what too much sugar could do your body (heck! Even to your sweet sex life, but that a story for another time).

But no matter how corrosive and damaging the rain was, farmer Hewhogodhathhelped and TheWive worked their field with much patient, dextirity, pride and strength. Touched by their strength, mother earth lets free her breasts and drops of her sweet sweet milk wets the thirst of the fields' thirsty throat.

Thus sprouts golden grains and velvet roses fencing the once barren field...

But, like the fate of so many lush fields which were blessed by the sweet savory dews of mother earth's sweet succulent breasts, envy would come to haunt the angelically devilish tweeties hearts that enticed them to swoop down from the sky that they roam to the fertile once barren land and heavenly peck on the golden grains.

And like so many men and women who have slaved for their land, anger comes to visit the hearts of Hewhogodhathhelped and TheWive when seeing the land that they toiled in raped and the child of their labor heavenly pecked by the bubbly cheeky chirping birds.

"Something must be done!" Hewhogodhathhelped cried, "Something must be done!" their TheWive cried, "Something will be done!" both chided in respond.

Thus, in an act of defying defence, in a cold hot night, again they both labored marking the birth of a handsome ugly scarecrow. When the cold sun of morn wake from his slumber and when his bright chase the hotness of a cold night, the world felt the first cold hot breath of a colorful lifeless being - the young stupid, scarecrow.

"Ahhhhh... what a handsomely ugly thing you are nameless scarecrow, what a handsomely ugly being you are..." said farmer Hewhogodhathhelped to the soulless smiling scarecrow.

"But farmer Hewhogodhathhelped," interrupts TheWive, "We have yet to name him, we should name him you know that don't you not?" ask TheWive.

"Yes we should," answered farmer Hewhogodhathhelped.

"Hmmmmm...a name,a name,a name...what should we name him..." both wondered in their simple minds.

"Ahhhh... I know!" cried farmer Hewhogodhathhelped, "Since we conceive him during the cold hot night, and complete him in the presence of the hot cold ray of morn, we shall call him LightOfLight - as he would be like the blinding lights that shine many many paths!" he says to his acknowledging wive.

And thus, the scrawny scarecrow began his inanimate life bearing the name LightOfLight, shouldering the responsibility of the blinding light. For thirty and a half cycles of the four seasons have past by the pavements and paths were men walk, the kitchens and living rooms where women reign, past the fields and streams where children played and past the beds and graves where pleasures gained and pleasures lost.

The scrawny scarecrow stood loyally in the midst of the golden grains of the couple toils. He stood steadfastly guarding the couple physical breath fro the envious orioles and malicious magpies. He guard the field well, so well that the enviousness and malice of the birds turn to respect that develops into friendship.

A treaty thus is made between the farming couple and the once demonically angelic birds. Mediated by the scrawny scarecrow, the farming couple agreed that a portion of their harvest would be given to the birds, in return, they would turn their envious bellies and malicious greed on the pest that ridden the fields.

Hmmm... the straws that served as the scarecrow's brain have some worth after all.

Life henceforth for the farming couple, the birds and the scrawny LightOfLight is blessed with peace, happiness, tranquility and bright shining smile. Somewhere along the multitude of the four season's cycles, LightOfLight chance upon a gem in the form of a friendship. To a soul such as he is, this was a rare find.

Fate has crossed his inanimate path with a scholar, well let us name him SouthernScholar.The SouthernScholar came from a long long line of men of wisdom. For more than 10 cycles of the four seasons their friendship blooms. The Scrawny Scarecrow trusts him with all his hollowed heart. No secrets, hatred, nor being stand as a barrier wall between them.

Until one glittering blacken shinning sunny day, where TheHand dealt the card of fate quit differently.From the five cards taken from deck of fate, a wildcard embossed with a twisted black heart emerged.

On that day, the rags that serve as The Scrawny Scarecrow's heart is given drops of reddish liquid that looks like blood. On that fateful day, The Scrawny fell for a lady of night. A lady that is dear (in a different way) to the SouthernScholar.

As surprising as it happened, so does the friendship that has blooms between The (stupid) Scrawny Scarecrow and the SouthernScholar. No more of the trust, nor loyalty, nor respect in the SouthernShcolar existence for the Scrawny Scarecrow. What is left, is all of the opposite.

And it never has changed since then. And the Scrawny Scarecrow is left as he was created - lonely and sad.

Hence, due to the unwarranted loneliness that has plague his hay-filled heart, he starts to wonder and roam the earth, not with his feet but with the his mind that has constantly been fed by the chirps of the once devilish angelic birds.

The travels that his mind went feed little bits of crumbs of happiness to him.

With those bits of crumbs of happiness, he stood steadfast, guarding the child of farmer Hewhogodhathhelped and his wife. He gave no sigh nor groans nor qualms nor complaints.No matter what pain that the acidic rain brings, nor what agonizing burn the sun spit, he stood still with a silent smile. No tears of his were seen by them nor by the birds nor by the ploughing cows.

His pain and sorrow are his own. His smile and laughter are for all.

Many a time has the Scarecrow thought, when shall all this end. Would it end when life has fled his lidless eyes, or his smile would only be alive in the memories of sands blewn by the winds? Or maybe, just maybe it would end when time itself ends. No answers came to these thoughtless questions of his.

Yet, continue he does to spot his twice inverted smile, shade his tears with sweats due to the scorching sun.

Until one day. Until that one fatefull day...

On that fatefull day, the cards of life is once again dealt in a mysterious way.

On that fate full day, the once barren field of gold was blanketed by cool whiteness - it snowed on this land which was blessed by the sweet drops of mother earth's breasts. A never before seen joyous day came to visit the people of this once cursed now blessed land. villagers youg and old, warriors and widowers, virgins and spinters came out and dance in the purest of nature's white.

But, the snows that falls ever so gently on the once barren earth is not the only mystery that occur that day. There is another.

For reasons known only by the dealer of life fate, the snow that falls congregrate in a mysteriously large amount just some few feet from the place where the ever twice inverted smiling Scarecrow stood.

There, it developed in to a tall mount - as tall as the Scarecrow. When all the snow had finally decended, the rays of the sun carved it into the most beautiful shape none have ever seen before in this land.

The sun carved it into the shape of a lady - a princess of haven's throne.

Such a beautiful sight for the lonely scarecrow's souless eyes. A sight comparable only to the morn sun of autumn. Shy the screcrow is, as he realise that his existence is but of haggering hays and shaggering rags.

But as always, and as forever has, he kept his twice inverted smile steady. Unknowingly something warm starts to grow in his hay filled chest. Warm sensation makes his chest pulsated. Picking pace day by day.

The pulses bring both awe and woos, both calm and chaos, both sooth and sadness.

"What is happening to me," he wondered...

For thirty lapse of the moon and sun the wnigmatic pulse haunts and blessed him. And every minutes of that time he never cease to wonder what is happening to him.

Until one very fine beautiful dusk, a speck of ray was reflected from the perfect carvings that form the Ice Lady eye's and like an arrow fired by a skillful marksman, it struck deep into LighofLight the Scarecrow souless eye's and down to the now thundering pulse of his hay filled chest...

Like the scream of a petrified warrior facing deathtifing defeat, the pulse of his heart paced faster and faster. Time for him is no different than than a mammoth frozen in ancient ice. All seem to stood still as the horrendous scarecrow fell deep into the thornfull brace of love.

Yes, the scarecrow has fallen in love and what sweet feeling love is - too sweet that it hurts.

For eight cycles of the seasons LightofLight the Scarecrow slumbered in beatiful masks of an ugly dream. Once too many of times in between the beautiful twirls and turns of the season's dance the scrawny scarecrow trip and tumble and be wounded, but, like a reflection of the sunlight, the wounds is hidden behind the sweetness of love - no different than the truthful searing ray of a midday sun reflected by a curved mirror.

For countless times and in countless occasions, he was wounded. What he put on shrines of respect and pure white love is moved by the Ice Lady moved to places where the hair of a broom would certainly kiss. "Patient bitterfull heart, all this would come to pass, love would mend all things broken..." would he whisper to his questioning concious and running tears, "love would mend all things broken..."

Such a fool the Scrawny Scarecrow is, such a pathetic fool he is...

For a heart that was made from the decaying strands of straws fit only as food to the silly cows that moos in complete ignorance, myths that tell tales that love would mend all things impaired and broken would drew not only carved smiles, but also intangible shrines of doubtfully divinely dizziying hope.

But, as all myths are, they remain as entertaining bed time stories to thwart fears of unseen but real demons that lurks in silent dark nights from the minds of innocent little childrens laying hopelessly in their beds. Once the story ended, and the storyteller left, the child would lay with eyes wide open in the embrace of the frightfull shadows that dance eerily softly to the sordid chimes of a moonless night eulogy.

Such is the fate of the Scrawny Scarecrow.

For the past ninety lapses of Apollo's and Diana's dance, the Scraecrow sleeps with eyes wide open hoping that the nightmare of painfull torments of love would once again be the sweet dreams told in happy ending folklores. But, much like the voice of a single ray in a dark cave, his hopes remain seen, yet untouchable by the drums that ferterlize meaningless vibrations into beautiful words in the ears of the Hands that Shuffle the Decks of life.

This nightmare has made every single steps taken by the king and queen of the twenty four kingdom of time agonizingly searingly sweet for the Scrawny Scarecrow...

For all the times that the Scrawny Scarecrow have live in this sweet nightmare, he has shoulder all the frostbites and cold taht shine form the Lady Ice glittering heart.

In his mind, he has always be humbled by the thoughts that, as all man are great scultures of God, all man could be carved and mend whenever wherever there are flaws in the design.
And as man could be mend, so thus the handyworks of man. Always, always he has hope and prayed that one day the ice that form the Ice Lady's figure would one radiate warmth not chills that make even the hottest of hell's fire froze.

But as time past by, he grew weary and weary. By each passings of a single grain of time's sand, the sweet nightmares turn beautifully ugly and ugly. He is scared.

Scared to have watched the sweet singing of teh birds that has befriended him for so long began to turn in sad sad songs. He trembles each day to see the beautiful fence of red red rose and golden shining grains kept fading and fading.

He lost love when gaining love...

He knows not what fate that lies ahead for him. All that he know is, each passing of time, he longed more and more that the bizarre clouds that birth the Ice Lady would one again come, this time, bringing her a companion made from the same icy substance that made her.

He longed for it much.

- ended, till another end develop -

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

CINTA KASIH SAYANG
Sayang,

takkan ku kira banyaknya bintang,
atau laut api akan ku renang,
mahu ku tahan pedih yang bergantang,
atau ku redah bukit penuh seludang,
mahu ku menari berkalang pedang,
hanya untuk memanggil mu sayang.

Cinta,

takkan ku teguh menahan nista,
mahu ku lebuh mimpi ku cita,
atau ku tubuh intan menara,
mahu ku geruh api dan bara,
atau ku suluh mentari menyala,
hanya untuk membukti kau ku cinta.

Kasih,

takkan ku sisih kurap yang pedih,
atau ku siang daging yang lebih,
mahu ku sisih sireh yang ku surih,
atau ku sapu kusam peluh yang jerih,
mahu ku sisir janggut yang bersilih,
hanya untuk mengucapkan kasih.

Namun,

antara dua sirih,
bijaklah kau pilih,
agar ternampak kasih,
di balik cinta yang bersih,
kelak suburlah sayang,
dan bermiliklah tubuh yang tersorok di balik bayang.

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

hadap irama cengkerik yang lain nanti,
jemari lacur ini akan menari lagi,
hadap irama cengkrik yang kian lewat ini,
jemari lacur ini ingin labuh di jeti mentari...

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo
_______THANK YOU_______
_______O_______

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

...and i have yet to stop falling...

Assalamualaikum and peace be upon you…

Day of the Terribles,
12th dawn of the month Gerst-monath,
Year of the Caminus Canis.

29th day of the 8th month of being a Slave to a Slave...

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

LADY ICE, SCRAWNY SCARECROW
(this and every posts after are the continued versions of the story first written on 31st May 2006)

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo


___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo

The Other Side of the Moon

said a lover to a lover,
such beauty the sky uncover,
such whiteness and purity that seem to last forever,
makes hate's heart quiver and shiver...

said a husband to a wife,
night be silent not meaning there's not life,
night be shine by those that strive,
as an offering to a bearer my dreams archived....
said a father to a son,
i'm rested when darkness brace the sun,
i'm blessed with the howl of a moon son,
marks my rest after we a day that we have run...

said an aged to the young,
rest the hatred that you have sung,
rest it best cause its's time your mother pick the clothes that she has strung,
for there's once too many her heart you wronged...

said my shadow to my soul,
come night why must you foul,
listen close to the song of an owl,
telling the time when this body in earth it cowls.

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo
In another time,
another tale will come...
maybe,
of the things the Demon saw as a Slave to a Slave...

but for now,
the Demon would only want to rest...

___________ooOoo___________
oo(O)oo
_______THANK YOU_______
_______O_______