Old Poems

Alright... the name of this blog does have Love in its tittle and I do find that there is a lack of it in the previous posts. So lets balance the hate a bit.

Basically those are two poems that I wrote to some girl a while back when things were not exactly going my way and I was feeling allot of mix emotions. I am not exactly the "poet type" but I though that I could transfer all that energy into something creative. (to make good art, you need good spirit)

I never really made those public since it was not of anyone's business but now that the actual person is leaving (without even saying good bye...) to somewhere where I am not... I feel that it would be a waste to not share this with you guys.

note: Both poems are heavily inspired from two french canadian songs about pretty much the same matter. I also have pretty close to sweet fuck all experience in writing poems.


This was written in the worst phase where I simply had no idea what was going on. She just basically stopped talking to me for like two weeks. It kinda feels weird when you've been talking everyday non stop for several months. I didn't really know how to aboard this so here's how it came out.

Ice poem A.K.A. Milou poem.
(those are code names but if you happen to know french, you might make the connexion)


I hate my phone.
Every time I look at it,
The message count makes me feel like this is it.
Like if you were truly gone.

My msn is the same.
I wait impatiently to see your name.
I wait impatiently for your message.
But the lack of network traffic puts me in rage.

Why aren't we talking anymore?
Could we have grown apart?
Why aren't we seeing each others anymore?
Maybe thats god's way of making art...

The past few days have felt like a torture.
I had the inability to make myself feel pure.
All this dilemma has driven me insane.
Is it really true that you don't feel the same?

What exactly has happened?
I'd just like to understand.
Was all this just a big pretend?
Or maybe just your way of making a stand...

How can you have gone from someone who wants to see me everyday,
To someone who doesn't care to be apart for 30 days.
Is it something I did?
Or is it something you did?

Some people say that no news is good news.
For some reason, I can't make myself agree.
The lack of information makes me feel empty.
My only solution is to fill myself with booze.

"J'y'ai jamais dit "je t'aime" tout court
J'ajoute toujours quequ'chose après
C'comme ça qu'on voit si on est en amour
"Je t'aime beaucoup" ça fait moins vrai"

Love... death... and the rest,
Are questions too big for me.
I hate this silence like the pest.
Why don't you just talk to me.


This next one was written several weeks later when I was feeling jealous and somehow ... actually... I do not know how to explain how I felt in proper english so I will just hand it to you.

Love (Hate?) Crumbs

Its been a while since we last made contact
But my heart doesn't feel right.
When my mind thinks that you're finally out of sight,
Something brings you back like a shot of smack.

Didn't we use to get along?
Maybe this is why I'm writing those pages.
So that even if I find this place where I belong,
Those memories can live through the ages

How did we get to this stage?
I guess we weren't on the same page.
Maybe next time will be better.
Lets just hope it has a different flavor.

I don't actually know what keeps me hanging...
Maybe it's just because I enjoy crying.
Those thoughts are stuck to my head like lice.
Its Einstein who said that "god didn't play dice".

You made me believe that its still possible to be happy.
Thats what we call hope.
Its always good when you're feeling weepy.
It definitely helps to cope.

Now I know that you weren't a simple crush...
But now its a bit too complicate.
Even if what we had wasn't much,
It is what kept me up so late.

There hasn't been a single day
where i haven't though of you.
Don't worry, its okay.
I'm still able to get through.

So I'm gonna shut my trap
and carry my road alone,
With my lil heart in my stomach
and your smile in my back pack
in this fucked up world where i've grown
where i might just have needed your "chown".



Obviously, both poems are littered with personal stuff that probably does not make sense to any of you but I am open to feedbacks/comments.

The Singapore Stalker

Alright this is a weird one...

It is about 1130 o'clock. I am "sms'ing" with my favorite real estate agent. My phone beeps with the default Samsung message ringtone. The number is unknown to my phone. +6581250014 (go ahead and spam him... I do not care). The text reads itself as such:

"hi"

A bit puzzled at who would do such a thing, I reply "erm hi... do I know you?". I mean think about it... who would send an SMS with just "Hi" for message. This is un-heard of. We are not instant messaging here. We are paying 25 cens to send a 256 bytes E-mail through a wireless phone network. Let's not fuck around... 

your bandwidth is not a toy come on... repeat after me

"your bandwidth is not a toy"

I put my phone in my pocket and go out for lunch. A bit later, I receive another message saying "See yr no at Toilet".
Oh dear...

I mean... we have all seen written on some dirty wall in some shitty bathroom a phone number written there in indelible ink with some dumb ass message next to it. What we do not all know is that... apparently... some people actually ring those numbers!


What kind of losers actually do this, I do not know but they must be very interesting "subjects". I mean logically... if someone writes "I suck cocks, call me at this number", it is most probably a simple ruse to annoy someone. If you wanna suck random stranger's cocks, there are places which specialize into that kind of stuff.

So anyway, the guy picked my interest so I reply "which ones?". I then get a message saying "Bedok". Alright, I do not really want the exact details. I do not care that much.

One hour later, I receive another text saying "I chi (chinese) guy". Alright...thats enough. I could tell him to meet me somewhere so that I can go, point him with my finger and then laugh (or simply not go...) but I have too much to do this week. So fuck it, I will just ignore the sms.

I then pursue my day as normal. I go visit the new place where I might move. On my way back in the train, I receive a phone call with "withheld" written. First of all... nobody usually ring my phone. They all know how much I hate talking in that thing. I answer and all I can hear is some breathing.'oh jesus fuckin chris' I think to myself and I hang up. (I was not going to start yelling insults in my phone right in the middle of Singapore MRT... I am not completely shameless). I then write a SMS that goes like this "look dude... FUCK OFF! dont ever ring this phone again"

It has been two hours now and still no news from my "stalker".

Anyway, that is my story for today (there is a bit more to talk about but I am tired). The point of this message is that even if I though that I have already seen/known/lived with the craziest people in the world... I am still gonna get surprised in the near future.