Sunday, November 20, 2011

a poem from the lilttle novel i am currently working ("',)

The tiny sweet rain drops poured
And the world begun to wonder
Will her lonely heart be healed?
Or will it continue to wander?

She traveled on the land of snow
And breathe the winter air
When will her world be set aglow?
Where’s the key to end her despair?

Oh princess of the gloomy noon
Oh damsel of the ire
Where is your prince, will he come soon?
Will he come with a pyre?

The wind has come then goes and come
And yet no prince had come
Will she still hold to his falseness?
And be racked to love’s disease?

Who knows what does her heart desires
Or does her heart still live?
Albeit the fact that she never tires
Yet what steam rises on a heart ‘twas caved?

Thursday, November 10, 2011

My Precious Devine

How could I possibly let the minute pass by
Without making a candid smile
The music of your voice when calling my name
Is such a wondrous song to hear
It was so soft and soothing
It was so equisite in its manner
Oh treasured one,my euphonic partner
You are revered in your every way
Although they seemed oldish to others
But others' view points are worthless to me anyway
Nevertheless my precious devine
Eighty-ish' ways tend to gratify me
You pampered me with matchless glamour
That no one at all could do ever.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

The 26th of October

The sound of the day awakens me
with the notes of joy in the air
and the bright  sunlight unfolds the beauty
the stunning beauty of art I adore
His eyes reflects the leaping waters
His voice brings warm touch to my core
diffusing the frightening interaction of ribbons
currents of flaming reds and oranges
that hunt me in my dream last night
Everything seems to be alright
with a sight of him
with a knowledge of him next to me
channels calmness,overtakes darkness
Add caption
to the essence and eupnea of mine existence.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

THE BANQUET I


Second by second
Step by step
Heartbeat by heartbeat
I entered the door
And suddenly i was lost
In a world i haven't been before


Inch by inch
A smile from an unknown man
Turned into a warm smile
It welcomed me at the entrance
Of the Zetland Hall.


So unnbriddled were my feelings
And intensed was the turbulence
That set ablaze in my every nerves
Although it was three degrees that night.


I passed the table of ladies and gents
Drinking wines,laughing
Waiting for the others


I walked in silent feet
On the other side of the table


I never knew why my heart 
My stupid heart throbs odd that night
Making my feet froze in my shoes
Until I was invited to the light
And joined the ladies on the other table
The natural art of my essence flows normally
With every zip of white wine
Little by little i felt fine


Time creeps but even the word time itself,
I totally forgot 
As i indulged myself to the splendid,
gratifying conversations with Andrea
And with ever cordial and soft-spoken Julia
with a glass of wine...


And all my love burned
When in a glance I spotted him
Oh,but my all,the love of my life
Everything stopped except him smiling at me
And the rhapsodic song began to play


Introductions came but hey!
I forgot the names of some
After the roasting, melting hugs and kisses
From the love of my life


Hand in hand we entered the banquet hall
Oh! But heaven only knew the balls of  crystal bliss
Glistening at the tip of my brows.





THE BANQUET II


Inside the antediluvian dining hall
Six crystal chandeliers hanging atop
The well-decorated table
And the pearls at the end of mine,
My observant glistening eyes
Sparkles at my precious Angel
Holding my hand and squeezing it twice
A reassuring gesture of love
That truly liquefies my uneasiness.


Cordiality floats around the hall
And the stained glass windows
Reflects the smiles and complaisance
Of everyone on that clubby night


The soup...
The turkey...
The dessert...
The wine that were served to me...
Nothing could taste terrific like them
When Stewart is smiling at me,
Beside me,holding me...
His touch is such a constant trance
How welded is my equipoise
When love was this enchanting?


I am breathing significant breath
Painting substantial photographs
Of valued moments within heavenly moments
At the banquet
With gentlemen
With new-found friends
And with the love of my life.

The Banquet III

After the sweet farewells we left
the darling-filled banquet hall
my Sweetheart tenderly guides me
as we walk slowly out of the entrance door.

The spots of bliss have all but remained
and I can feel them glowing,
radiating withing my heart

then my love suddenly turn around
and give me a kiss
I suddenly felt my golden aura swirl
and cast myself something
endless,simple to nudge me
I am not the only one

turning the fairy-tale
into reality.

My sweetheart's sweet tongue
paint celestial portraits of me
like that of a charming poet
expressing sweet words to his reverie.

Every inch of my nerves sends
tides of beatitude that caved in
underneath my very core.

Midnight come to pass
On our way home
I melt on his arms
and I waken the wonderful memories of the banquet
in my mind
with eyes close
while listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

Saturday, October 1, 2011

Tales of a Man with two Pussies

I. The Night Before the Operation

The dark clouds playing on the horizon
covering and revealing the moon
but not all of it.
It is amazing how they move
forming broken circus and and limits.
And although it was a catchy scene,
it never exist to the eyes of John
nor he felt the magnetic trance
like those who witnessed a sigh of such.
Such is the feeling of disturbance
that drowns his every glands.
Perchance his love for Charles and Magellan
is much much beyond the Subterranean.
The night before the surgical procedure,
John sits with discomposure
by the candle whose light almost burnt out
and cans of Calsberg he couldn't live without,
He confess his fears while he gulp his beer
abreast the two cats sitting on their rears.

II.THE OPERATION

Sitting at his desk thoughts very far
Staring out the window with the frame ajar
the daylight offered him reasons to smile
in a coarse, barbaric debonair style
Like the man who asked for his helping hand
A man with a mustache and from Pakistan
He tried to listen as the man speaks
But his words appeared to him like dynamite sticks
So he packed up his bag and returned home
Found comfort for his tired self in the bedroom
as minutes went past he couldn't sleep
then his nervousness spurts that he couldn't keep
Quarter to twelve the bells tolled
His heart slowly broke and silently howled
He took Charlie first to put him in the cage
the pussy was excited at first then insanely raged
Next he picked up Magellan and put him inside
Like Charlie his anger plus confusion collides
Exactly twelve o'clock appeared the SPCA
with the concerned Ms. Yuen, the super cat lady
They took the two cats to the vet and so
for hours that John spent his nervousness grew
He saunters alone in a sad somber  road
towards Wo Che wet market to buy some food
Since the sun still up, He trailed his way back
to the Jockey Club and bet his streak luck
He sauntered  again in a sad thoroughfare
back to Seven Eleven to have few cans of beer
And dawdle his buns back to his dwelling
Then wait for his wife and the cats and perfect timing
to plow and to plant and to harvest his crops
not to mention his FV fuels need some top ups
He did all he can to amuse his weary mind
But his mind seemed temporarily became colorblind
So he stripped off the plastics and took some candles
placed them in the holders,then lit and settled down
There was nothing he could do but to worry and wait
until they came home at night when the clock strikes eight.





Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Heaven is Yours to Touch ( For Yvonne)

Before we stretch our minds
to the structure of the river
and the curves of the hill,
We follow the path of the light rays;
From the words of our parents,
The teachings of our aunt from the bible.

As little angels,we dream to fly
Where we can lay down in peace
and grow in joy and contentment.

Like a seed,you grow up to be a healthy flower,
Nourished with great love and care
Like a princess,you were never exposed to the hardships of life,
Shielded by the best we can offer you
You are like a sun in our family
Bursting your light to honour our parents and auntie.
I beg the stars to never let you
Even step on one of my foot prints
To never taste the banquet of my solitude
To never let you sink fatally lesser than the rest.
Ignite your mind sister and start to soar
Heaven is yours to touch now.

No doubt sweet bliss resides in me!
When I will witness that touching scene:
You,offering your diploma to our parents,
Something I failed to do.

Oh master of Thunder and Lightning,
will you get angry at me if i'll take over
and rolled the clouds in heaven
to proudly paint my Sister's name?

Friday, June 3, 2011

my midday meal reminder




Thirty past three,
tea time,

there were only number's and letters
reflected from my eyes
and suddenly
tons of tiredness slides down my eyebrows
until nothing I could see
but total darkness

I looked at the untouched mug of coffee
sitting on top of my table,
I was sure it was cold as ice...

My bones started to crackle
and my stomach begun to grumble,

I've missed lunch...

When I was about to take a step
and travel the ethereal splendor
of moments I've spent with my love,

the refined sound stopped my thoughts
from stringing our sugar-coated memories...

I heard his angelic voice
and my day turned to
honeyed bliss;
the reigning day of all my days,
like what he always did

So I took my keys,
got up and left.. 

my dearest husband, 
never failed to check 
if I had my lunch.


Thursday, May 19, 2011

A Story to Tell (for Stewart)


I tried to hide the pain
within me
at times He left me...


Twice...
Thrice...

Leaving sweet tender 
crystal clear tears
falling down my eyes

twice...
thrice...

I lived in dreams
had tried
and never stop hoping
that one day

He will smile at me
while I am saying to him...

"I am no longer chasing storms
but boundless reverence
because you are now with me"

In my dreams
I am the passionate writer
who struggles to bind words

and phrases of love
to lay him down...
down in such wonderment...

I became a tough wanderer
with poetry by my side...

I lived in our special place
a place without time and infinite space...
Only my love and his love exist...

Forgetting the pact I made with the world
I produced magic....

mixed ink and blood from my bruised heart,
I created art
only for him...

After many times
of counting the rainy nights

Finally...

The cute,little moonbeams
peeped through the window...

It was very quiet last night
except the sweet breath
that warmth my face...

He smiled
when I placed my lips next to his ears
and whispered...

"I am no longer chasing storms
but boundless reverence
for you are now with me
as my husband..."



he smiled and kissed me goodnight.

Friday, April 29, 2011

SEE POEM


WUNRN
 
Tragic Global Reality - Affects Girls & Women Worldwide
See 3 parts of this WUNRN release on Sale of Organs.
 
KIDNAPPING, ABDUCTING, MURDER OF CHILDREN
FOR SALE OF CHILDREN'S ORGANS - GIRLS
___________________________________________________________________
 
Direct Link to Report to the United Nations 2007 of Former UN Special Rapporteur on the Sale of Children, Child Prostitution and Child Pornography:
 
ABDUCTED & MISSING CHILDREN. SALE OF CHILDREN'S ORGANS
 
http://daccess-dds-ny.un.org/doc/UNDOC/GEN/G06/155/94/PDF/G0615594.pdf?OpenElement
 
Mandate of Current UN Special Rapporteur on Sale of Children +
____________________________________________________________________
 
UN.GIFT - Global Initiative to Fight Human Trafficking
 
TRAFFICKING FOR HUMAN BODY ORGANS - GIRLS & WOMEN
 
While it is commonly believed that trafficking only takes places for commercial sexual exploitation or for forced labour, trafficking in fact takes many forms such as trafficking for forced marriage and trafficking for organ trade among others. 

Trafficking in organs is a crime that occurs in three broad categories. Firstly, there are cases where traffickers force or deceive the victims into giving up an organ. Secondly, there are cases where victims formally or informally agree to sell an organ and are cheated because they are not paid for the organ or are paid less than the promised price. Thirdly, vulnerable persons are treated for an ailment, which may or may not exist and thereupon organs are removed without the victim's knowledge. The vulnerable categories of persons include migrants, especially migrant workers, homeless persons, illiterate persons, etc. It is known that trafficking for organ trade could occur with persons of any age. Organs which are commonly traded are kidneys, liver and the like; any organ which can be removed and used, could be the subject of such illegal trade.

Trafficking in organ trade is an organized crime, involving a host of offenders. The recruiter who identifies the vulnerable person, the transporter, the staff of the hospital/ clinic and other medical centres, the medical professionals, the middlemen and contractors, the buyers, the banks where organs are stored are all involved in the racket. It is a fact that the entire racket is rarely exposed and therefore, the dimensions are yet to be appropriately fathomed.
 

Several International standards are in place on trafficking for organ trade:
a. The UN Protocol to Prevent, Suppress and Punish Trafficking in Persons
includes "organ removal" and its subsequent sale as an end purpose of trafficking. Article 3 of the UN Trafficking Protocol that defines trafficking in persons, clearly includes trafficking for the purpose of removal of organs.

b. Optional Protocol on the sale of children, child prostitution and child pornography (2000) to the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child (1989) This protocol states that the sale of children for the purpose of transferring their organs for profit should be a criminal offence.
c. World Health Organization (WHO)
The Guiding Principles on Human Organ Transplantation (1991) of WHO state that the commercialization of human organs is 'a violation of human rights and human dignity'.

d. An Additional Protocol to the European Convention on Human Rights and Biomedicine Concerning Transplantation of Organs and Tissues of Human Origin (2002) prohibits organ and tissue trafficking, deriving a financial gain or comparative advantage from the human body and its parts and calls on States to provide appropriate sanctions for such trafficking.
The response to trafficking in organ trade has more or less been lacklusture. Considering the serious health implications and the severe human rights violations of the vulnerable victims, it is essential that this issue gets the desired attention. This requires several steps including the following:
  • Appropriate laws in sync with the UN Protocols and principles.
  • Stringent law enforcement against all those involved.
  • Training and orientation of the law enforcement agencies as well as the medical staff who are likely to be drawn into the commission of the offence, especially for want of the dimensions of the crime.
  • Awareness generation of the vulnerable sections.
  • Public awareness posters and display boards, etc. to be made mandatory at the health centres, where health care is ordinarily provided.
______________________________________________________________
 
THEY STOLE MY LITTLE GIRL ORGANS 
By Airyn Lentija Sloan

She approached me with a smile
And I, the daughter of poverty
Smiled in response to quiet
The tremble I felt inside.

Slowly I was carried away
By the Woman and Man 
From the dusty road
Where I and my sisters loved to play.

They took advantage
of my youth and innocence,
My vulnerability.

They brought me to the city
I saw the glittering lights
The buildings that give promises
That do not last

After two or three nights
They stole took my EYES,
My sight, my windows to the world. 

I cry, not just from the pain
But also because I am lost in darkness,
The blank path to find my way home
To hug my mommy.

I scream at the pain that slowly
Kills the little strength remaining in me.
When I woke up,
I thought I was in hell.

There is a scar I can feel.
Yes, I can feel it -- The hollow within me.

They left the scar on my tummy
It bleeds.....
They took my eyes AND my kidney !

They Stole My Organs © Airyn Lentija Sloan 2011

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Her Street Identity


Oftentimes you will see her
humming her emptiness
to the death freezing hands of mortality,
shouting her pleas
(which often go unheard)
to the wild blue yonder...

and down,
under
rests the doom;
the home of the wretched.

On the harsh, hot street
she wanders 12-16 hours a day
while some of us neglect and shudder...
burn the bitter truth
through the idleness with mad remarks...

Some of us just walk through parks
caring less of the images in our eyes
having deaf ears for the innocence...

by her,     little babies cry,
with her,   little young ones sigh...
searching for their fate on the street
scavenging through trash
for something to eat.

Hell is real to a youth of no voice...
watching cars, selling flowers in the morn,
begging for food at noon
and when night time comes...

She find strength from inhalants;
Glue, Rugby and drugs became her Gods...
her tickets
to momentarily empower
her fantasies;
where she pretends to fly away
and yet only in her memory.

Such a frightful picture it is
for a potential girl to grow up in,
accepting the cold nights of reality...

Her dreams never come...
She screams but is never heard...
She hides...

She hides her fears of the dangers;
sickness after years of breathing exhaust fumes
harassment from extortionists,
often policemen and peers.

And in the heart of the innocent
where joy is less and pain hides pain,
she joined a group, The Gang,
a choice to a path towards darkness
where the devil stones cuts the flesh of the soul;
yet it never bleeds.

A life in a cage where endless woes are introduced
The battle of life and death
In the Street's activities

PICKPOCKETING is a little bit thrilling
in PROSTITUTION, agony is a true hope
DRUG ABUSE is tempting...

death
is coming
to her...

In her dark devastating demise
where her home has never been a paradise
subtle tremor ripping at her core...
She looks at us
but some of us don't see her...

and there she cries
with the street children...

SHE
is one
amongst
the valuable lives
T R A G I C A L L Y
spent.


Friday, March 18, 2011

I Came too Close in Saying Goodbye

I can't say goodbye to you
No matter how I tried
You're such a part of me
Without you,I would die
Deep in the heart of me
I know that You and I
Were meant to be together
I can't tell you goodbye
-Helen Reddy-

It's funny how sudden
Love turned to Hate
Cursing was my last option
but then,a tiny little voice inside me
said,Wait!
Isn't this man taught you how to be strong?

I can't believe what I could give
Courage rises from the ashes of outrage
I sink a little,hurt a lot,but I live
for You;my Avatar of Strength
Existence is one spicy crippled twists
Said some of my gray-haired buddies

No matter how I tried
to make a step and give up
I can't

I simply can't Dad
How can I give up a part of me?
How can I give up a wanderer
meant to conquer my dreams...
a star conceived to dominate my quintessence?

In your eyes rests the basis of my existence
In your smile I acquired strength
to love you more

So how can I say goodbye to the sun of my universe?

I won't...I can't

I love my Husband.

In Cimmirian Winds


The frozen stream of my realm 
took a deep breath 
and chants welcome the morn with calm 
peace soothed the core 
of my feed up soul 

The casting of light beams 
took over the darkish dim 
A dramatic scene sparkling... 

at the edge of my wearing lashes 
phoenixes soar,flaming 
Ever daring 
So many of them 
danced with the doves... 

exquisite movements 
stained by the strain of my silence 

In a kick of the tide, 
reality bites! 

I sit my concealing heart 
so intensely wounded 
that I.... 

I wept. 

I dreamt within my solitary dream 
hoping my amber eyes 
found solace with a springtime's grace 
But,sadly,the very core of my sighs 
shouted it was all a murky guise... 

Hands closed tightly and fractured, 
fighting against simple desires... 
that can't be mine. 

How long still I would wait, 
immersed here in Cimmerian winds, 
challenging the violent windstorm 
for a little smile beyond the norm?

Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Raped and Murdered Under the Moon


Raped and Murdered Under the Moon
(Inspired by WUNRN's INDIA:RAPE IS FASTEST GROWING CRIME)


 Sun beams glided through my window pane
A reminder that it was morning and again
I had to get up and do the same
Work, a little argument here
and a little bit of laughter there
That was my life...

Until
I felt
the droplets of rain
hitting my skin
And I found myself
on the cliff of my course,
looking below.

The river of sorrow
was inviting me
perhaps...

was it death I saw?

That night
F E A R
coated my every nerve...
The perves,
they were coming towards me.

Hunger for meat
reflected on every tooth revealed
by their tightest devilish grins

They started to hold me
tease me, played with me
I wanted to shout my torment
with each baleful beat of my beyond-mending heart

But they smacked the stone on my head
The next thing I saw

I and my nakedness...
I, the destroyed mirror...
I bleed...
I was lying half dead.

The gang had succeeded 
The devils had raped me.

All my hopefulness morphed to pain
The air I breathe was hurting,
always rewinding 
of the throes that endured inside my heart.

I became 
a blank canvass
a silhouette in the darkness...

and after five days
My Constellation 

Fell...

Death consumed my all.