Tuesday 2 June 2015

english project


For the English project, we were told to go out and share our poems with the public.  I went out with some friends to publish some poems that I'd written. It was quite an enjoyable experience although at first I had a bit of trouble of thinking about various ways to publish my poem, and I enjoyed the compliments that I received. On the first day I went out I realized that my phone died down and was unable to take photos of the places I went.

To start of, I decided to post poems on my blog and on other websites


Then I wrote another poem and posted them everywhere else so people to read. I posted them in old barn   and on light posts near my home. I also posted them on the bulletin near the mail box near my house.
I also gave out cupcakes to people as a reward for taking their time to listen to my poem
All in all, I greatly enjoyed publishing my poems and going out of my comfort zone and out into the world. All the compliments that I'd received boosted up my confidence not just in poetry writing, but in communicating with the public as well.



Sunday 31 May 2015

Out of the Blue

On an ordinary summer’s day,
an extremely unusual event occurred;
my hat literally developed legs and ran astray
fleeing from me so fast it blurred,
and to this day I still could not
figure out what had cause the hat
to fly away on with its newly developed legs and hide under my cot.

Tuesday 12 May 2015

A Voice that I Heard

Your voice is as soft as the mewing of a cat
and can yet be as loud as the boom of the drums,
like the clip-clop of a horse's hooves,
a tempestuous wind destroying properties
Like the squeaking sound of a rocking chair 
like the soft gurgling sound coming from the streams 
and the harmonious melody wafting through the air.
Like a furious mob of people howling at each other
Like the music of wind chimes clashing,
waves crashing against the shore
the cry of a new-born baby
the screeching of flying seagulls
like a dowdy worker shouting through the crowd,
the scratching sound of a pencil upon paper
like a terrified scream cutting through the air
and the repulsive smell of garbage being thrown into a dump
as silent as the dreary gloom which settles at night
as soft as the pillows luring its owner back to sleep
like a clock ticking the silent night away
the humming of a jovial worker announcing dawn
the leaves whispering its mysterious messages in the breeze
and thunder booming in the distance
like the rattling of a disruptive earthquake
the hissing of snakes
a mother scolding a disobedient offspring
and the distraught sobbing of the miserable child
like flames roaring to life
like a black hole hungrily devouring everything within its reach
like the dog whimpering because of a furious scene
like a voice that i hear every night, singing soft, sweet lullabies
which are fading into the background as I succumb to sleep.

Wednesday 19 November 2014

The metaphor

My mother

My mother is like a flawless building, standing straight and tall. Never does it waver even when the earthquakes strikes. It is made from strong concrete that seems to stand forever. Its windows sparkles brightly in the bright rays of sunshine, and even the building itself seems to hold an air of determination and success with all the people buzzing about inside. Raised voices are never heard inside the building because everyone would always be calm and serene. The walls inside the building are pure white; no hint of dirt could ever be detected. Even the air inside is ever-so clean and pure without any air pollution. All the equipments  are flawlessly clean. The building buzzes with success all the time. 

Thursday 30 October 2014

The Day I Started Hearing the Hollyhocks
Poem response to "The Sound of the Hollyhocks"

Black, the colour my world, after my wife left me and died. 
My insides, had burned with fire
at my mom I never did admire,
and  I curled up on bed and cried.

Then one day a miraculous thing had happened: 
a mysterious voice had spoken and chilled me to the bone.
"Who are you?" I said in an undertone.
That mysterious voice really had me stunned.

"Who on earth are you talking to?"  my mother said.
And as realization dawned on her, her face grew scared
Her face and nostrils became flared.
"You're hearing voices which only speak to you," she said.

After that she rushed me to the hospital and I was left there all alone.
Hearing the voice again I then looked out the window,
That's when I noticed several Hollyhocks standing out in the meadow,
and that made me groan.

I then knew where the mysterious voice had come from
and that they would speak only to me.
Three weeks had passed and I began to see
the wonderful affects of life without my mom.