Today is poetry day! Haha. Nah. I got really bored during my madrasah class, I started writing poems - 4 in all! I wrote one while trying to menghafal Yassin, another during Arab class, another during solat time since I couldn't pray, and another one while eating. So much inspiration. And I just realized that even though I've had Arab lessons since seven, I still can't even form a decent sentence. Yet I still remember my French including the all the conjugations despite only taking it for a miserable one year. Shows how effective the ustazahs are. Haha.
The first poem I wrote today is a Haiku:
A great idea
Drops from the Heavens above
Like a coconut.
---Comment: I found this hilarious. Don't ask me.
The second one is entitled Just Poetry:
A smile that
falls upon a memory
Is like sunlight
upon a sandy beach.
A laughter that
begins in a frown
Is like snowflakes
melting into butterflies.
A tear that
drops from a Mother's eyes
Is like Heaven
wringing itself dry.
A sigh from
a lover's lips
Is like music
to the ears of Cupid.
---
The third one is also a Haiku:
A throbbing headache
Feels like iron-hot charcoal
Pressed against my head.
---I wrote this while dizzy. Explains the poem.
The last one is lengthy. I call it 'A devil's cry':
Somewhere in the distance
A foghorn blows,
And then the shattering
sound of bombs.
While in the quiet of a
hospital room,
A cherubic little angel cries.
Hatred! Hatred!
Cries the devil
Blow this evil
into this baby's heart
Let him know of no love,
of no peace, of no quiet
Let him speak only the language of war,
Let him hear only the noise of bombs and bullets!
Hatred! Hatred!
Cries the devil.
But then the mother enters
She sings to her angel a lullaby
A lullaby raked from deep within her memories -
Memories that speak of love -
Love that preaches aginst hate.
And the baby gurgled in delight.
And somewhere in the distance,
the devil cries.
---This is about the fight between good and evil, supposedly lah.
Oh and then THIS was interesting. I went home with Zainol Ariffin. Relax guys, don't get jealous. He's still in Sec 4 and in Raffles, waiting for Prelims results. So anyway, he's planning to get into AJC, cos he doesn't want RJ. *shrugs* Don't ask me. Then the conversation turned to Cikgu Saripah, who's now teaching in RI. I told him Cikgu Saripah has never taught me before. He said he knows. I asked, how?
He said something like this:
"Oh the other time during the Bahas [I took part in Debates in sec 4] and your face appeared in the papers, the guys brought the papers to school cos they thought you were cute. Then Cikgu said she's never taught any of you before. And I was the only one who could say I knew you cos you were in my madrasah class." Konon-konon he felt privileged lah.
Wow. The RI guys actually thought I was cute. Cute!! Read that? Man, too bad they're my juniors. And then this ah beng suddenly walked past the bus stop and stared at Zainol very hard. So I laughed and told him that the ah beng looked at him funny. And he went:
"Yeah, cos he's jealous of me and wants to sit beside you".
Such flattery.
The first poem I wrote today is a Haiku:
A great idea
Drops from the Heavens above
Like a coconut.
---Comment: I found this hilarious. Don't ask me.
The second one is entitled Just Poetry:
A smile that
falls upon a memory
Is like sunlight
upon a sandy beach.
A laughter that
begins in a frown
Is like snowflakes
melting into butterflies.
A tear that
drops from a Mother's eyes
Is like Heaven
wringing itself dry.
A sigh from
a lover's lips
Is like music
to the ears of Cupid.
---
The third one is also a Haiku:
A throbbing headache
Feels like iron-hot charcoal
Pressed against my head.
---I wrote this while dizzy. Explains the poem.
The last one is lengthy. I call it 'A devil's cry':
Somewhere in the distance
A foghorn blows,
And then the shattering
sound of bombs.
While in the quiet of a
hospital room,
A cherubic little angel cries.
Hatred! Hatred!
Cries the devil
Blow this evil
into this baby's heart
Let him know of no love,
of no peace, of no quiet
Let him speak only the language of war,
Let him hear only the noise of bombs and bullets!
Hatred! Hatred!
Cries the devil.
But then the mother enters
She sings to her angel a lullaby
A lullaby raked from deep within her memories -
Memories that speak of love -
Love that preaches aginst hate.
And the baby gurgled in delight.
And somewhere in the distance,
the devil cries.
---This is about the fight between good and evil, supposedly lah.
Oh and then THIS was interesting. I went home with Zainol Ariffin. Relax guys, don't get jealous. He's still in Sec 4 and in Raffles, waiting for Prelims results. So anyway, he's planning to get into AJC, cos he doesn't want RJ. *shrugs* Don't ask me. Then the conversation turned to Cikgu Saripah, who's now teaching in RI. I told him Cikgu Saripah has never taught me before. He said he knows. I asked, how?
He said something like this:
"Oh the other time during the Bahas [I took part in Debates in sec 4] and your face appeared in the papers, the guys brought the papers to school cos they thought you were cute. Then Cikgu said she's never taught any of you before. And I was the only one who could say I knew you cos you were in my madrasah class." Konon-konon he felt privileged lah.
Wow. The RI guys actually thought I was cute. Cute!! Read that? Man, too bad they're my juniors. And then this ah beng suddenly walked past the bus stop and stared at Zainol very hard. So I laughed and told him that the ah beng looked at him funny. And he went:
"Yeah, cos he's jealous of me and wants to sit beside you".
Such flattery.
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