2: Soner

There is a man
He is my brother, my hoca, my love
He brought me to God
He opened up my eyes
He taught me to clear my mind, and clean my heart.

He told me stories
Reasons to live
Reasons to die
Reasons to share
Reasons to despair.

He showed me things
The obvious the hidden
The eyes of the soul
And the warmth of love.

His gifts
Of Knowledge
Of tests
Of acknowledgement
Of advices.

And so for knowing him
God loves me I know
For he is the greatest Gift I received
Although not to be kept
He is a gift to the Light
To a life worth living
This gift I shall treasure always
and remember well
For when I remember him, I remember Him too
And vice versa.

Soner

There is a man
He is my brother, my teacher, my love

There is a man
Hi name reflects his character
The last soldier of God.

There is a man
A man of his own heart
A mind of steel
A spirit like blazing fire
And a laugh so childish.

There is a man
The only man İ cant own
He is God's property
Another woman's property
But my heart he owns.

My dying wish.

Why do I still think and feel like this? One time I'm ok, the next day I would start to think again...

I want him to come and fetch his things. Then I want to reach out and hold his hand, like he held mine last two years. I can't move, I can barely breathe. I think the color on my face ran out. I duno why I didn't resist then. I want to do the same to him.

Then I want to touch his face, his eyes, his lips. I want to hold it for the last time because I know he will run away again.

Finally I want to kiss him, say goodbye. I want to tell him I love him, and that if given the chance, I'd do everything with him all over again. No, I would do everything better. I would try and try and never give up. I would never give up on him.

But I know, he will easily give up on me. He never explain things to me, always wanting me to be in his shoes. I never hate him, I never thought we fight. But he hated our arguments. When I thought it as a learning process, he thought our fights were destructive.

I want him to be here tonight because we can meet in the night when no one can see us clearly. I can kiss him and not make him worry. I can tell him I love him, and that I wish for us to try harder one day and really try one day. I know he will never want to see me again after that. But i think, thats ok. Because he needs to go away because I can't. I have to tell him I love him, and that I will always love him. And then I'll be happy and he will go away. Then, and only then, will I be able to let him go because he will make sure I will never get to see him again. Ever.

Empty

The previous poem was actually meant for a general statement about friendship, but as usual I got carried away so it became more specifically meant for a specific person. Whatever.

Anyway, that poem still does apply generally about friendship. About all my friends. Because they are the only ones that I know about. They come in different shapes and sizes. Mental states. Social and religious backgrounds and has many twisted and straight understandings.

But why do I miss them? How do you explain a lost you see everyday? Or should I say the other kind of lost. I feel lost as well you see. With them, any one of them at one time or with several of them altogether, its always a wonder. They are one person at one point and another at another. Sometimes, I miss them because they are not themselves you see? And another time I hate them, because they are themselves you see. But for most times when they are gone, away, not by my side, I miss them like a long lost sister. I fear of loosing them when I'm away far too long. And some I do, lose them I mean. But others, I gain stronger bonds with through the distance that we learn to appreciate. But I do love them all. Oh yes I do.

Then what's the matter? I keep asking myself over and over again. Some I lose because I stay away from them. Sometimes I couldn't understand them, and couldn't accept certain states of their being. For liquor or for drugs. For work or foreplay. Therefore, I stray. Stray so I could learn to understand and appreciate them as whoever they are. Or so I thought. Well, maybe in the end I am just hurt, all by myself, for the changes they have undergone without me. I fear I know them no more. And in the end we are just goodbye friends.

I miss them now, the lot of them. I have few friends because I trust all of them. I am very cautious that way. Sometimes I wish I'm not so I wouldn't be too lonely.

As to the person the poem is about, I wish I could see this person again and wish we were friends still. I hate losing peoples I trust, I feel a part of me being confusing, un-understanding, angry, lonely, sad and mainly regret. There are many many happy wishes I wish for this person, but I fear nothing like that is coming my way from this person. And I've discovered--Tonight--that everything I feel for this person fro time to time applies to all the friends I have always and almost never. Wish I understood all of you better, wish I could open up more without fear of losing myself in it. And perhaps I have, but am just afraid that if I go any further, I would drown and never surface as the person that I really am.

Maybe the person that I've lost are not my friends, but myself. And thats how I lose my friends.

I confuse myself.

I miss U

I dream about you
Often
Sometimes seldom

I dream about you
Day and Night
When I wake up
I wish I could go back to bed
So you could be back by my side

I dream about you
Sometimes in joy
Sometimes in pain
But mostly in suffering
Cause when I wake up
I know its all going to end

I dream about you
Sometimes when I'm awake too
Trying to remember last night, trying hard
But I can't

I dream about you
Sometimes based on memory
Sometimes based on experience
Sometimes based on wishes, hopes and prayers

I dream about you
Some about who you were
Sometimes about who you are
Sometimes about who you will be

I dream about you
But I don't understand why I do
You shouldn't be here

I dream about you
But do you dream about me?
I rather doubt it

Just because I'm annoyed...

What is your view on 'conforming'??

Does it mean that in order to be friends with a certain group, you have to have certain things, act certain ways, even dress certain brands/shops/trends?

Honestly, as much as I hate to admit and how I try to unadmit even--to be in denial, to not think that way, to think NOT--its sorta kinda, duh-yes-it-is actually true for most parts and most people. How difficult people make life is huh? Just becoz some think they're better/prettier/richer/more popular/clickier than others. Unfortunately, 'others' tend to follow suit, coping with such tags. How sad.


In actual fact, we don't need to conform. That's the use of having a Will. Free Will. People should accept and understand each other, just the way they are. No ONE or TWO or THREE needs to follow the ways of the group to be part of a group. Maybe, some will argue, that is what conformity, community, unitedness is all about. TO CONFORM to a common set of values. Believe me, I STUDIED this.


But you know, maybe conform shouldn't be the word. Try UNDERSTANDING. ACCEPTANCE OF DIVERSITY IN ITS OWN BEAUTY.


Conformity maybe just the source of the killings we have today. All this multiethnic/multireligion clashings. People don't understand each other, they say things about each other they don't even know about. Just because certain people don't do/act/think the way 'most' people do in certain places do. What do they do? KILL! KILL! KILL!


We see it at schools today, at college walkways, even in corporate environments. Groupies, Popular VS Geeks, Smarter/More handsome. More money than some stand out/are more successful than those who can't afford. Same thing! Haih...


Maybe all this is just coming from a sense of annoyance of how spoiled kids are nowadays, and these spoiled brats who have a sense of superiority over minorities/non-conforms think they can have everything their own way. They have nooo feeling of value on money whatsoever. Spending daddy's green, red, grenish blue papers like the time the spend with their groupies socializing. They trample over others including non-conform friends, family, even strangers. I feel bad, talking about them this way, because when I meet them, they are as friendly, sweet, confident and outgoing as you get. They kiss your cheeks at introduction, or shake your hands firmly to show they mean business.


Try observing every once in a while. They have a certain air about them, "SMUGNESS".
They do things with their friends and act like they're alright. With no shame, no remorse.



I love these people, just as much as I love the rest of the world in all its colorful happiness, changes, differences, pains, sufferings. I learn from them, tell myself and try too hard not to be like them.

But sometimes, just because I'm annoyed, I mentally strangle them, shake their eyeballs out, and scream in their face how they act like everything revolves around them. WORSHIP ME MY ASS!

The Bitch who Drove us Apart

There will be a poem based on this title. Until I feel more inspired, this will be all.