Transportation, Establishmentation of the Glorious Mother Nation

October 21, 2010 at 10:03 pm | Posted in poem | Leave a comment

Transportation (or something, I’ll think of a better name later)

Buses and minibuses make me sleep,
their rumbling regular and soothingly deep,
moving periodically along the hilly streets,
they lull me into counting sheep.

Trains on the other hand are brightly lit beasts,
with too many passengers and not enough seats,
when the doors close they make piercing beeps,
keeping me alert and on my feet.
Given a choice I would certainly say,
to take the buses over trains every day,
and if everyone goes and does it that way,
I can get seats and peace on the train.

-Leo, 2pm, on bus waddling around the western part of HK island, Caine road.


Establishmentation of the Glorious Mother Nation

On this day of celebration,
we watch fireworks in commemoration,
of the establishmententation,
of our glorious mother nation,

On this day of decided rest,
we go out of our way to try our best,
to use our time effectively,
game until our eyes will bleed,

The fireworks, we don’t give a damn,
we just want to play streetfighter, man,
and spelunk in spelunky, spelunk, spelunk,
and try again to get Dennis drunk.

-Leo, 8.05 am, just finished eating cup noodles for breakfast, 20101001

Lecturephonic, Hoardelirious

October 12, 2010 at 10:24 pm | Posted in poem | Leave a comment


Velcro rips,
page flips,
plastic bag crackling,
pen on table tapping,
opening door creaks,
and on closing, squeaks,
chairs rubbing on cloth,
forced muffled cough,
biting and munching,
hard candy crunching,
more page flipping,
plastic still crinkling,
each sound is so captivating,,
I really should start concentrating,
on what the teacher is actually saying.

note: Written, rather appropriately, at the start of class.


I’m not a computer geek,
but I’m a hoarding freak,
I keep everything I download,
and I never ever delete.

Here’s my bag of thumb sticks,
each one is unique,
it takes hours to find what I want,
but at least my mind feels complete.

Open up my cupboard,
hard drives stacked high,
they’re all full of backups,
that I make every night.

Look at the older machines,
they’re for stuff before CDs,
zip drives, jazz drives, floppies,
I’ve got old documents stored on these,

Every file is kept for eternity,
every program is useful, potentially,
you all can laugh, but deep inside,
there’s just some things that you have to keep.

Composed uhh, 3:30pm on MTR to Central, and 9pm on minibus from Whampoa to Kowloon Tong.  I really don’t know why I keep these notes.


And yes, all you lot are getting for the next few weeks will be poems.  Heaps of them.  Until November.  November is National Novel Writing Month.


Lamentations of a Shoe-addict, Photoshop and Autotune

October 11, 2010 at 10:56 pm | Posted in poem | Leave a comment

Having obtained copies of… “A Light in the Attic”, “Where the Sidewalk Ends” and “Falling Up”, all written by Shel Silverstein recently, I have become inspired to write poems of my own.  I have 12 or so in my buffer, so I’ll leak them out first, in no particular order, possibly slightly organised.   Okay, they might actually be slightly chronologically organised.   And before you say it, yes they mostly suck.  These are my first explorations.  Maybe if I have enough, I can publish them.

Lamentations of a Shoe-addict

They call to me, the pretty shoes,
but they’re not in my size,
it makes me blue,
oh why do they look so good.

My heart, it’s torn,
I feel its call,
of this opportunity,
to buy them alllll

I already have a lot of heels,
a lot of pumps, all good deals,
but surely one more pair,
would be good to wear?

Photoshop and Autotune.

Photoshop and autotune,
makes your skin smooth,
eradicates flabbiness,
Ons your off-pitch,
converts shrieks into croons.

Autotune and photoshop,
Homogenizes vocal texture,
makes your song sound like a powerpoint lecture,
no more blemishes or spots,
turns utter ugliness into hot,
when will this parasite of creativity,
die in a pool of autoshopped phototunes and stop?

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