Wow! It actually works!

Ok. I am actually using the Palm Handheld to enter the blog. An experiment, at best. I always maintained a journal before, but I am quite hesitant to post what can possibly be read by a lot of people.



Oh, well! The wonders of technology!

Well, this is a new "blog". I can only envision one use for this thing, that is to keep Christine updated with the stuff I am doing for the wedding. Good thing is, I can enter using our Palm device and merely sync.

A Sunny Morning (poem)

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This poem was written during the latter part of 1994, during one of the peaks of disillusionment and disappointment. The poem implies that around this period, I thought that the answer to my problems was to be loved. Very naive, of course.

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Amidst the chirping insects
I walked the sunny path
The wind above me whistled
Dropping leaves across the swath

The branches above waved at me
Happy, on that sunlit morn
Beneath the rustling canopy
A soul walked, sad and torn.

Inspite of the brightness of the sun
And the warmth it gave the earth
Inside my spirit, it was dark and cold.
I cursed the day of my birth.

Amidst the grass that rose from the earth
Amidst the birds that fly
Amidst a world of growing life
I prayed that I would die.

I tried to find some comfort
In the sound of the rustling leaves
I strained to hear the voice of God
Inside the whispering breeze.

Pain had suddenly siezed my heart
And my soliliquy is done
I cried. I died but still lived on
As someone unloved, and alone.

A Friend (poem)

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This is just one of my old poems from my old site. If the date says January 1 regardless of the year, it means I don't remember what month or date I wrote it, except that it was made in that year.

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A friend,
I am a friend,
I am always a friend,
I am always just a friend,
I am just a friend,
Just a friend,
A friend, . . .

. . . nothing more.

An Epitaph (poem)

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Another instance of a very early poem, circa 1991. It is biographical, and describes how I felt at that time in my life.

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Always wrong in their sight
By their standards never right
Never happy, always sad
By their measures, always bad
Always epitomizing anything rotten
Any good he does is forgotten
Something happens? He is responsible
For every fault, for every trouble
None of his achievements are remembered
Nor of the services he has rendered
The punishment he gets is very simple
He is shamed in front of people
Always seen, never heard
Often accused of being a nerd
Always treated a lazy bone
Always rejected for being alone
Never courageous, always shy
In front of girls, he feels he'll die
Searching for a worthy mate
Holding back until it's too late