Confidante Poems

O Lord! I have become weary of human assemblages!
When the heart is sad no pleasure in assemblages can be

I seek escape from tumult, my heart desires
The silence which speech may ardently love!
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Born in the garret, in the kitchen bred,
Promoted thence to deck her mistress' head;
Next for some gracious service unexpress'd,
And from its wages only to be guess'd­
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Lily! lady of the garden!
Let me press my lip to thine!
Love must tell its story, Lily!
Listen thou to mine.
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Round me now, beneath the weeping willow,
Night's refreshing breezes blow;
Anguish drove me from a sleepless pillow
Hours and hours ago.
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Will you be there when I'm down,
And catch me when I fall?
Will you hold me when I need
To feel the warmth of your touch?
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here
I've come
jobless stranger
as an alone wanderer
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He is always standing by me
When i am in trouble
Listens to the cry of my heart
A safe shelter, and like a medicine
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What a fire burns on, O confidante,
What a fire it is!
My eyes are filled with tears, O confidante
What a fire burns in my heart!
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Don't forbid confidante,
since I have welcomed him;
death I have surrendered to him
to take the pains of death.
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Pour your heart out to me
Don't keep it bottled up inside
'Twill fester and will poison you
Until a part of you has died.
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Day by day
Night by night
I find myself loving you more and more
Every song I sing,
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That gay one who is the abode of virtue
Incessantly murmurs thy name,
On hearing a word of thee
His limbs are pervaded by a thrill,
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My confidante
did not agree
on my heart
...

On the way back home, they think of them,
They buy something for their valentines,
A cup cake and a cute bucket of ice cream,
Their Valentine like these items the most,
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Ah lady! ah lady! hear a word,
At length having seen (him) I have come again;
Looking, looking, (my) pain increased,
Whatever was done profited not.
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A crazy woman
With no other work
Daily sitting in front
Of my assembled PC
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Singapore Gallery
where we stand taller
than the island republic
...

That morning cuppa,
wakes you uppa.
and helps u start the day,
to sip the brew and savour the aroma,
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White doves and stormy petrels
light upon the living room walls,
in robust compatibility,
teaching odd wedded rituals,
...

Winter has made its way
Through my hearth
There are glacial formations
Where once wheat of inseparable toil
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I never understood much that went before, could never sing hymns at the gate of youth with confidence nor carry myself through uncertain adolescence with conviction; I was always puzzled by geometry and the comatose of algebra drawing a sort of wonder only in the divine mystery of the solemn earth and the sound of ice cream vans down backstreets and the jazzy hum from playgrounds and swimming pools and the quiet cathedral peace of bluebell woods where curiosity blinked at every turn of the knotted path and ivy hung trunks stood defiant along the dipping brook with its mystery of where it had been and where it went - I never understood much about my coming of age where manhood was an advertising falsehood and adulthood was a wound of conformity with its dreaded spectre of responsibility; I always dreamt of someone nobler to be there when I awoke, a confidante to walk the timeless trails, a twinned mind to share the small miracles when light gets through the blinded eye - and then, how sweet, how sweet it was, you appeared from behind the curtain of fate, a gift from divine providence, an answer to a gambler's prayer, how sweet that miracle was, to find you amongst the chimneys and railings of the bleak landscape that went before, a steady hand against the wicked winds of chance, a fellow explorer, my blessed companion, precious as the boundless sky, you turned the heads of lambs as you passed by and the truth of you was the God in everything I adore.
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Tuesday morning, February 13, 2024, begun at 7: 18 a.m.; completed at 8: 29 a.m.

'Now, though, the meadow scene is the first thing that comes back to me. The smell of the grass … And yet, as clear as the scene may be, no one is in it. No one. Naoko is not there, and neither am I … Naoko, and the self I was then, and the world I had then: where could they have gone? … I can't even bring back her face—not straight away, at least. All I'm left holding is the background, pure scenery, with no people at the front.'
—Haruki Murakami, Norweigian Wood, Chapter 1
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My second mother, my sister-in-law,
A guiding light in my life, without a flaw,
With a heart full of love, and a soul that's pure,
She's always been there, of that I'm sure.
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You speak and I start listening with care;
Your speech brings to life the dead Corpses;
I'm trying not to think of gibberish things,
When listening to your speech;
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Isn't there bolo agility in thought and word, tell me
Is one safe under their ferd? tell me

I confided my confidante to recount my impasse to my beloved
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Psychological violation is what am going through right now,
Like Cambridge Analytica phishing for my innermost desires,
My open area character flaws are being used to alter my composure,
I trusted a quack therapist with all my personal information,
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57 years of a blissful life it has been
Fond memories galore
A myriad of experiences have gone by
Life has truly been beautiful!
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There is no language better than silence
Often seen people talking in silence in life

Every great invention is the product of silence
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we sleep as friends now
and you are in deep slumber
as i watch
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i get drunk sometimes
and it really makes me feel good
my head become as light as
a feather and my hands so free
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