Due to personal reasons, new poetry will not be posted until further notice.
Jul
15
Fallen Wide
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2009
The lonely path; wretched and barren.
Untouched for eternity, how bleak.
Hope was forlorn, it never came
bearing fruit in this endless void
of an existence, so lifeless.
A world of light devoid.
Stemming from hate, our lives
are rigged by this great debate.
Rank with death; rivers sanguine.
An era of rage, a flurry of time.
Eons pass. We look up:
Are we even worth a dime?
A realm insignificant.
Jul
15
Beyond: find yourself amidst your own darkness
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2009
Faraway in the distance, I see
a shimmering, crystal sea.
I look into it, trying to find
any image, any reflection of me.
But I am disappointed, torn,
broken, crushed. I sip my tea.
while sitting under that tree.
We make our own pains, to deliver us
from this forsaken, unbearable plane.
Trying to never look back, tears drop.
Soon a river. Something we cannot mop.
Where is the Guide, the light?
The one which will grant us sight.
Steal us away from the blight
that encompasses all of night.
Jul
02
Q-Store Boredom
By Jonathan Chan
Copyright 2009
Down in the depths of Q-Store, CUO Chan reigns
with his iron fist, his iron lozenge. His word is law.
Whether it’s sweeping the field store, or folding clothes,
We always have something to do.
Jul
02
A Wordy Joust: an amalgamation of mini-poems collected from multiple status comment posts on Facebook.
By Benjamin Le, Sherwood Du, Obie Chan, Samantha Litt, E.Y. Harburg
Stanza Accreditations
Ben – 3, 5, 6, 8, 9, 12, 14
Sherwood – 2, 7, 10, 11,
Obie – 1
Samantha – 4
Edgar – 13 (Referenced by Sherwood)
Copyright 2009
I was on a dock
by the sea
and saw a rock
which had a key.
Driving a train
I drank three Ts
And saw a man
God help him.
On the little rock
There was a golden key
It didn’t fit any lock
Except lil’ Obie’s.
Behind this door
Helds loads of treasure
For within it bore
A greedy man’s pleasure
The pleasures of man
Will never be seen
Less it be a can
Of brown rotten beans.
To live in a world of hate
Is to fight an impossible debate.
To die in a world of love
Is to transcend the skies above.
To be awake at an hour this late,
Is to ask for rough medicine at this rate,
To be your accomplice in cyberspace
Is much better than being on MySpace.
Would I be quite irate
If I did stay up this late?
Forceful as it may be,
I am not here to mate.
But to cross the divide in me.
This cursed breath may be the last
Of good times long gone past.
Weep for the age of humanity
As it indulges in profanity.
If we were here to mate
Our instituional stereotype would be irate,
Sudden and forceful the truth may be,
I am bent down on my knee,
Accept the remedy of your fogotten key.
This blatant blabber may bubble on
Through the seas we unison in song.
Dwell not on the dry past.
Scope towards the last.
There is no future.
There is no past.
There will never be the last.
It doesn’t matter where we’re cast.
We’ll hold firmly onto the mast.
Someday I’ll wish upon a star and wake up where clouds are far -
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That’s where you’ll find me.
But all good things must come to an end.
As this status comment post goes around the bend.
Worn out because of the energy I lack
Despite not studying for any SACs.
The android must go to sleep
So he may dream of electric sheep.
Jul
02
The Apex Of Our Time
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2009
As man reaches the pinnacle of its age
He begins to wonder what was the wage
For being an existential sage
Forever trapped inside a living cage
Always dreaming of becoming a mage
One who could soar above all the rage
Contributing to a plane of carnage.
Bite into my site.
As if you love flying your little kite.
But I think I just might -
Take a short little flight
Right through the night
Jun
11
Please Don’t Cry: how can one not in the wake of such hopelessness?
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2009
I sit here and stare at that bright screen,
I dream of a time where my consciousness was green.
A time where I knew what anything would mean.
But now; as angst grips my resolve,
I turn to the endless continuum of my condition
And weep for the coming of the bliss.
Perhaps that will be the thing that solves
My repressed desire to take that forbidden kiss.
Futile in pursuit, fruitless in reception
Many ask why I do try – veiled in this
Giant web of masked deception.
Probably there is someone out there I miss.
Keyboard. Mouse. Memory. Being.
A bridge for two worlds – strengthened by love.
Love that seems to soar above – above
The desolation of a charred, barren heart.
May
09
Fires of Futility: the beginning of the end approaches…
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2009
The woes of denied love burn
Like the feeling of immolated flesh
Against crooked, charred stakes.
The anguish experienced from the words
Uttered by a denizen of mankind
Can crush even the strongest of minds.
Such is the futility perpetuated by those
Who sit in their houses and write prose
Concerning how their nose
Can get them into so much pain
But not enough gain…
Feb
10
A Shakespearean Day: a short little work for someone…
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2009
Should I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Your hair shines like the sun in May
You make me feel so gay
I don’t really know what to say
‘Cept for “keep getting in my way”
So we can both say “YAY”
While we eat cakes of whey
On yellow stacks of hay
On a sunny day in May.
Nov
24
Masculinity: a short little work
By Benjamin Le
Copyright 2008
Such are the words of man
To utter the row will get you a ban
Are you really a man?
As I saw you having a tan
On the sand
With a band
Of idiots using contraband
And eating lots of flan.
