Seeking Intent

All that about whether or not to
About when, why and which step first
A film of dust, a veneer of doubt
On what is a mind already made up.

Trust and power, wisdom and wine,
Whispers, lies and tick-tock time
Go up in smoke and into the sky
When the image has faded, on come the lights.

Ask her why, if you foresee
An answer you might someday believe.
Sought intent so wrapped up in words
Tear through the layers and nothing's unearthed.

What do you need?

Need comes when you expect it least - when you aren't aware of what's missing, or whether something is missing at all. Need is your name - the one you don't use. Need walks out from the shades and stalks you silently.

Need is a ghost. Need was born when something died and left a vacuum. It befriends your shadows, and creeps into you through the sole of your feet. Need owns you before you know it exists.

Need is an animal. It doesn't talk to you. It is not a voice. Need will stare you in the face and pour itself into the depths of your being. And then it will bare its teeth. You can't kill need, you can only feed it. Need feeds on you.

Sometimes need will die. On its own. Reason, rationality, objectivity, perspective, balance, logic - nothing can explain it. You carry the burden of this question mark to every distraction you can find. Nothing will help, and nothing will prepare you for what comes next. For now you must meet the need for need.

that last effort

I'm usually not this bad at poetry. I feel I might have hit a personal low with this effort. But I'll let it slip into the blog because this blog isn't about quality of poetry - but rather about the Hong Kong experience. So if Hong Kong has turned my poetic expression sour, then that deserves to be mentioned. And the four lines of torture presented below should be treated as 'evidence' of my eroding poetic "talent", rather than any kind of personal exuberance.

Deceit

How she walks, and in her cold sway
How she holds the breath I dare not breathe
How simple the words, how late the smile
How true her game, how deep the deceit.