Pastime is an activity which you do during your spare time.

Tonight I shall share two of mine.

First, would be re-reading my old poems in Edenia, a blog shared with three friends of mine. But it’s in a coma now, unfortunately, because my prowess with words has died and shan’t be resurrected any time soon.

I stumbled across this:

~ She ~

Is the sugar in my brown tea
Is the photons in my diffracted spectrum
Is the pigments in my painting
Is the vibrations in my song
Is the airstream beneath my wings

SHE IS THE LOVE I COULD NEVER RETAIN IN MY SIEVE-LIKE ARMS.
Like water, she flows away.

No matter how hard I try to collect the remnants of my heart, I can never finish picking up the little pieces.

They crumble more and more as my clumsy fingers close upon them.

I try to glue my heart together, so that I can give it to her.
So that I can say, I give you my heart because it belongs to you, and truly mean it.

But still I’m here, on my knees, scrambling around for the missing shards as she waits on me. When I look up with hope, she stands there watching over me, with a smile on her lips, patiently enduring the wait.

But one day, when I look up, she was gone. I couldn’t see her anymore. Not that my tears helped my sight.

When all hope was lost, she returned. I was overjoyed.

Then she told me, my beloved, no need to pick up the pieces anymore. I know your heart belongs to me, and mine yours. That’s all we need to know.

I was devastated. Or was I?

Wah. I can’t believe I wrote this. I was trying to recall why I wrote that. After a minute or two, I remembered.

I sighed. Ah. A dull throbbing is still there in my heart. They say, time will heal. The pain went away alright. But scars don’t.

The second pastime I was going to talk about is blogging when I actually don’t have any spare time to enjoy this pastime. That’s an oxymoron by the way. Oh that’s the third.

So not two pastimes actually, lol. Because the way I mentioned about the second pastime was unexpected.

Sorry I’ll stop here.

~ Inside ~

What lies behind
That lovely pair of eyes,
That soft face,
That beautiful smile?

What thoughts run through
That wonderful mind,
That burgeoning intellect,
That superior wit?

What are you trying to tell me
When you smile and turn away,
When you lift an eyebrow,
When you rub that strand of hair between your fingers?

What emotions lie hidden?
Where do your feelings show?
Where is that bubbling laughter?
Or that despair so cold?

Tell me what lies behind that mask of yours
Behind that stoic facade
Riotous joy, or snowy indifference,
Or perhaps a spark of interest?

Why do you glance at me so?
Why that secret smile?
Why the hesitations, and the frowns?
Why that little sigh?

Let me into your world
And you’ll find yourself in mine.

***

The poem above was written by my friend Jia Wern; posted in Edenia.

For fans of mythology, I’m sure you’ve heard of Helen. The face that launched a thousand ships.

…

It’s funny how we’re kings of the worlds yet slaves of our own hearts.