Rules In Time (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!

Time comes and goes,
like waves in the open sea,
rigidity it seems to lack,
yet dare you to face it alone,
its will bends and shapes willingly,
thus it comes and goes easily.

Something sets in stones,
it’s to be outdated,
it’s to be obliterated by time,
thus rules matter less,
when things stretch overtime,
rules are meant to be bent by time.

History matters a lot,
not for its rich stories,
though it could be a great teacher,
a greater essence is what it got,
to prove that time matters more,
thus rules on stones are meant to be eroded.

Only when survival instincts kick in,
time would freeze in the moment,
allowing unbendable common sense,
to reign for the moment in time,
after the storm had settled,
time would move on in its own merry way.

To be like time is to be renewed again,
sometimes by force without knowing why,
sometimes by will by the wiser guys,
thus time should be realistic,
bringing changes after a storm,
to fight against time with stones would be futile.

Slavery (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Slavery, comes and goes,
common sense or no,
slavery comes and goes.

When slavery was around,
suffering was guaranteed,
a relief as it went away.

Thus men declared we’re freed,
from a slavery of men,
celebrating a newfound freedom.

No longer in chains,
yet men somehow felt being bound,
by invisible chains of everyday.

Men are freed,
yet men are not freed,
from invisible forms of slavery.

If not financially chained to serve,
it must be old age which whips weeped men,
into slavery men shall forever be bounded.

Can men ever be freed?
Arrogantly, men declared freedom,
without seeing the invisible chains.

From birth men were being chained,
to serve the invisible masters,
and men shall serve till death comes.

How ironic it is,
as men try to stay free,
but men are free only in death.

How ironic it is,
as men declare freedom,
men serve masters till death comes.

Amnesia (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

From the inception we forgot who we were,
thus we reinvented who we were over and over again,
we’d written fiction to be in place of history,
so we could at least believe we once got a root,
we’d written of the Great Flood that drowned our past,
perhaps, we had created such fiction over and over again,
just so we could at least feel a past,
without a past it’s hard for us to imagine a future,
because our identity is very much rooted in our imagination,
and so we could care less about the Great Flood,
which was mythically created by the mystics,
to pull us out of the greatest, deepest, amnesia,
and into a glorious present in which we could look back,
and say that we had once lived gloriously,
but the glory will continue on,
into the future we are heading for such a glory,
even if the future will be of another Great Flood,
perhaps, even then we might still be able to reinvent,
a past of now in which it does not matter if it’s true,
because this amnesia had got nothing on us,
for us, we are colorful,
for us, we are bold,
for us, we are innovative,
for us, we are imaginative,
for us, we breathe in amnesia as air,
and keep on moving forward,
into the unknown future that we are now already imagining of,
a glorious one indeed!

Freak of Nature (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

Shunned by the mass,
an ugly duck quacked,
a freak of nature at that,
incomprehensibly quacked.

Quack, quack, quack!

The mother duck would quack,
encouraging the other ducks en masse,
to scold the ugly duck, quack, quack,
how useless the ugly duck at that.

Quack, quack, quack!

Poor ugly duck quacked in silent,
hoping the other quacks would die down,
unabated quacks would siren,
scolding the ugly duck as a clown.

Quack, quack, quack!

Came an old man Darwin,
taking a pity on the ugly duck,
using his Darwinism for the win,
confessing that he is in luck.

Quack, quack, quack!

The mother duck would quack,
Darwin would adore the ugly duck,
the other youngins would quack,
Darwin professed the freak is his luck.

Quack, quack, quack!

Angrily, other ducks got rowdy,
the mother duck demanded an explanation,
Darwin professed he is lucky,
to see a freak of nature in action.

Quack, quack, quack!

The mother duck would agree,
agreeing that the ugly duck is a freak,
Darwin would disagree,
saying that a freak isn’t so a freak.

Quack, quack, quack!

Other ducks would quack,
old man, you are so crazy,
freak is a freak, quack, quack,
otherwise this doesn’t explain nicely.

Quack, quack, quack!

Darwin laughed and replied,
it’s beautiful to see nature in action,
creating something different once in a while,
freak of nature is an evolution.

Quack, quack, quack!

Yes, it’s also a revolution,
rebelling the old, boring, outdated nature,
nature often starts a new experimentation,
potentially, creating a freak for a new measure.

Quack, quack, quack!

So quack away while you can still quack,
as the freak hasn’t yet realized he’s beautiful,
once he does you would fear his quack,
for his quack will be most wonderful.

Quack, quack, quack!

In their boring ways the ducks went on quacking,
believing the old man is a freak of nature,
thus they would go on quacking,
how the ugly duck is a freak of nature.

Quack, quack, quack!

Darwin failed to enlighten the lame ducks,
in sadness he humbled away,
years later, disease killed many lame ducks,
while the ugly duck flourished away.

Quack, quack, quack!

Ugly duck with wife seeded newborn freaks,
proving Darwin is right, they went on thriving,
ugly freaks became the new measuring stick,
long gone the lame ducks once were quacking.

Fever Of Unholiness (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

So clear you can see through,
to the bottom of the freshest lake,
so pure the fish haven’t had a clue,
near boiling temperature boils the lake.

How pure should a virgin be,
so to not hurt a virginity pride?
There she goes clueless as she be,
heart beats till temperature rises too high.

Steadily, she calms herself,
swearing not to swear under her breath,
oh, holy, please do not let me be someone else,
please purify me with your holy breath.

Too pure to even notice,
her world is being shaken to the core,
a shaken soul possesses by a fever of unholiness,
frustrating much as she can’t take it anymore.

Is it sane for one to be so pure?
A virgin’s fire would not yield to the wind,
as if the wind is a disease and never a cure,
thus a virgin begs her holiness to banish the wind.

Without the wind her world is empty,
her seeds are withering away in a silly stillness,
austere and ugly world she creates for her virginity,
yet she struggles to truly erase her fever of unholiness.

In God’s Image (Poem by Vinh Nguyen)

Just another poem I’d written thus far.  Enjoy!!!

Hundreds of billions of stars twinkle in the sky,
dotting the sky with light where darkness reigns,
ironically, blinding bright as the sun in the sky,
stars are shrouded by mysteries where darkness reigns.

Astronomers ponder upon the stars for universal mysteries,
just so the mysteries of the stars would reveal the sea,
the sea of the stars where the universe is full of history,
a history which has been shrouded by mysteries that be.

Pondering upon the stars they have been full of stirs,
slowly they have worked out some of the mysteries,
oh, super-massive black holes dot the universe,
stirring the wise astronomers into the miseries.

Could it be the universe was begun with a bang?
They’re convinced big bang was the mother of the universe,
a bang, then boom, somehow the elements formed the gangs,
these gangs are full of mysteries in this universe.

Personally, I love to fancy the universe as a human body,
as the stars and universal mysteries form cells for the flesh,
the cells would fight to survive or die out within the body,
just so to leave space for the newcomers to be their best.

If one to believe the opposite of infinity is finite,
then one must accept the universe too must age and extinct,
thus the body mirrors the universe that will die,
and all the cells within will too go extinct.

Perhaps, each God creates the universe in his own image,
as the universe dies, a God too would go into extinction,
because each universe could be a body in God’s image,
literally, pushing his worshippers into a universal extinction.

Perhaps, this way, it’s not wrong to worship one true God.
Perhaps, worshipping more than one true God isn’t wrong either,
because each universe is a body of a God,
and so there are many Gods in the ether.

Gods should stop fighting among each other,
because doing so would dance to the devil’s tunes,
and bringing the destruction to our mothers,
while the devil is dancing to his happy tunes.