Turn me on, again

Well, I'm back from KL. It wasn't much of a trip as I didn't do much except shop, shop, shop! Hah. And this time I holed up at Lee Mun's whose single rooms are really just spartan cardboard covered spaces with fan (thank god), decent bed (thank Allah) and cold showers (ack!!!). I didn't take any photos because I reckon that I wouldn't going around any place scenic. Overall it had been a rushed trip which I can sum up in one paragraph.

That is unless I didn't include the things I brought for my friends, family (extended) and myself.

- Personal Chopsticks and Coasters for the family
- Handkerchiefs for Jeremy and Alex ( for coincidences only actually, due to what happen last wed)
- Green Scarf for Hui Tian ( because she's helping me with DFS 42 below manuka honey vodka :D:D:D )
And two more items that are not comfortable for disclosure here due to sensitive recipients.

Anyway, here's my two poems which are actually composed during lectures in camp:

Pseudo Histories I

.

Helen, Helen, not of Troy,

Gallon, Gallon, full of broil,

But these two lines makes no sense,

or are you really, really dense?

.

Julius, Gaius, Nero of Rome,

Behind the Tiber we call home,

Don't be crypto-phobic,

It's all mytho-poetic;

.

What of Claudius, what of art?

most of which that look like fart,

Gold and silver, forged concrete,

yet we still can't win the Greeks;

.

In Italy I seek glory,

so my name have story,

Please stop being clueless and keep asking what?

When in Rome wear a Toga... you twat!

.

Random Reviewer 1: Twisted end for the sake of one, if you ask me.

Random Reviewer 2: So much for being patriotic you proverbial twat, what about matriotic?!?!

.

Monsigneur N

.

Corsi, Corsi, Corsica,

Born Italian, raised as french;

If you want to make it far,

don't let a revo' leave you drenched

.

'Let them eat cake.',

down your heads roll,

Jacobins brake,

that dynastic flow;

.

Potshots at the Tuileries,

maketh the Directory,

Te citizen you say your sorry,

'This is for my own glory;

.

Josephine, Josephine, what a rose,

your heart's what I'll win,

when opportunities arose,

I'll crown you as my queen;

.

Down Italy my army march,

finishing kingdoms by the batch,

even by the end of March,

la Grande Armee has no match;

.

The sun of Austerlitz rose,

through the noon of Marengo;

Even with Wargram's dose,

at Leipzig we lose our goal;

.

Exiled to Elba and yet I return,

will my imperial guards join my rear?

Enemies of France shall burn,

for my men yell 'vive le Emperor!'

.

A hundred days I sit on my throne,

wanting to step the Coalition into poo;

but my few grenadiers stood alone,

against many, thus I met my waterloo.

.

Funny enough that I feel like an empty vessel now. As I type this sentence, I find myself wishing that someone out there in this universe would inject in me the sensation of life.

I sit in my room, wriggling my toes and these lyrics came to my mind again...

.

Like a flower, waiting to bloom,

Like a lightbulb, in a dark room,

I'm just sitting here, waiting for you,

to come on home, to turn me on.

.

Like the desert, waiting for the rain,

like a schoolkid, waiting for the spring,

I'm just sitting here, waiting for you,

to come on home, to turn me on.

.

My poor heart, its been so dark,

since you been gone,

After all, you're the one who turns me off,

you're the only one who can turn me back on,

.

My hi-fi's waiting for a new tune,

My glass is waiting for some fresh ice cubes,

I'm just sitting here, waiting for you,

to come on home, and turn me on,

turn me on....

.

I'm turning sentimental as you sit there in your own room, reading this, toying the idea and having the same thoughts.

.

come away with me,

Boon.