"Poetry spills from the cracks of a broken heart, but flows from one which is loved..." - Christopher Paul Rubero
(1977 - ITM Hostel Open Day...) |
While spring cleaning the study, I came across an old tattered and frayed diary of 1977/1978 nestled among the stack of anatomy and management books.
Half the diary was written by dear husband and the other half by me. Reading the diary brought back memories, both happy and sad. We were in our final Diploma years in ITM. There were lots of lovey dovey exchange between two young hearts…
Back then I was already into poetry.
I don’t know exactly
where our love went wrong
where our love went wrong
There’re so many things
we both can blame it on
I only know this heart of mine
don’t want somebody new
And if you take a step towards me,
I’ll run a mile to you…
(11 October 1977)
Kak Nong,
ReplyDeleteit is a lovely one..
AM,
ReplyDeleteYes it was so beautiful then...
Salam Kak Nong,
ReplyDeleteApa khabar kak?
chantekkkk.
you can run faster now,
ReplyDeletethe federal highway are very much better,
the tolls may post some distraction,
manage your pace well.
Iris,
ReplyDeleteW’salam, i am ok and holding on quite well for now...
When you are in love everything seems beautiful…
*****
Tok Ngah,
There is some truth in what you say, but I am reading in between your lines. You should have known me better by now… We are playing the game of life and distractions are inevitable. We’ve all been there, haven’t we?
If you are in control of your own inner world, there is no distraction you cannot conquer.
The love game is always pivotal no matter who you play with because it gives another added dimension. It should be the other way round - give a little, get a lot.
ReplyDeleteDirectness is accepted as style, that clarity as power. That's when the giving becomes the getting.
A little bit of truth there.
ReplyDeleteLove is like life itself. From the outside, looking in, you can't understand it..
From the inside looking out, you can't explain it.
Salam Nong'
ReplyDeleteLove is like a violin. The music may stop now and then, but the strings remain forever....
Regards,
QJ.
Love was like a violin,
ReplyDeleteplaying soft and low
In your heart you held the strings,
in my heart the bow
Together we made soft sweet music,
together we believed
In every day in every hour
our love was everything
QJ, but in real life, love is not as simple as that…. Sigh…
sometimes,but maybe most of the times, i overlook that feeling of love ...you mentioned many atimes.....
ReplyDeletethere were times..it did rush to me and most of the time it goes in oblivion.....
i decided not to wait for it....
not for this life...
But i understand you now....
syahdunya akak...
ReplyDeleteWe don't know what we've been missing until it arrives. And we don't know what we've got until it’s gone..
ReplyDeleteLove has its own time,
its own seasons
It comes and goes,
devoid of reasons…
Simah,
ReplyDeleteTeringat klasik memory cinta syahdu... he he
Hugs
Salam Kak Nong,
ReplyDeleteApa khabar? I'm back to the blogging world....Alhamdulillah my thesis dah submit, sekarang tunggu panggil viva saja... lagi berdebar-debar...
anyway...Love reading your poetry..beautiful... you are really good in expressing your feelings using words...which I'm lack of...wish I can create those poems like you...
p/s: teringat ada order duit syilling mcm yang Kak Nong bagi souvenir semasa gathering makcik bloggers last year... sorry ... bz sgt sampai lupa...
Norazzah,
ReplyDeleteW’salam. I am ok. So far so good.
Welcome back to blogging world.... You have done your best, InsyaAllah your thesis will go through ok.
I have not been updating my blog diligently of late for a million reasons. Hopefully my passion will not fade as time passes me by.
p/s: Let me know if you still need the coins, I will arrange on my side.