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Karmography Death
By: Faz Fahd

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Friday, 18-Jan-2008 06:28 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Intan and Harry's wedding - photographed by an amateur

intan 01
intan 04
intan 02
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Like an old opera tune
Played upon a harpsichord;
Or like the sun-flooded silks
Of an eighteenth-century boudoir.



In your eyes
Smoulder the fallen roses of out-lived minutes,
And the perfume of your soul
Is vague and suffusing,
With the pungence of sealed spice-jars.
Your half-tones delight me,
And I grow mad with gazing
At your blent colours.



My vigour is a new-minted penny,
Which I cast at your feet.
Gather it up from the dust,
That its sparkle may amuse you.



Wednesday, 1-Nov-2006 18:36 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Posting photographic pictures of something almost but 2 the left

 
 
 
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Wednesday, 1-Nov-2006 17:31 Email | Share | | Bookmark
Sad moments in happy memories

Talking dirty
 
Langkawi with MMU buddies with no seafood dinner
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If - a poem by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;




If you can dream and not make dreams your master;
If you can think and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;




If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"




If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!




Sunday, 13-Nov-2005 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark

 


Wednesday, 26-Oct-2005 00:00 Email | Share | | Bookmark

 
 
 
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