Creativity Encased within a Bottle
At the age of 6, I was once awarded with the "Most Creative Student" title, which could be considered as the most prominent achievement which I have managed to gather during my days in preschool.
I was not and have never been referred to as the brightest scholar; nor have I ever been am0ngst the group of elites when it came to sports. But one thing; one element; one characteristic; one prominent attribute of mine had always stood out; being none other than my immaculate grasp for engaging with creativity.
Ever since childhood, my abilities and advantages in linguistics have been relatively noticeable to the observers around me; as in I have already garnered a rather decent understanding towards how several languages work, and by the age of 12, I already was proficient in 6 languages (English, Malay, Mandarin, Hakka, Cantonese, Hokkein).
My knowledge and mastery in terms of language might sound incredible to some considering my relatively ordinary upbringing, again taking into account of the fact that I was literally still in elementary school back then; but none of the linguistic upper hands which I possessed would even come close to my exercise and application of creativity in life.
I would not reckon that my grasp over the concept of creativity is or ever was profound; but that this attribute of mine certainly offered me a huge head start in a number of ways, and being massively creative has also been what separated me from all the normies surrounding me.
For starters; I have crafted literal mathematical equations to prove my teachers wrong at the age of 8, so that I could prove a point in class; being that whatever's being taught is not necessarily always correct.
I also managed to invent a 'special' serving technique during the interclass badminton competition at the age of 10; which was so unprecedented and effective, that it literally got banned because of how much it broke the nature of rule establishment.
Furthermore, I have came up with sneaky yet creative methods to reduce the amount of time needed to pick up a Rubik's Cube for solves at official competitions, wherein the technique introduced was so ahead of its time, that the authorities deemed it as "an unnatural act which constitutes regulation abuse", eventually disqualifying me for simply being "too good" as a result of immense creativity.
But even with all of that being said, I still would at times feel as if my abilities are greatly limited to various extents; as in my creativity still feels as if it's far from being utilised and expressed to the brim; as if I am one who has his Creativity Encased within a Bottle.
Fortunately however, this E-portfolio acts as a platform for me to finally express all of my ideas; being a medium for me to have my imaginations run wild in the form of writing. As such, the following would be a brief introduction to a few of my personalities as a writer; as well as a showcase and detailed piece of analysis for 4 written pieces of mine, which consists of one piece of scriptwriting, one horror story, as well as two poems.
My Writer Personalities
As such, it did not take long for me to realise the 2 most dominant traits of mine would go together seamlessly, eventually leading to the self-discovery that I was in fact a creative writer.
Being creative in crafting written pieces also meant that I possessed some sort of sub-trait, some forms of personality within me; those which only appear to be visible whenever I produced any type of writing. Thus, the following would be a detailed showcase and run-through of the three personalities of mine in writing, being those which I would identify with the most given the strong sense of resonation with the concept of the to-be-mentioned writer traits.
An Artistic Writer
I hated playing by the rules; I hated being told what to do and what not to; I absolutely despised and detested the norm wherein learners or writers are to conform to a certain structure; a fixed set of regulations when it came to scribbling ideas on a piece of paper. Unsurprisingly, one of the most obvious personalities of mine when it comes to writing would be the "artistic" trait.
No, I am no artist; nor have I ever been any good at painting masterpieces of a piece of canvas; but I have as a matter of fact, demonstrated my phenomenal abilities of bringing life to text through the power of writing. I am an artistic writer; as in I am capable of producing excellent writing should I be left with a personal space to perform unrestricted self-expression of ideas. I am a writer who prioritises the absence of authority when it comes to writing, as in I do not favour the idea of being imprisoned within the confines of literary or syntactical boundaries. I would often show preference for playing with the infinite possibilities of sentence arrangement; as well as advocating for the right of freedom in expressing ideas via writing.
An Investigative Writer
At times, I would also indulge in the questioning of whether if what I know to be true, is in fact; true. I did not invent the language which I use; I did not create the systems of grammar and vocabulary which I apply in writing; nor have I ever been the predecessor of whatever I endorse to be rightfully right and legitimate.
As such, I have also considered myself to be a writer who possesses the personality of being investigative. I tend to seek justification for backing up and legitimatising each and every piece of information which I am exposed to, in pursuit of what I uphold to be the absolute and correct piece of response. I am fully aware of the fact that nothing in existence will ever be 100% accurate or so-called "correct"; but I do remain interested in the constant phase of investigation towards what I deem worthy of questioning. such as constantly conducting research upon certain topics which manage to harvest my curiosity in writing.
As an investigative writer, it is of no surprise that I would fact-check all of my works from time to time; in an attempt to ensure that whatever I disseminate as resources of knowledge would at no point be misleading, nor inaccurate to the observer. I am a writer who emphasises and also never ceases to advocate for the importance of curiosity, not only in the realm of writing; but to also forever remain conscious of the fact that learning is an infinitely-extensive process.
An Open-Minded Writer
Apart from that, I have found myself to be a writer who considers exposure to unconventional ideas to be rather common and fathomable, leading to the conclusion that another personality of mine when it comes to writing would none other than open-mindedness.
I am an open-minded writer. I find ideas which do not align with the general consensus to be rather appealing and even attractive; I enjoy delving into the stretches of time; going distances to understand what certain pieces of unconventional writing actually mean, to unearth the subconscious meaning embedded beneath the visible surface; I, as an open-minded writer, have always been comfortable with accepting constructive criticism, since I am fully aware of the fact that listening to good advice translates the production of better writing in the long run.
Albeit all of the discouraging comments and voices of insults surrounding me as I evolved from a rookie to the skilled creative writer which I am today; I am truly grateful for one thing: being that I managed to realise my imminent potential before it was too late; and that I never gave up, contributing to the eventual success which I have gained along the way as a decorated creative writer, as a result of inhumane determination and steel-like perseverance throughout the years despite all the suffers.
Albeit all of the discouraging comments and voices of insults surrounding me as I evolved from a rookie to the skilled creative writer which I am today; I am truly grateful for one thing: being that I managed to realise my imminent potential before it was too late; and that I never gave up, contributing to the eventual success which I have gained along the way as a decorated creative writer, as a result of inhumane determination and steel-like perseverance throughout the years despite all the suffering.
WRITTEN PIECE #1 - SCRIPTWRITING
The first written piece to be showcased as part of this e-portfolio would be a horror story written in the form of a script, which goes by the title of "A Floral Promise", which uses the logline of "Psychic gets Revenge on his Bully by Justifying his Deadly Prediction".
The story in simple words, tells the tale of how a psychic makes a random prediction regarding his classmates' fates 30 years in the future, and the seemingly-innocent statements made by him would later turn out to be true in an unexpected and horrifying fashion.
The main character of the story, Roux Wegner, suddenly remembers at a class reunion 30 years later that they had a self-proclaimed psychic in class back when they were still in elementary school, and he jokingly mocks the inaccuracy of the kid's former predictions, even going as far as making fun of his death after he found out that the psychic had passed away in a car accident.
The rationale for Roux's indecent behaviour would be that he was told by the psychic, Gilles Mandach back then, that he would be surrounded by flowers 30 years in the future. Given that Roux eventually became a property agent and that he did not pursue any careers related to flowers such as florists', he deemed Gilles' prediction to be stupid and off-putting, sarcastically mocking his so-called "psychic" abilities.
The story takes a huge and sharp turn in events when Roux leaves the premises where the class reunion was held in at 2 a.m. due to work, despite the fact that it was pouring outside, even with a thunderstorm raging on, making driving conditions very dire and unsafe. Despite everyone's efforts to stop Roux from leaving for his own safety, Roux still insisted on following his decision, which led to an eerily deadly car accident that claimed Roux's life on the spot after his vehicle slipped and plummeted into the deep gauge beside the road.
At Roux's funeral, his friends all mourn and grief over the loss of the 'innocent' soul. One of the gang, Ralf Louie, makes a chilling discovery; being how Gilles' prediction 30 years ago was right all along, and that Roux was at this moment, indeed surrounded by flowers; wrapped around his tombstone.
This written script consists of four separate acts in total, with the first act having its setting at night in the VIP lounge of an Outback Steakhouse premise; the second act at midnight at the same premise, but outdoors in the parking lot; the third act at 2 a.m. on Route 66 in the USA; and the fourth and final act at daytime in front of Roux's grave, which was located in Maryland Graveyard, the USA.
The story involved six characters in total, being the main character, Roux Wegner; the psychic, Gilles Mandach; as well as four other friends of Roux's who attended the class reunion, being Ralf Louie, Gregoire Pfennig, Jean Macron, and Francois Gilbert.'
This script also consists of an approximate 800 words and is about 4,000 characters in length, spread across 7 pages for the "Times New Roman" font in Size 12 for a word. document, wherein creative writing techniques like plot and structure have also been appropriately applied, with the cherry on top being the unexpected plot twist included in the end of the story, which adds to the creativity and chilling attribute of the script.
The rules and regulations for scriptwriting were also adhered to for this piece of scriptwriting, such as abiding to the use of formatting; as in aligning the "Cut to" line to the right, underlining the "Act 'x' " line, using capitalisation for a character's name should it be their first time being introduced to the story etc., which shows the author's adequate understanding and grasp of the concept of scriptwriting.
A Floral Promise
ACT 1
INT. OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE – NIGHT
VIP LOUNGE
A group of 5 businessmen gather around the dining table, sharing conversations which bring them back to the good old memories in high school. They laugh as they compliment on the abundance of mesmerising dishes being served at the establishment, passing the hours with nothing but cheers and joy as they reminisce over all the fun they have had 30 years ago. At one point, ROUX mentions a name which somehow rings a bell within the group’s minds.
CLOSE UP ON ROUX
ROUX
(In a joking manner)
Yo anyone remembers Gilles? Y’know, the weird ass kid in class who claimed to be psychic?
GREGOIRE
(Laughing)
Oh yeah of course I do, like lol that son of a bitch innit? Maybe he foretold his absence at every reunion party with his lame ass “powers” I guess? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
CLOSE UP ON RALF
RALF
(With a serious face)
Umm… Guys? I heard that Gilles kinda like… died a few years back… in a car accident...
Dead silence fills the air right after Ralf lets out such a shocking and unexpected statement. No one knew what to throw out as a response; nor did they recall just what they said prior.
ROUX
(Laughing nervously)
Well, I mean… Too bad for the kid I suppose… Musta been all of his false prophecies and predictions which eventually got to him lmfao. Props to Gilles for pulling off the most badass form of blasphemy in the history of mankind, eh?
Eerie silence once again. Not a single soul could comprehend just how twisted could Roux be to release such a nasty and inappropriate statement.
JEAN
(Constantly looking around the room)
Um… well not really. Remember when he said I’d be surrounded by flowers in 30 years?
CLOSE UP ON ROUX
ROUX
(Confused)
Uh yeah what about it? That statement of his which turned him into the ultimate class clown?
JEAN
(In a serious tone while clearing his throat)
Well… that’s not as inaccurate as we thought… I did in fact begin a start-up as a florist…
Everyone appears to be in utter surprise, unable to believe what they had just heard.
ROUX
(Raising his eyebrow)
Aw come on, that’s gotta be another of those Goddamn coincidences. The kid just got lucky.
FRANCOIS
(Clearing his throat)
Well come to think of it… He did mention that I would be surrounded by bread… My God, he was right! I did end up as the CEO of a bakery 30 years later!
The sign of disbelief and amazement on everyone’s faces appear to be increasingly noticeable, except for that of Roux.
CLOSE UP ON ROUX
ROUX
(Annoyed and rolling his eyes)
Goddamit the kid’s lucky as F*ck... There’s gotta be something which he incorrectly predicted… AHA! He said that I would be surrounded by flowers as well! But I ain’t no florist, I’M A GODDAMN PROPERTY AGENT! Jokes on him, HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Everyone lets out a relieved laugh, as if the intensified atmosphere had just been dismissed.
RALF
(With a nervous giggle)
Hahaha…maybe you’re right… Gilles had us good in the first half lol, not gon’ lie.
CUT TO:
ACT 2
EXT. OUTBACK STEAKHOUSE – MIDNIGHT
PARKING LOT
The dead silence of the night sky gets interrupted by a heavy downpour, complemented with RAGING THUNDER and LIGHTNING, illuminating the dark with constant flashes of blinding whiteness. ROUX had to return at the minute to handle his clients’ inquiries, but his fellow friends strongly encouraged him to stay and wait till the storm passes for safety. Regardless, ROUX still made the decision to leave, as he favoured his fortune over the possibility of endangering himself.
CUT TO:
ACT 3
EXT. ROUTE 66 – 2 A.M.
ON THE HIGHWAY
The STORM RAGES ON, and the HOWLING WINDS have not made driving any easier for Roux. He begins to feel increasingly fatigued due to constant driving and also as a result of decreased visibility arising from the terrible weather conditions. All of a sudden, Roux loses focus and accidentally steps on the brake, causing his vehicle to drift uncontrollably, eventually plummeting into the gauge right beside the highway.
CUT TO:
ACT 4
EXT. MARYLAND GRAVEYARD – DAY
IN FRONT OF ROUX’S GRAVE
Jean, Gregoire, Ralf and Francois all weep in front of Roux’s coffin, as he is gradually lowered six feet into the ground, being laid onto his final resting place.
GREGOIRE
(Devastated)
OH ROUX! I SHOULD’VE FORCED YOU TO STAY… WHY DID I NOT??? WHY???
CLOSE UP ON RALF
RALF
(Trembling with fear)
My God… Guys… Gilles was right all along…
JEAN
(With tears in his eyes)
Wha… What do you mean…
RALF
(Shaking as he points with his index finger)
He is surrounded with flowers… Look at his tombstone…
CLOSE UP ON ROUX’S TOMBSTONE
WRITTEN PIECE #2 - HORROR STORY
As a child, I have always fancied the idea of writing horror stories. I indulged in reading series of horror; going on and going for hours without sensing the slightest of boredom. I identified watching horror films as my favourite pastime, and I would find anything horror-related to be rather fascinating, given that it hits the spot whenever I come across such material.
One thing in particular stood out the most: being my passion for writing horror stories. It started out when I was still a young lad in elementary school, where I spent a relatively large portion of my free time to craft horror tales which were about 2-3 pages long. Despite only having a very limited mastery of language and vocabulary; my passion and interest for writing in the horror genre never diminished; which had eventually sculpted me into an insightful and skilled writer of horror stories.
As such, the following would be a showcase of the second written piece within this E-portfolio; being a short horror story entitled "Singing Concrete". The entire piece spans across an approximate 7 pages with the Times New Roman font at in Size 12 setting with double-spacing, consisting of an estimated 1,750+ words and 8,000+ characters in total.
The story tells the tale of how a girl, Helen Pretzelson, had murdered her sister, Anna, in order to replace her for inheriting their late uncle, Jimmy Pretzelson's fortune after he had passed away. Even though Helen had appeared to be successful in her gruesome attempt to disguise as Anna using her immaculate make-up skills; her plan still somehow began to tear apart when people discovered that music appears to be coming from behind the wall in her room...
Singing Concrete
“Music is the universal language.” It’s true, I mean. Well, kind of- not that there’s much to be argued about.
As much as I enjoyed dancing to the rhythm of classical pieces, I couldn’t help but ponder over just how often do I get overshadowed by Anna. Her perfect pitch; her perfect voice; her perfect looks- EVERYTHING about her was nothing but FLAWLESSNESS.
Not that it bothered me at all anyways. Maybe not a lot- Or how much I hoped that the ones surrounding us never noticed the immaculate attributes constituting her every step.
People would usually refer to the two of us as the embodiment of duality- Obviously, not in a good fashion, as any sane person would have anticipated. They claimed that we’re the “Yin” and “Yang” of sisterhood- with one constantly being showered in never-ending flows of glory and success; while the other never even having appeared to be worthy of the slightest acknowledgement, simply being there for the sake of existing.
She’s the scholar, athlete, poet; I’m the screw-up- don’t I know it.
Yes, obviously, I DO. And BOY did it drive me nuts.
My younger sister just somehow seemed to excel in everything she did. So much so, that whenever anyone were to offer us with anything decent; zero contemplation was ever needed to make a decision between choosing from the two of us- As to them, there’s only one good apple lying amongst a bed of rotten consumables.
There was this once when our uncle, Jimmy Pretzelson, had brought us with a gift which he had obtained as a souvenir from travelling abroad. It was this magnificent music box; one which had a golden casing, embroidered with the finest jewels a child would have ever set their sights on. Within the box stood a figure superficially resembling an angel, crafted completely out of fine crystal, rotating in circles as the lovely classic of “Clair de Lune” played from the box. The gift was a literal piece of treasure to any eight-year-old, and both Anna and I were no exception.
Both of us wanted the music box, yet there was unfortunately only one of it, meaning that Uncle Jimmy would have had to ponder over which niece of his would deserve the marvelous gift. And as anticipated, little to no hesitation was made amid the decision, as I eventually had to witness the painful sight of Uncle Jimmy handing the precious music box over to Anna, instantly filling the air with her sharp waves of laughter and joyful cheers.
I remember going through a break-up in high school, and even losing my mother to cancer; but nothing felt as painful and as heartbreaking as losing what I loved and hearted the most; especially when it’s losing something to that prick.
I HATED Anna. I did.
Anna spent all her nights listening to the melodic track being played by the music box, and the gift would soon enough be exalted to the peak of her heart. She loved it with every inch of her being, and she wouldn’t let go of that music box for anything. ANYTHING. Not even if I was willing to trade 200 Francs with her for that stupid piece of soon-to-be shredded metal, which kind of explains, given that I loved the present just as much as Anna did back then.
I HATED Anna. I still do, and I forever will. And I’ll ensure that she pays for what she’s done. For I, HELEN PRETZELSON, am a girl who ensures she gets what she wants.
Things would still have not seemed so discouraging, if it wasn’t for the LAST STRAW.
I’VE HAD ENOUGH. I truly have. Not only had Anna succeeded in ruining my already torn-apart and mundane life; she has now managed to further destroy any hopes of mine by being chosen as the SOLE INHERITOR of a massive fortune.
One day, we were informed that Uncle Jimmy had unfortunately passed away in a tragic car accident. Given that he had no spouse nor children, that meant that someone would be entitled to inherit his belongings. And according to his will which was uncovered by the police, that inheritor; that UNDESERVING HEIR, was none other than-
*I would’ve liked to use the four-letter-word to express just how disturbed and mad I felt at the time, but unfortunately her name ends with four letters as well, thus I suppose we’ll just let that slide*
Just for some context, Uncle Jimmy was the founder of the largest spice-retailing agency in Saint-Etienne at the time. He had monopolised the spice-trading market for over 2 whole decades, and had managed to amass an immaculate fortune amounting to over 2 million Francs at the time of his death.
In retrospect, this also meant that whoever inherited his riches would instantly receive a sum which equated to 1000 months’ of pay- or the equivalent of automatically being granted with over 80 whole years of wages without having to do anything at all.
And that lucky brat, was none other than-
Oh how I wished that “brat” had a five-letter-word for her name. But unfortunately not.
As such, the officials would be paying Anna a visit three weeks later to have her sign all the required paperwork and documentation for her to officially inherit Uncle Jimmy’s possessions and his wealth. Though Anna did seem noticeably saddened to learn about her beloved uncle’s passing, she still was relatively grateful that Uncle Jimmy gave her the opportunity to lead a more fulfilling life, which I suppose must have been the sweet result of her always listening to what the Goddamn old man had to tell as lame stories.
Pathetic.
Still not as pathetic as not being selected as the heir though. Damn.
That night, I knocked on Anna’s door.
She let me in after a few seconds, as she sat on her bed, flipping through the pages of what seemed to be a journal.
She then put down the book and began fiddling with the music box which dear Uncle Jimmy had given to (ME) her some 10 years ago. She still loved it as much as when she first laid her eyes on what she thought to be the most incredible gadget to have ever been created, and the lovely tunes let out by the music box still sounded as sweet and resonating as before, seemingly unaffected by the cruel interference of time.
Still not as cruel as being forced to live in the shadows of that little prick though.
“I’ve had it,” I thought to myself. And I’m not going to let this golden opportunity slip away once again.
Anna loved coffee. She was a huge addict of the substance, and she’s so obsessed with it that she needed to consume a cup every night before bedtime, else she would have not been able to fall asleep.
Not that she’s gonna wake up the next morning anyways. (Insert sinister smile)
I entered her room, and with a gentle smile on my face, I treated her with decent hospitality by offering her a nice and hot cup of coffee. Unbeknownst to her, this unexpected piece of niceness does not come for free. Anna does not realise that she’s cooked; just like what was within the cup held in her hands.
Not long after downing the final beverage she would ever get to sip on, Anna fell to the ground, gradually losing consciousness as blurry visions of the evil grin on my face begun to fade away, with audible waves of sinister laughter echoing throughout her ears, as her final piece of thought eventually succumbed to complete darkness.
Not even darkness; as you would require consciousness to realise the presence of oblivion.
Anna’s room wasn’t the largest; yet it still had a high ceiling, which also meant that the space was accompanied with concrete walls which were wide enough.
Wide enough to fit her remains beneath them, sealing that pathetic peasant off from the rest of the world for eternity.
It took me days to saw and cut her body into parts; small enough to finally fit behind the walls which formed the confines of where Anna had spent her entire life within.
Interestingly, she had died with such intense tension emanating from her right hand, that the damned music box still was attached to it even days after I ended her for good.
I guess she did deserve to have it. Not that it mattered anymore though, since I’ve got a FORTUNE to INHERIT now with Anna GONE.
As I placed the final brick back into the wall, Anna’s corpse had finally been sealed off completely. The room now appeared rather empty and vague without the presence of that poor little soul, but not like anyone would ever find out about the terrible fate which she had once experienced; nor would anyone ever recall that Anna was even ever here.
I’m (Helen) ANNA Pretzelson, and I am the RIGHTFUL INHERITOR of Jimmy Pretzelson’s fortune.
Weeks went by, and it was finally the day for me to shine. The authorities have visited my premises to finalise the paperwork for the inheritance and transfer of asset ownership.
“Hey Anna, says here that you’ve got a sister named Helen? Where’s she at?”
“Oh officer Helen relocated to Italy a few weeks ago, not that I’ve heard much from her this lately.”
I grinned. No, I smiled. Not really, I actually laughed.
My meticulous scheme had worked so well, that no one was able to tell that I was disguised as Anna, probably also owing to the fact that I worked as a make-up artist, and that I had been presented to the others in what Anna usually wore.
“Wait, why do I hear music?”
“Is that Beethoven?”
“No dumbass that’s Clair de Lune by Debussy”
As much as I wished, I refrained myself from stopping the authorities to avoid seeming suspicious, as they gradually made their way across the hallway, up the stairs, and into (Anna’s) MY room.
I tried with all my might to stop them, but it was too late.
Those speedy demons had already begun tearing down the walls with sledgehammers.
What comes up must eventually fall down, just like how the rotting remains of Anna slowly became visible to the officials, finally falling towards the concrete floor, all whilst holding a music box in her right hand.
Yes, officer. That was Clair de Lune by Debussy. Not Beethoven.
WRITTEN PIECE #3 - POEM #1
I had always been regarded as someone who is exceptionally gifted in bringing ideas to life on paper; often addressed as the sorcerer who makes text dance and letters dwindle. As such, it is of no surprise that I would usually find solace and comfort in writing poems; being the best type of writing which I am capable of producing.
I enjoy playing with the structure of a poem by implementing the dynamic use of various creative writing techniques such as rhyme, rhythm, alliteration, assonance, consonance, repetition etc., wherein I am also experienced in injecting written text with a does of aliveness and life through my mastery of juxtaposing diverse uses of vocabulary and linguistic syntax.
As a poet, I would consider that writing poems would indeed my amongst my rather visible core strengths when it comes to creative writing, which allows me to effectively showcase written piece #3 of this E-portfolio, being the first of two poems to be analysed, wherein this piece is completely original, and it is one which I have produced without drawing inspiration from any external sources, thus demonstrating the authenticity of the work exhibited.
The poem in question was created from the point of view of a seasoned competitor, who had just lost a massive public speaking competition for the first time in forever, thus having to experience immense magnitudes of pressure as a result of the huge expectations leveraged onto his shoulders from the ones looking up to him.
The poet eventually accepts his defeat and is aware of the reasons which accounted for his sub-par performance, but still insisted on providing a narcissistic tone to his piece, adding sensible elements of utter hatred and dissatisfaction being present from the facets of inner unrest.
Preamble
This piece was created from the point of view of a seasoned competitor, who had just lost a massive public speaking competition for the first time in forever, thus having to experience immense magnitudes of pressure as a result of the huge expectations leveraged onto his shoulders from the ones looking up to him. The poet eventually accepts his defeat and is aware of the reasons which accounted for his sub-par performance, but still insisted on providing a narcissistic tone to his piece, adding sensible elements of utter hatred and dissatisfaction being present from the facets of inner unrest.
Larcenous Laceration
By LIM KAI YI
Ten steps in, one step out
thunderous cries succumbing to piteous shouts
Drop the grin, raise the snout
Grave-digging never was, nor will it ever be for stouts.
Phoenixes clash, marigolds wither;
Robbing my stash, o’ mischievous and clever.
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure
Does watching me crumble make up your pleasure?
Ten, Nine, not One, but Seven
Vanishing Earths’ not hell but heaven?
To some, clarity is nothing but an illusion,
Playing with my sanity, with their tricks and diversion
60, 30, 10, Good Luck;
Of course match-fixing never seemed to suck
Electing victors as though we’re incubating presidents,
I thought voting had always constituted fairness?
“We’re proud of you” they say
When on seas of triumph you manage to lay
“I thought he won, wait no he didn’t?”
Not when you’re expected to, when some thought you shouldn’t
“Life’s not all sunshine and rainbows”
Reality’s just spikes, thorns and arrows
“Take it with a pinch of salt,” says those who flourish
In the realm of normality, commonness and tarnish
Halt ye, grow ye, ye fragile mind
For life’s meaning is still to find
Wrap ye in wrath; and joy would be round
In the abyss of negligence, abhorrence, and detestation profound
One step up, two steps down
Seas of applause, thus why the frown?
Without light will not be darkness,
What’s life anyway, should it no longer be pointless?
Poem Transcription
Ten steps in, one step out
thunderous cries succumbing to piteous shouts
Drop the grin, raise the snout
Grave-digging never was, nor will it ever be for stouts.
Phoenixes clash, marigolds wither;
Robbing my stash, o’ mischievous and clever.
One man’s trash is another man’s treasure
Does watching me crumble make up your pleasure?
Ten, Nine, not One, but Seven
Vanishing Earths’ not hell but heaven?
To some, clarity is nothing but an illusion,
Playing with my sanity, with their tricks and diversion
60, 30, 10, Good Luck;
Of course match-fixing never seemed to suck
Electing victors as though we’re incubating presidents,
I thought voting had always constituted fairness?
“We’re proud of you” they say
When on seas of triumph you manage to lay
“I thought he won, wait no he didn’t?”
Not when you’re expected to, when some thought you shouldn’t
“Life’s not all sunshine and rainbows”
Reality’s just spikes, thorns and arrows
“Take it with a pinch of salt,” says those who flourish
In the realm of normality, commonness and tarnish
Halt ye, grow ye, ye fragile mind
For life’s meaning is still to find
Wrap ye in wrath; and joy would be round
In the abyss of negligence, abhorrence, and detestation profound
One step up, two steps down
Seas of applause, thus why the frown?
Without light will not be darkness,
What’s life anyway, should it no longer be pointless?
"Ten Steps" symbolises the massive amount of effort and time needed for a speaker to even qualify for the final of the competition, as in "ten years"; and "one step" shows the cruel contrast of how it takes unfathomable amounts of preparation for a speaker to get themselves ready for battle; yet a single mistake is already enough to send them packing.
"Thunderous cries" refer to the immense and decent performance delivered by the poet at the competition; yet somehow still managing to lose to rather unimpressive efforts by the fellow competitors, hence "piteous shouts", showcasing the poet's huge upset and dissatisfaction towards the results.
"Drop the grin" would be how the poet demonstrates his disappointment towards his loss; and "raise the snout" refers to how he decides to not accept for endorse the fact that he literally lost to some randommo, proceeding to keep his head up high with pride and arrogance.
The term "grave-digging" was used by the poet to refer to the competition results as a robbery of his victory, and the phrase "nor will it ever will be for stouts" shows how the poet refuses to accept defeat; and that he reemphasises the notion and claim that he was robbed of his rightful and supposed win, plus the statement that he does not support the judges' 'unlawful' verdict.
"Phoenixes clash" refer to how many greats were competing on stage during the mentioned public speaking competition; and "marigolds wither" would be a direct reference towards how the poet, a literal seasoned and decorated speaker, had somehow suffered defeat.
"Robbing my stash" refers to how the poet claimed that undeserving candidates have unrightfully triumphed over him, especially considering that the poet himself has literally won countless public speaking competitions before, hence indicating a robbery. "mischievous and clever" is again the poet's description of his rivals who won, portraying them as cunning brats who were both undeserving of victory, and unqualified for the position.
This line refers to how the poet claims that although awards at the competition simply were of little significance to many, he still valued it a ton given his enthusiasm for public speaking, and would hence feel the hit should he had lost.
The poet exercised irony through this line, as he is seen 'questioning' the winners of the competition if they sarcastically feel happy to watch the poet himself lose.
The numbers here represent the participant number for each contestant at the competition, wherein number 10 was the third-place winner; number 9 being the runner-up, number 7 being the champion, and number 1 being the poet himself. This line acts to show how everyone including the audience had favoured the poet and had expected him to win; yet he somehow fell short of victory.
"Vanishing Earths" acts as a symbolism for the poet's inner state of devastation when he lost the competition, and he again showcases sarcasm through questioning the reader if such magnitudes of distress should somehow not be perceived as a piece of loss incurred; but instead as a joyful episode, being the exact opposite of what every loser would have felt.
The poet used this line to again throw irony at the judges' decision to not make him the winner, deeming their verdict as a lack of clarity; as if saying that to them as well as to everyone else, clarity of the judging is not significant at all, hence explaining the poet's defeat.
The poet applies irony once again, claiming that the judges' verdict has made him question his sanity due to unfathomable depression arising from his loss, as in stating that the judges' decision was simply a form of nonsensical and theatrical act.
The numbers here represent the allocation of scoring to each category for the public speaking competition in terms of percentage; with 60% being the content, 30% for the delivery, and 10% for the use of language, while "Good luck" simply refers to how the facilitators had wished the competitors with good luck before going on stage.
This line would be a direct comment by the poet at the judges' decision to make him lose; calling it literal "match-fixing", thus demonstrating the sense of satire and irony.
The line refers to how the audience really gave their all in terms of voting for the audience's favourite speaker, being an award which the poet managed to win at the competition. The poet was trying to show that the votes submitted were in fact the audience's raw and honest opinions, hence his performance was indeed recognised and approved to be the best by the entirety of the crowd.
The poet again throws shade at the results of the competition, since he had just mentioned that should the general consensus decided that he won; then he should have rightfully remained victorious; yet, the judges' 'unfair' verdict still made him lose, thus he uses irony to question if the results were even fair at all.
The poet refers to how he would usually be complimented by those around him for making the community proud, given his abundance of successful experiences and achievements garnered in the past.
The poet uses sarcasm to reflect on how the ones around him would only congratulate him should he had appeared to be victorious; and that he would not even be consoled at the slightest should he had somehow lost, reinforcing the irony of high expectations from others.
This line reflects the usual expectations which everyone would have for the poet; given that he in fact the top-performer in a lot of things, thus explaining the high hopes to which he would always be bestowed upon with.
The poet again stresses on how many were shocked to discover that he had lost the competition, considering that he was the literal top seed that day.
The poet agrees with the classic quote that life is full of obstacles, referring to his defeat in the competition.
This line resonates with the "laceration" theme embedded within the title of the poem, referring to how painful and costly did the poet perceive his defeat at the public speaking competition as.
The poet claims that those around him still did reassure him post-competition for his loss.
The poet demonstrates irony when he explains why certain individuals had reassured him after he lost the competition, reason being that they were too ordinary to even fathom the immense pain of losing at the top level.
This line reinforces the idea that the poet's friends and loved ones kept on advising him to move on from his loss; even going as far as to view his negative mentality as a portrayal of 'fragile' behaviour.
The poet again mentions the advice given by the ones around him, regarding how he should move on instead of reminiscing over his defeat; since there still is much more to life in terms of its significance.
This line forms a paradox intentionally set up by the poet; since he claims that he would be happy should he choose not to move on, and to keep on being remaining angry over the supposed 'robbery' of victory which he had experienced at the public speaking competition.
The poet leaves the readers to reminisce over how he would prefer to stay angered over his loss at the competition, than to move on and proceed towards his next goal, purposely trying to form confusion.
The poet again slams on how the public speaking competition had already become an event in the past.
The line portrays another application of irony by the poet, since he wrote from the perspective of the audience, being those who were confused as to why did the poet still remain sad even though he had won the "Audience's Favourite Speaker" award; even though everyone knew very well that the poet was disappointed since he had lost officially, regardless if he had won anything else.
This line reflects on how the poet agrees that without the presence of high hopes, disappointment and other repercussions would have never been induced should a loss be met with.
The poet again exercises irony to throw shade at the public speaking competition as a whole, sarcastically stating that life was meant to be meaningless, thus it would have made total sense for him to lose anyways.
POEM ANALYSIS FOR USE OF LITERARY DEVICES
Literary devices are referred to as “specific techniques that allow a writer to convey a deeper meaning that goes beyond what’s on the page” (Master Class, 2021).
Literary devices are usually applied for writers to express their ideas as well as to hint at larger themes and meanings within a story, and are considered as amazing gadgets to enhance writing, to strengthen the narrative, as well as to engage readers, eventually helping them to connect to and resonate with the characters' themes (Owen-Jones, n.d.).
Examples of literary devices would encapsulate of allusions, metaphors, personification, similes, foreshadowing, allegories, repetition, alliterations, etc.
For the purpose of this study, only one literary device in particular will be touched on, being rhyme, wherein this would be an attempt at analysing how the aforementioned literary device was integrated into the making of the e-portfolio in question.
According to the Centre for Literacy in Primary Education (n.d)., rhyme is defined as “the repetition of syllables, typically at the end of a verse line.” Rhyming words conventionally share sounds following the word's last stressed syllable, like how the use of rhyme in poetry would be how the line “One, two” rhymes with the next line “Buckle my shoe”.
As such, the following would be a showcase of how the use of rhyme as applied for writing the 3rd piece showcased in the e-portfolio, being a poem by the title of “Larcenous Laceration”, a piece created from the point of view of a seasoned competitor, who had just lost a massive public speaking competition for the first time in forever, thus having to experience immense magnitudes of pressure as a result of the huge expectations leveraged onto his shoulders from the ones looking up to him.
The poet eventually accepts his defeat and is aware of the reasons which accounted for his sub-par performance, but still insisted on providing a narcissistic tone to his piece, adding sensible elements of utter hatred and dissatisfaction being present from the facets of inner unrest.
This piece of analysis will involve the first stanza of the poem, being as follows:
Ten steps in, one step out
thunderous cries succumbing to piteous shouts
Drop the grin, raise the snout
Grave-digging never was, nor will it ever be for stouts.
The use of rhyme was made apparent in four instances; with the first one being how the first half of all four lines had the repetition of the “in” syllable, such as in “in” (line 1), “succumbing” (line 2), “grin” (line 3), and “Grave-digging” (line 4).
The second visible application of rhyme qualifies as consonance, which is “recurrence or repetition of consonants especially at the end of stressed syllables without the similar correspondence of vowels” (Merriam-Webster Dictionary, n.d.)., since the “-g” consonant was repeated twice, being in “succumbing” (line 2) and in “Grave-digging” (line 4).
The third instance of rhyme being used in the stanza would be the repetition of the syllable “out”, as in “out” (line 1), “shouts” (line 2), “snout” (line 3) and “stouts” (line 4).
The fourth and final example of how rhyme was applied to this stanza would be again another use of consonance, since consonance qualifies as a subset of rhyme. This is shown through how the “-s” consonant was repeated twice at the end of lines 2 and 4, being “shouts” in line 2 and “stouts” in line 4.
Even till the end of the poem, the use of rhyme still was made apparent and obvious, with the following being a detailed showcase and analysis of the final stanza to support the claim in question.
One step up, two steps down
Seas of applause, thus why the frown?
Without light will not be darkness,
What’s life anyway, should it no longer be pointless?
The first instance of rhyme was found in the end of the first two lines, being the repetition of “-own” in “down” of line 1 and “frown” in line 2.
The second instance of rhyme was found in the second word of both lines 3 and 4; wherein the vowel “i” was repeated twice, in “light” (line 3) and in “life” (line 4).
The final piece of rhyme being used within the shown stanza would be the repetition of the suffix “-ess” at the end of lines 3 and 4, being in “darkness” (line 3) and in “pointless” (line 4).
As such, it can be clearly seen that the use of rhyme was in fact exercised properly under appropriate circumstances throughout the entire poem, “Goodbye, my Love; No, my Mistake”, which justifies this piece of showcase for the creative techniques applied in the course of completing the mentioned e-portfolio.
WRITTEN PIECE #4 - POEM #2
The written piece to be showcased as part of the E-portfolio would be the second and final poem, titled "Goodbye, my Love; No, my Mistake", which counts as a tribute to a song by an amazing vocalist from Kazakhstan.
This piece was written in response to the Russian track “Love of Tired Swans” or “Любовь уставших лебедей”, released by Kazakh singer-songwriter Dimash Kudaibergenov (Дінмұхаммед Құдайберген) in 2021. The original song which formed the inspiration for this poem, was about the tale of how two lovebirds are symbolised by the relationship shared by two swans who cannot live apart due to their intimate and profound love for each other.
As such, this piece by LIM KAI YI was written from the viewpoint of two individuals who were in a relationship, with the setting being post-breakup. The first, second, third, fourth, fifth, eleventh, and twelfth stanzas were written from the POV of the counterpart who had allegedly ruined the mentioned relationship because of cheating with someone else; whereas the sixth, seventh, eight, ninth, tenth, thirteenth, and fourteenth stanzas were written from the POV of the counterpart who got cheated on.
The poem in question aims to form a huge contrast to the original song by Dimash, since the original track was all about how fondly and deeply have two souls in a relationship loved each other; whereas this piece and adaptation by LIM KAI YI tells the exact opposite: being how one who cheated on their former loved one now regrets their unwise and foolish decision made formerly, while their ex refuses to accept their apology, and hence advocates for them to move on, and accept the fact that this relationship is very much over.
Thus, it is not difficult to visualise both the surface and subconscious meaning embedded within the name or title of the poem, since “Goodbye” would signify that the romantic relationship between the two personas in question is officially over; the “No, My Mistake” component of the title also hints at the fact that the one who got cheated on finally realises that their ex was indeed a waste of time after all, as in they should have never been together with someone who only functioned to waste their precious time on Earth – a literal mistake.
The poem was also meticulously crafted to be singable based on the rhyme and rhythm of the original piece, “Love of Tired Swans”; given that the syllable count is very much identical, accompanied by the fact that the rhyming is also consistent, plus how the sentence structure also goes in line with the lyrics which Dimash Kudaibergenov has originally created.
For some context, the lines in white are to be sung / recited from the POV of the first persona; whereas the lines in yellow are to be sung / recited from the second persona's POV.
Preamble
This piece was written in response to the Russian track “Love of Tired Swans” or “Любовь уставших лебедей”, released by Kazakh singer-songwriter Dimash Kudaibergenov (Дінмұхаммед Құдайберген) in 2021. The original song which formed the inspiration for this poem, was about the tale of how two lovebirds are symbolised by the relationship shared by two swans who cannot live apart due to their intimate and profound love for each other.
As such, this piece by LIM KAI YI was written from the viewpoint of two individuals who were in a relationship, with the setting being post-breakup. The first, second, third, fourth, fifth, eleventh, and twelfth stanzas were written from the POV of the counterpart who had allegedly ruined the mentioned relationship because of cheating with someone else; whereas the sixth, seventh, eight, ninth, tenth, thirteenth, and fourteenth stanzas were written from the POV of the counterpart who got cheated on.
The poem in question aims to form a huge contrast to the original song by Dimash, since the original track was all about how fondly and deeply have two souls in a relationship loved each other; whereas this piece and adaptation by LIM KAI YI tells the exact opposite: being how one who cheated on their former loved one now regrets their unwise and foolish decision made formerly, while their ex refuses to accept their apology, and hence advocates for them to move on, and accept the fact that this relationship is very much over.
Thus, it is not difficult to visualise both the surface and subconscious meaning embedded within the name or title of the poem, since “Goodbye” would signify that the romantic relationship between the two personas in question is officially over; the “No, My Mistake” component of the title also hints at the fact that the one who got cheated on finally realises that their ex was indeed a waste of time after all, as in they should have never been together with someone who only functioned to waste their precious time on Earth – a literal mistake.
The poem was also meticulously crafted to be singable based on the rhyme and rhythm of the original piece, “Love of Tired Swans”; given that the syllable count is very much identical, accompanied by the fact that the rhyming is also consistent, plus how the sentence structure also goes in line with the lyrics which Dimash Kudaibergenov has originally created.
For some context, the lines in white are to be sung / recited from the POV of the first persona; whereas the lines in yellow are to be sung / recited from the second persona's POV.
Goodbye, My Love; No, My Mistake
by LIM KAI YI
Count to three, don’t give up;
Do you miss me? Do I still love you?
You were once my star; from afar,
Raised the bar, now I’m all without you
Life is hard; always was,
Fears and worries, for what to prove? But;
Move on with a grin, stand by me;
Died to live, to destroy the truth, love
Not quite that faithful but not late to be,
Look at me, there’s more to see
Near the abyss, not the stars; far from Thee,
Dear, that was our creed
Fear, hesitation, grief, anxiety,
Heresies, that’s what I’ve been
Mouthful, but shades of grey;
To God, I need to pray,
What else to do, to save the day?
My dear, let it be;
I chose wisely, you’ll find your sweetheart
We were meant to be, yes, indeed
Supposedly, not till she had torn us
You pursued; you gave in,
My true love; you hurt and forced us
We once had a stance; we were free
Let me be, let me sleep in the dark
Near mountains, screams of pain will levitate,
Resonate, never fade
Fear takes me over like a policy,
Leave my heart to bleed
Near all my dreams, but why the larceny?
Sophistry, mystery
Frosty, yet overbaked
Your voice, your love, how fake
Wish I could start this life again
Dread overwhelms, best if I died than lived;
Cut my wings, won’t you, please?
For I have loved and slain;
New voice, new fate, new day
Yes, I was wrong, but will you stay?
Thrust with your might, you may,
I’m not your toy to play,
Goodbye, my love; No, my mistake
My mistake
Poem Transcription
Count to three, don’t give up;
Do you miss me? Do I still love you?
You were once my star; from afar,
Raised the bar, now I’m all without you
Life is hard; always was,
Fears and worries, for what to prove? But;
Move on with a grin, stand by me;
Died to live, to destroy the truth, love
Not quite that faithful but not late to be,
Look at me, there’s more to see
Near the abyss, not the stars; far from Thee,
Dear, that was our creed
Fear, hesitation, grief, anxiety,
Heresies, that’s what I’ve been
Mouthful, but shades of grey;
To God, I need to pray,
What else to do, to save the day?
My dear, let it be;
I chose wisely, you’ll find your sweetheart
We were meant to be, yes, indeed
Supposedly, not till she had torn us
You pursued; you gave in,
My true love; you hurt and forced us
We once had a stance; we were free
Let me be, let me sleep in the dark
Near mountains, screams of pain will levitate,
Resonate, never fade
Fear takes me over like a policy,
Leave my heart to bleed
Near all my dreams, but why the larceny?
Sophistry, mystery
Frosty, yet overbaked
Your voice, your love, how fake
Wish I could start this life again
Dread overwhelms, best if I died than lived;
Cut my wings, won’t you, please?
For I have loved and slain;
New voice, new fate, new day
Yes, I was wrong, but will you stay?
Thrust with your might, you may,
I’m not your toy to play,
Goodbye, my love; No, my mistake
My mistake
The poem opens with the 1st persona's call to their former love, hoping to be forgiven for the atrocities which they have commited (e.g. cheating with someone else in their relationship)
The 1st persona again questions if their ex still has any affection for them; also integrating an oxymoron through the contradictory self-questioning, as in pondering over whether if the 1st persona themself actually still loves their ex.
The 1st persona attempts to reminisce over the good times when they had massive respect and affection for their ex, forming some sort of ingratiation.
The 1st persona claims that their ex had raised the expectations for them to continue their romantic relationship, which explains their inevitable break-up.
The 1st persona expresses how he finds life to be difficult both post-break-up as well as when the mentioned relationship still was in place; potentially hinting at how the two were never meant to be together due to many circumstances.
The 1st persona vents about how all of their sacrifices for the relationship were very much a waste of effort and time; as if the problem was not them but their ex.
The 1st persona again uses a paradox to state as if it is best for the two to move on post-break-up; yet they still hope for their ex to remain by their side, possibly hinting at their desire and wish to restore the relationship.
The 1st persona acknowledges the fact that they had cheated on their ex with someone else; yet still hopes for forgiveness.
The 1st persona again reinforces their admittance for cheating, and proceeds to emphasise that they still should be given a chance to redeem themself.
The 1st persona attempts to convince their ex that they have indeed changed; as in they would no longer be making the same mistake, and that they should be given a second chance.
The 1st persona tries to portray themself as an absolute sinner after having cheated, in an attempt to draw sympathy from their ex for another shot at being forgiven.
The 1st persona is seen trying desperately to remind their ex of the promise that they made, being that they were to love each other no matter what; as if stating the aforementioned would increase their chances of being forgiven.
Another attempt by the 1st persona to draw sympathy from their ex, as if saying that they have suffered enough post-break-up, and that they should fall in love once again to dissolve the pain.
Once again reinforcing the notion that the 1st persona has been very wrong, to get their ex to sympathise with them given that they claim to have regretted their sin; and that they have changed.
Again the 1st persona trying to sound guilty for lying, cheating etc., in exchange for their ex's forgiveness and sympathy.
The 1st persona portraying themself as a sinner to get their ex to show pity to them.
Use of self-questioning by the 1st persona to show as if they are now left without direction post-break-up; as if they have done all they could to restore the couple's broken relationship.
The 2nd persona, being the 1st persona's ex, announcing that their relationship really is over, and that they will not consider to forgive the 1st persona for cheating.
The 2nd persona reinforces the idea that it was the right decision for them to end the couple's former relationship, and they wish for the 1st persona to move on and begin another relationship with someone else instead.
The 2nd persona states that they initially thought that the two were perfect for each other when they began their relationship.
The 2nd persona explains the reason for the couple's break-up, being none other than how the 1st persona having cheated with someone else.
The 2nd persona shows disappointment towards the 1st persona's decision to cheat on them with someone else.
The 2nd persona stresses on how much had the 1st persona hurt them through cheating with someone else.
The 2nd persona exercises the use of paradox through claiming that the former couple once had a crude and promise in terms of staying faithful to each other; whilst at the same time emphasising that they had the right to love freely; which sort of rationalises the 1st persona's act of cheating, even though the 2nd persona clearly detests such behaviour, possibly showcasing irony and satire through the use of paradox.
The 2nd persona reemphasises just how saddened they were by the 1st persona's act of cheating; and they advise the 1st persona to leave them alone and move one, instead of launching constant efforts to salvage their already-doomed relationship.
The 2nd persona showcases the devastation and pain they went through after having been cheated on by the 1st persona.
The 2nd persona claims that the 1st persona had hurt them so deeply, that they will never be able to forget the damage done.
The 2nd persona demonstrates just how restless and scared had they been after finding out that the 1st persona had cheated; again highlighting the degree of damage that the act of cheating had brought upon to the relationship.
The 2nd persona refers to the 1st persona's act of cheating as one which hurt them so bad that their heart would even bleed.
The 2nd persona states that they originally had high hopes for the mentioned relationship; but had never anticipated the act of cheating by the 1st persona, hence deeming it as a literal piece of theft within the relationship, robbing the couple of all the potential joy and happiness which they could have had.
The 2nd persona describes the 1st persona's act of cheating as literal deception, as in they were very unhappy with the fact that the 1st persona had been in an another relationship without the knowledge of the 2nd persona themself.
The 2nd persona metaphorically refers to the 1st persona's love for them as rather superficial and theatrical.
The 2nd persona again lashes onto the 1st persona, stating that all of their love for the 2nd persona themself was nothing but lies.
The 2nd persona voices their utter disappointment towards the 1st persona's act of cheating; going as far as to state that they would rather restart their life and never begin this relationship at all.
The 1st persona lets out another desperate call to the their ex, being the 2nd persona, stating that they would be willing to sacrifice themself to salvage the said relationship, in an attempt to touch the heart of the 2nd persona through the use of sincerity and regret.
The 1st persona even calls out to the their ex to use them and hurt them, as reimbursement and compensation / punishment for their act of cheating with someone else.
The 1st persona admits their mistake of cheating, yet advocates that they have also truly loved their ex all along.
The 1st persona again reinforces the claim that they have completely changed; as in they would not repeat the same mistake of cheating ever again.
The 1st persona begs for forgiveness from thier ex for one final time, again admitting that they were wrong and should never have cheated, hoping to draw sympathy from their ex once more.
The 2nd persona emphaises that they no longer have regard for any attempts by the 1st persona to seek their forgiveness.
The 2nd persona throws shade at the 1st persona, using irony to state that they will no longer fall for their lies; and will no longer entrust the 1st persona with anything relationship-oriented.
This line by the 2nd persona perfectly resonates with the title of this poem, being to officially announce the end of the couple's romantic relationship, even quoting this decision to fall in love as a literal mistake, again showing just how much hatred did the 2nd persona have for the 1st persona for their act of cheating.
The 2nd persona once again reinforces the title of the poem, referring to the 1st persona as a mistake; signifying that they regret ever having fallen in love in the first place.
Poem Rhyme Showcase
Count to three, don’t give up;
"Pasmatri mne v glaza"
(Посмотри мне в глаза)
[Look into my eyes]
Do you miss me? Do I still love you?
"Tyi prosti mnie, ya sazhalieyu"
(Ты прости мне, я сожалею)
[Please forgive me, I regret]
You were once my star; from afar,
"Ya lyublyu tibia, zhizn' maya"
(Я люблю тебя, жизнь моя)
[I love you, you're my life]
Raised the bar, now I’m all without you
"Bez tepla, ya taboy balieyu"
(Без тепла, я тобой болею)
[Without your warmth, I am obsessed with you]
Life is hard; always is,
"Uderzhat' ne smagli"
(Удержать не смогли)
[We could not hold it in]
Fears and worries, for what to prove? But;
"Muy ustali, nam ochen' trudna"
(Мы устали, нам очень трудно)
[We are tired, it's difficult for us]
Move on with a grin, stand by me;
"Ya savsem adin, tyi paimi"
(Я совсем один, ты пойми)
[I'm all alone, please understand me]
Died to live, to destroy the truth, love
"Bez lyubvyi nichiego nie nuzhna"
(Без любви ничего не нужно)
[Nothing matters without love]
Not quite that faithful but not late to be,
"Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi"
(Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди)
[Swans can't live apart]
Look at me, there’s more to see
"Padazhdi, nie speshi"
(Подожди, не спеши)
[Wait, don't rush]
Near the abyss, not the stars; far from Thee,
"Nie gavari, chto chuvstva pazadi"
(Не говори, что чувства позади)
[Do not say that feelings are gone]
Dear, that was our creed
"Niet nazad puti"
(Нет назад пути)
[There is no way back]
Fear, hesitation, grief, anxiety,
"Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi"
(Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди)
[Swans can't live apart]
Heresies, that’s what I’ve been
"Padazhdi, nie speshi"
(Подожди, не спеши)
[Wait, don't rush]
Mouthful, but shades of grey;
"V razliukie bol' sil'ney"
(В разлуке боль сильней,)
[In separation the pain is harsher]
To God, I need to pray,
"Lyubov' mayu sagriey"
(любовь мою согрей)
[Please warm my love]
What else to do, to save the day?
"Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiedei"
(Любовь уставших лебедей)
[The love of tired swans]
My dear, let it be;
"Mai dni bez dushi"
(Мои дни без души)
[My days, without soul]
I chose wisely, you’ll find your sweetheart
"Ya skuchayu, vsio ochen' slozhna"
(Я скучаю, всё очень сложно)
[I miss you, it's all complicated]
We were meant to be, yes, indeed
"Muy eshe blizki, nie molchi"
(Мы еще близки, не молчи)
[We are still close, please say something]
Supposedly, not till she had torn us
"Pazavi, bez lyubvi mnie bol'na"
(Позови, без любви мне больно)
[Call me, without your love it hurts]
You pursued; you gave in,
"Ya prashu, ustupi"
(Я прошу, уступи)
[I ask you, please give in]
My true love; you hurt and forced us
"Mai chuvstva - nie maya proza"
(Мои чувства — немая проза)
[My feelings are not my prose]
We once had a stance; we were free
"Inagda va snie prikhadi"
(Иногда во сне приходи)
[Sometimes come to my dreams]
Let me be, let me sleep in the dark
"Zaberi, nie ishi drugoga"
(Забери, не ищи другого)
[Take me in, do not look for another]
Near mountains, screams of pain will levitate,
"Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi"
(Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди)
[Swans can't live apart]
Resonate, never fade
"Padazhdi, nie speshi"
(Подожди, не спеши)
[Wait, don't rush]
Fear takes me over like a policy,
"Nie gavari, chto chuvstva pazadi"
(Не говори, что чувства позади)
[Do not say that feelings are gone]
Leave my heart to bleed
"Niet nazad puti"
(Нет назад пути)
[There is no way back]
Near all my dreams, but why the larceny?
"Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi"
(Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди)
[Swans can't live apart]
Sophistry, mystery
"Padazhdi, nie speshi"
(Подожди, не спеши)
[Wait, don't rush]
Frosty, yet overbaked
"V razliukie bol' sil'niey"
(В разлуке боль сильней,)
[In separation the pain is harsher]
Your voice, your love, how fake
"Lyubov' mayu sagrey"
(любовь мою согрей)
[Please warm my love]
Wish I could start this life again
"Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiediei"
(Любовь уставших лебедей)
[The love of tired swans]
Dread overwhelms, best if I died than lived;
"Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi"
(Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди)
[Swans can't live apart]
Cut my wings, won’t you, please?
"Padazhdi, nie speshi"
(Подожди, не спеши)
[Wait, don't rush]
For I have loved and slain;
"V razliukie bol' sil'niey"
(В разлуке боль сильней,)
[In separation the pain is harsher]
New voice, new fate, new day
"Lyubov' mayu sagriey"
(любовь мою согрей)
[Please warm my love]
Yes, I was wrong, but will you stay?
"Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiediei"
(Любовь уставших лебедей)
[The love of tired swans]
Thrust with your might, you may,
"V razliukie bol' sil'niey"
(В разлуке боль сильней,)
[In separation the pain is harsher]
I’m not your toy to play,
"Lyubov' mayu sagriey"
(любовь мою согрей)
[Please warm my love]
Goodbye, my love; No, my mistake
"Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiediei"
(Любовь уставших лебедей)
[The love of tired swans]
My mistake
"Lebiediei"
(Лебедей)
[Swans]
Side-by-Side Comparison between "Love of Tired Swans" / "Любовь уставших лебедей" by Dimash Kudaibergenov
& "Goodbye, my Love; No, my Mistake" by LIM KAI YI
Count to three, don’t give up;
Do you miss me? Do I still love you?
You were once my star; from afar,
Raised the bar,
now I’m all without you
Life is hard; always was,
Fears and worries, for what to prove?
But;
Move on with a grin, stand by me;
Died to live, to destroy the truth,
love
Not quite that faithful
but not late to be,
Look at me, there’s more to see
Near the abyss, not the stars;
far from Thee,
Dear, that was our creed
Fear, hesitation, grief, anxiety,
Heresies, that’s what I’ve been
Mouthful, but shades of grey;
To God, I need to pray,
What else to do, to save the day?
My dear, let it be;
I chose wisely,
you’ll find your sweetheart
We were meant to be, yes, indeed
Supposedly, not till she had torn us
You pursued; you gave in,
My true love; you hurt
and forced us
We once had a stance; we were free
Let me be, let me sleep in the dark
Near mountains,
screams of pain will levitate,
Resonate, never fade
Fear takes me over like a policy,
Leave my heart to bleed
Near all my dreams,
but why the larceny?
Sophistry, mystery
Frosty, yet overbaked
Your voice, your love, how fake
Wish I could start this life again
Dread overwhelms,
best if I died than lived;
Cut my wings, won’t you, please?
For I have loved and slain;
New voice, new fate, new day
Yes, I was wrong, but will you stay?
Thrust with your might, you may,
I’m not your toy to play,
Goodbye, my love; No, my mistake
My mistake
Pasmatri mne v glaza
Tyi prosti mnie, ya sazhalieyu
Ya lyublyu tibia, zhizn' maya
Bez tepla, ya taboy balieyu
Uderzhat' ne smagli
Muy ustali, nam ochen' trudna
Ya savsem adin, tyi paimi
Bez lyubvyi nichiego nie nuzhna
Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi
Padazhdi, nie speshi
Nie gavari, chto chuvstva pazadi
Niet nazad puti
Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi
Padazhdi, nie speshi
V razliukie bol' sil'ney
Lyubov' mayu sagriey
Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiedei
Mai dni bez dushi
Ya skuchayu, vsio ochen' slozhna
Muy eshe blizki, nie molchi
Pazavi, bez lyubvi mnie bol'na
Ya prashu, ustupi
Mai chuvstva - nie maya proza
Inagda va snie prikhadi
Zaberi, nie ishi drugoga
Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi
Padazhdi, nie speshi
Nie gavari, chto chuvstva pazadi
Niet nazad puti
Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi
Padazhdi, nie speshi
V razliukie bol' sil'niey
Lyubov' mayu sagrey
Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiediei
Nie mogut zhit' v razliukie liebiedi
Padazhdi, nie speshi
V razliukie bol' sil'niey
Lyubov' mayu sagriey
Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiediei
V razliukie bol' sil'niey
Lyubov' mayu sagriey
Lyubov' ustavshikh liebiediei
Lebiediei
Посмотри мне в глаза
Ты прости мне, я сожалею
Я люблю тебя, жизнь моя
Без тепла я тобой болею
Удержать не смогли
Мы устали, нам очень трудно
Я совсем один, ты пойми
Без любви ничего не нужно
Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди
Подожди, не спеши
Не говори, что чувства позади
Нет назад пути
Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди
Подожди, не спеши
В разлуке боль сильней
Любовь мою согрей
Любовь уставших лебедей
Мои дни без души
Я скучаю, всё очень сложно
Мы ещё близки, не молчи
Позови, без любви мне больно
Я прошу, уступи
Мои чувства — немая проза
Иногда во сне приходи
Забери, не ищи другого
Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди
Подожди, не спеши
Не говори, что чувства позади
Нет назад пути
Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди
Подожди, не спеши
В разлуке боль сильней
Любовь мою согрей
Любовь уставших лебедей
Не могут жить в разлуке лебеди
Подожди, не спеши
В разлуке боль сильней
Любовь мою согрей
Любовь уставших лебедей
В разлуке боль сильней
Любовь мою согрей
Любовь уставших лебедей
Лебедей
Look into my eyes
Please forgive me, I regret
I love you, you're my life
Without your warmth,
I am obsessed with you
We could not hold it in
We are tired,
It's difficult for us
I'm all alone,
please understand me
Nothing matters without love
Swans can't live apart
Wait, don't rush
Do not say that
feelings are gone
There is no way back
Swans can't live apart
Wait, don't rush
In separation
The pain is harsher
Please warm my love
The love of tired swans
My days, without soul
I miss you,
It's all complicated
But we are still close,
Please say something
Call me,
Without your love it hurts
I ask you, please give in
My feelings are not my prose
Sometimes
Come to my dreams
Take me in,
Do not look for another
Swans can't live apart
Wait, don't rush
Do not say that
Feelings are gone
There is no way back
Swans can't live apart
Wait, don't rush
In separation
The pain is harsher
Please warm my love
The love of tired swans
Swans can't live apart
Wait, don't rush
In separation
The pain is harsher
Please warm my love
The love of tired swans
Swans
Love of Tired Swans
Любовь уставших лебедей
Lyubov' Ustavshikh Liebiediei
Goodbye, my Love; No, my Mistake