Details |
Jess Ica Poem
Love is like the sun,
Is this saying true?
Then crushes are like the moon,
This I believe do you?
I blushed at your every movement,
To be honest I stalked.
Reminiscing every little moment,
Shared in every little place.
Your long legs I do admire,
Eyes as fine as wine.
Lips as pink as roses,
Fingers long and slender.
Sometimes in my dreams you appear,
Other times in nightmares you come.
But thoughts of you light me up,
Full of bliss I become.
To you I'm shy to talk.
Over you do I swoon.
Sometimes forgetting how to walk,
Making myself a complete fool.
I daydream of you,
In our own love paradise,
Laying in your embrace,
Being showered with gentle caresses.
My girlfriends tell me its not love,
That it is childish infatuation.
But I call them liars,
And always walk away.
I sing songs with your name,
In my head obviously,
Even formed a ship name,
JESTER to represent our love.
But sometimes I get caught up,
That I often forget ,
That this is one sided,
That you don't even know I exist.
I hope you notice me one day,
I pray my first kiss is you.
And my heart will finally be calm
And my mind as clear as day.
Copyright © Jess Ica | Year Posted 2023
|
Details |
Jess Ica Poem
Water equals life.
My greatest fear is drowning.
But, in it I breathe.
Copyright © Jess Ica | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Jess Ica Poem
For this clerihew, I'll write about Ron
With flaming red hair, he's a sure Weasley spawn
True and loyal friend, a noble fighter
But pay heed to hamartia, his fear of spiders!
He features in J.K.Howling's Harry Potter
Copyright © Jess Ica | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Jess Ica Poem
Happiness is like waking up to see
my favourite dishes for breakfast;
toasted bread and fried eggs.
Getting to school early and scoring As on all my tests.
Then I come home after a long stressful day at school.
Taking a bath and settling down to watch my favourite TV show;
just to see... it has been taken off air.
The sadness swallow me whole could have been mistaken for despair.
Over the long weekend, it is anger that fills me up,
when I see my younger siblings trooping into the room I had just mopped.
Littering every free surface with their toys.
Oh! The grief that came when I heard we lost my grandfather.
"Grandpa, we aren't done with our paintings,
you haven't taught me how to perfectly contour the nose!
You are yet to tell the stories of your younger days!"
Adieu grandfather, you will be missed.
I sit under the mango tree located in our front yard.
I remember the days my friends and I spent playing under this tree as children
Back then our hearts were free of worries and full of laughter.
Oh mango tree, you are the very representative of nostalgia.
At night when I lay in my bed to sleep,
I become afraid, my mind makes the clothe
hanger on the wardrobe look like some kind of monster.
I dive under the covers to hide my fear.
It's the Award-giving ceremony at the end of the term.
Everyone is seated to hear who would be given the title of 'The Best Student'.
My right leg can't stop bouncing with anticipation.
My teeth are clattering.
I am filled with anxiety.
And then I hear my name being called.
That pure feeling of ecstasy is joy.
Copyright © Jess Ica | Year Posted 2025
|
Details |
Jess Ica Poem
The hunter's child was known to be curious.
Almost everyday you could hear his mother say,
"My dear boy, curiosity killed the cat"
He never took her words to heart.
What he saw as his greatest flair was soon to be his fatal flaw.
On a sunny afternoon, he took a walk into the forest.
On and on he went,following a certain trail.
His father's words rang in his ears,
'Never stray from the path'.
He came across a tiny bundle underneath a foot stump.
A newly born cub lay wrapped around with leaves.
To his left and to his right, its mother was not
So he picked the cub up and took it home.
Oh his mother screamed.
His father groaned.
His friends looked at him in awe.
"You are a big hero!"
"I wish to be as brave as you"
His father's took him aside one evening,
"My dear son, what do you wish to do with it?"
"Father, I named it Cubby!
We shall be best friends till the end of days. "
"My boy, it is not a puppy, when cubs grow and become lions, they do not bow to anyone."
"I shall succeed papa! Succeed i shall!"
And so the cub grew under the care of our curious boy.
Bigger and stronger because it's best friend fed him well.
All the kids in the village admired him.
All the adults were proud of him.
But one day ,the hunter and his wife had gone to church.
On their return they saw their boy laying in his own pool of blood.
The young lion was nowhere to be found.
His mother wailed, "It has killed my boy!
That gnarly beast has killed my boy!!"
His father bundled him up and took him to the village healer.
A week later, the young boy woke up.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
"It is a miracle you survived boy."
The village healer scolded.
But the boy was distraught and cried,
"I failed papa, I could not train the cub."
His father's smiled, and holding him close to his heart he said,
"My dearest boy, it is not failure if you live to fight another day"
Copyright © Jess Ica | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Jess Ica Poem
There I am
Always the odd one never the same.
Always isolated never surrounded.
I exist on my own with no friend, with no foe.
Some think it's unruly, no I'm just filled with woe.
On a bad bad day, I cry on my own shoulder.
On a good good day , I laugh at my own joke.
One hen calls out, "Come join us to gossip ",
Another whispers low, "Eww, she's quite the opposite"
I guess that's true, how much I'm a recluse.
Even the others wonder if I'm of any use.
Oh but how I long for a time when I can share my own stories.
Have people for dinner, to share banters and glories.
To walk to the market together, to share a good tale,
To spend time at the port, to watch a ship set sail.
But for now I'm a hermit, I exist in my own self.
Maybe one day I'd change 'self' to 'selves'
Copyright © Jess Ica | Year Posted 2026
|