It's The Little Things I Can't Remember

by E. Hellcat

Live the life you never regret

Don’t waste another day

Doing nothing meaningful

That it becomes a habit

To think nothing stressful.

Wake up with passion

Live the delusion of having a vision

About the days that would come

You assume would actually matter

That in the end you’ll hold on and eventually remember.

But now looking back in retrospect

It’s not always about what’s next.

Every time you walk out that door

Pass the park and through the alley,

Just as you would do daily.

Mindlessly and thoughtlessly

Making small decisions everyday

Little judgments every move

Without blinking an eye

Without seeing through the lines

Without having the thought

To ever cross in your mind

Why everybody say it to end their toast,

“It’s the little things that matter the most.”

The Super Scam

By Asjad Zulkefli




Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
No, it's another scam,
forged by the super factory
located in the super country.

They say that heroes must be pretty,
That's why the ugly can never be.
but have you seen heroes in reality?
Like Malcolm, Madiba, Gandhi and your daddy?

Another scam,
another scam,
does whatever the others can,
catches crooks whom they like,
yet the filthiest still alive,
look out!
Here comes another scam.

Are we all too blind to see?
That superheroes are the shields,
for police, politicians and the authority,
you must obey, you must yield,
or another villain you will be.

Thought's Sanctuary

By Mr.B




Gone, forever gone,
One and only Love,
Detachment,

Highest pleasure,
Eternal knowledge,
lost without grace,
Pain without cure,

Miracle
Eternally gone.

Not from Heaven

By Mr.B

How to know God?

By His trace and grace,

Provides tales we embrace,

But when her face meet your face

is it still God's Grace?

Demanded servants, 

Yet love sometimes are forbidden,

As Women created as a maiden,

How really men can be obedient?

Those promise He gives,

None could guess what it is,

For God is perfect,

So does men try to be exact.

Find God through His grace,

You will never be erased.

Blinded by My Own Eyes

By S. Pessimist

Deceitful is such the nature a pair of eyes.

The widest smile may hold the heaviest heart.

The loudest and carefree may drag around the darkest thoughts.

The well built and strong may shake at the slightest.

The richest may dress in destitute,

and the deemed necessitous, may well be in contentment.

Judge not, for who am I to judge?

Chasing Dreams

by Abraham Slothface




The safest place for a ship is at harbor

but that's not where ships should be,

I've always wanted to begin it
with these lines, even though it's not mine-
but the one I had in mind was something different.
It's about how we should always
fight, live, and die for our dreams
even when we're already at peace with ourselves,

but this is not that poem. Not that one.

This one is to remind myself that I'm not dead yet, 

and the one before this is not the last one-
in case I'm dead before I could write another.
Make sense?
What time is it?

I don't mind

if this will be the last thing here.
Not because this will be fucking good,
which until now I know that it will only be
some shitty paragraphs that will be forgotten
seconds after you've stop reading,
and disappoint secret chasers
if you're one,
because there is none.

I'm just scared of knowing that our dreams
will always be laughing with us
and living life is just a lie we tell ourselves
before the real thing comes
and swallows everything into black.
Makes me grind my teeth till it bleeds
when I can't sleep. Wondering if this time
my eyes will stay shut forever.
Don't worry. That's not real.
I did not grind my teeth.
I just can't sleep.

And sometimes I hear myself counting days.
Maybe I'll keep doing that till I'm 40
and when I realized that it's always
an impossible task,
I will tell myself
that it is alright to dream
even to the end.
Hope dies on daily basis.
Every tap tap on their keyboards sounds
like they are typing their last will
but what came out are reports and excel files.

Funny, now that I'm one of them.
And they sleep early so maybe this act
of lying awake
is the best thing I could do tonight

before they lock me deep.
Again my dear.
The safest place for a ship is at harbor
but that's not where a ship should be,

now lets get back to sleep baby 

shall we?

In Plain Sight

by Atrocious Hogwash

A crook! A thief! A vile! A beef!

He must be apprehended!

Point

Everyone has their scrooge,

So what if fat and loaded?

It’s gained a lot for a collective lot,

So what if they’re all blinded?

Oh boo hoo well déjà vu,

So what if shuffle landed?

But seriously

In plain sight?

Like we all couldn’t hardly see,

Like we ever believed

It was ever relief,

Oh please heebie-jeebies,

Now please, leave.

Some Shit I Can Never Commit

by E. Hellcat

What's the point

Of waking up for class

And knowing you'll never last.

What’s the point

Of skimming through textbooks

And knowing you’re just another crook.

What’s the point

Of staying up all night

And knowing you’re doing it with spite.

What’s the point

Of acing all the exams

And knowing it’s all just a government scam.

Because deep inside I know,

That these are some shit I can never commit.

Truth About Lies

by Shauqi Shiro

People nowadays are not truthful,
They make deviation out of god's creation.
They tend to forget their purpose, trying to impress with different poses.
Lies become their truth, while truth has lost all its tooth.
Now truth is an empty shell, while lies stand on the front door ringing on the bell.
This is not right! There is no truth left!

People nowadays are not truthful.
They show half-truths; showing only what people want with a glass half full.
Its like an unfinished tale, told only to please.
While the old ones barely trying to appease.
A world where the end justifies the means.
It corrupts the minds of teens.

People nowadays should be truthful.
Life is trouble just like riding an angry bull.
It can turn like the past, if this lies becomes it's last.
But this generation prefers to live life a blast.
Lets change this mentality where people only tell about reality.
All people need to have fealty on the authenticity.

Truthful is how people should be, or we'll be damned for eternity.

Love

by Mr B

We say I love you,

It is hard to be true,
For none of us have the clue,
Yet love is what we all do.

It is easy to pronounce,
Because sometimes it can be a noun,
But, for those who has fallen down,
You know how deep you can drown.

All of us know the danger,
Sometimes it will lead to anger,
It starts only with a stranger,
Then come the whole pack of ranger.

Love is made by You,
For those who have cue,
It is a long way to get through,
Just hop on  and wish not to confuse.

Love I wish we get through

Dotting the i’s and Crossing the t’s (Part Two)

by Asjad Zulkefli

Why?

Why can’t i be with t?

Together in the same family.

Why should we separate them entirely?

If that would cause tragedy.

Why?

Why can’t i be with t?

Forming a jubilant harmony.

Isn’t that hypocrisy?

To defy the spirit of equality.

No,

i and t are not the problems

just because of their difference.

The crisis lies in their emblems

with race and blood as significance.

Innate,

They were born with it,

segregated

and segregation

are their main comprehension

of different complexions,

hence the explanation

for the contrasting divisions

of vowels and consonants.

Negligent,

only the tip of the iceberg

we have learned,

In the city of Johannesburg

it all happened,

with money and work

it’s often forgotten,

that we are going berserk

as fairness is dampened,

where i and t lurk

for no more discrimination.

Why?

Why can’t i be with t?

Together in the same sorority.

Why should we part them entirely?

If they have the same quality.

Why?

Why can’t i be with t?

Living together in unity.

Isn’t that duplicity?

To deny their rights of being free.

No,

nothing to do with being silly,

just a sign of insincerity,

if i can be with t,

wouldn’t that make everyone happy?

For You, yes You.

by Timber Tim





The stars align
perfect tonight,
Please do not keep me
out of your sight.
Since the day I set eyes
on that beauty,
I never thought
you could be that worthy.

Myriads of angels
looking down upon you,
So that they could spread
the loving hue.
My dear
you are the only one,
And I could never imagine
if you're gone.

You make this beating heart
beat faster,
Even when you’re not even near,
So please
hold on tight my dear,
Cause we’re in this
roller-coaster ride together.

Schoolboy

by Abraham Slothface 

A hole on the floor
in the middle of his bedroom.
He keeps on falling into it
every time he got up from his bed
and he can't go to school.

He spent years to fix it up himself, knowing that               

his dad can't afford the repair,

but every time he tried the hole gets deeper,

and deeper, and deeper,

and his mum keeps calling him

for lunch when he's at work.

He tried to fill it up with tears, and he can't,

everyone knows that he can't,

but he never asked for his mum's and dad's.

He figured out to think of all the time he failed them,

and after that every time he wake up

he fell into a salty pool, and blamed his parents

for never having enough for him

to take swimming lessons.

Until one day, the Devil himself

came dripping out of the hole and ask him

"Do you wanna trade your soul 

for swimming lessons?"

"No,

I wanna give my soul for a new home, a new room

with no hole in the middle of it. 

I'm sick and tired of falling into it every time

I wake up and I can't go to school!" 

"Well, that's easy.

In fact you'll not just get a new home

and a new room with perfect floor,

you'll get a new set of parents too!

A new mum and dad for free!"

During dinner

he look into his father's tired eyes,

and his mother's dull face,

and wonders if he could ever

replace them.

Yesterday, he's awake at midnight

and finally his foot hit the floor again.

He bent his fingers and it breaks,

and he smiled, and he thought of how tomorrow

he could wake up and go to school to read,

write and learn. And play with his friends until dark.

Then he could do it all again and again.

Again and again.

Again and again.

Again and again. 

Day by day

until he's old enough

to do things that a man would do,

to do things that fathers would do.

Things that makes mother's life worth the vow.

And he went back to sleep. Having it all planned well

for tomorrow, and tomorrow and tomorrow.

When he opened his eyes in the morning

he raised his fist to the ceiling

and jumped out of his bed,

straight into the hole on the floor

in the middle of his bedroom.

Paltry Pay

by Atrocious Hogwash

Aaron always had an affinity for the finer stuff. After finishing school and waiting for his SPM results, he had applied to work at a luxury boutique. It was a boutique that would sell 150 ringgit for a crummy t-shirt and people would still consider it worthwhile. The place was called Massimmo Dutti and even in name the boutique struck into inner wallets of most people. Being posh, the pay amounted up to six ringgit an hour for a part-timer, which by Aaron’s count, should net him around 1240 ringgit per month. It was more money than Aaron has ever had in life.

Nonetheless, money was never the only motivation for Aaron to go to work. Working in a boutique itself provides its own set of attractions. The shop, appearing very classy in its semblance and the jazzy ambience, afforded the most delightful merchandise Aaron has ever laid eyes upon. The shirts coupled with the suits will outright make you look dapper and would fit you in any fancy ball or dinner. If you prefer a more casual look, the shop also sports items such as leather jackets and snazzy bermudas to let you stand out without even trying. Working as a retail assistant meant working directly with the merchandise which was to Aaron's joy and delight.

Yet, the cream of the crop would have to be the shoes. Not only are they marvelously elegant and smart, placing your foot in one is like taking a walk in the clouds. The tags on the shoes read ‘Destined for The Feet of Men’ and Aaron could not agree more. He had his eye on one of the shoes, a classic loafer that proved ever so popular among the rich. Aaron had the chance to put it on whilst at the storeroom. He grabbed it and slid it onto his foot and so the heavens descended. He had never walked so comfortably before in his life. One look at the price tag and it showed the astronomical price ‘RM 1200’, almost all of his salary, but he was determined to own a pair.

It was the nearing the final days of the first month in his job, and boy, was he excited to run over to the nearest ATM to check those balances. He could already picture those loafers on his feet as he ambled gleefully with every step. Nevertheless, As soon as he managed to access an ATM, there he was, pensive. To his surprise, the screen only displayed fourteen ringgit and seventeen cents, the same amount of money he has had ever since. His manager mentioned that the salary had been deposited today but Aaron’s was clearly not. Where was his pay?

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The days after were the weekends, terrible days to work. Aaron never thought he had to work on the weekends. Working 5 days a week was the plan, but unmindful to Aaron, those 5 days could be any day of the week. Ironically, it was obviously the weekends where Aaron was needed the most. But working on weekends was still tolerable, working unpaid was something else. Aaron had mulled over the injustice he had suffered. He opted not to confront the manager just yet because he hated confrontations and he thought it was still too premature to cause a commotion, even if it is badly needed. Maybe a few more days of slave labor will justify his cause even more.

Nevertheless, he could not stop ruminating over his current state. What did he do to suffer such injustice? He caught glimpses of his workmates and they were all smiles. He hated them because of it. Aaron knew obviously that they were part of this oppression. "Bully the new guy" resonated in all of their smiles. He could not believe he had to deal with people such as these.

At one time, he managed to escape for a prayer break. During the prayer, a revelation came upon him that maybe his employers were holding back his wages because he was here, right now, praying. Did they have anything against devout Muslims? He remembered reading on Facebook about companies that discriminate tudung-clad girls from their workforce. Could this be what Facebook was talking about? Discrimination against Muslims? At the end of the prayer, he asked God to relieve him of this calamity and injustice. He hoped for the best in this endeavor.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

        The weekends plodded over as Aaron slogged his way through. Then came Monday, and it was the day that Aaron will make his thoughts clear. He had prepared himself for this and was ready to declare an ultimatum or even tender his resignation immediately if he had to. The injustice must stop here! Thus, he marched up to his manager with a disgruntled face.

“Where the hell is my pay?” Aaron screamed, echoing the whole shop.

The manager was stupefied. The small little Aaron made a spectacle quite unlike anything he has ever seen in his 8 years of working in the clothing line.

 The manager was a gentle man. Screamed into shock by an angry teenager, he stuttered with his response,

“I… deposited the money last… last… Friday,” He stammered.

“It takes… three working days… to clear… so it… shh… should be in… by next Wednesday,”

Aaron was quite astounded that he could scare the wits out of the manager, a full grown man, but he was more perplexed with the "three working days" thingamajig. How do you expect a young man like himself to ever know about the three day clearance system? They should have explained to him sooner! Now he is all embarrassed about it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Not long after the incident, Aaron resigned from his post at Massimo Dutti. People would say he resigned because he was mortified by the incident, but no, that was not it. Firstly, it was not his fault to begin with. Had they told him sooner about the whole procedure, the incident would not have happened at all. However, more importantly, after the ridiculous three working days have passed, he checked his accounts straight away, and the manager had it right, his pay was already in alright, but it was a paltry 800 ringgit, a far cry from the 1240 ringgit he had estimated. 

It turns out, there were days when Aaron came late that subtracted his hourly pay and he also forgot about the Employee Provident Fund (EPF) that would deduct a percentage of his salary for his retirement. His retirement! How old do they think he is? Eighty? He is eighteen and could do with the money they stole from him! Aaron had enough. He felt that 800 ringgit was not worth his youth, especially in the clothing line, and thus decided to quit. That will show them.

With a few months left before college intakes were announced, Aaron had a lot of gaming to catch up on. He turned on his Playstation 4, and sat on the floor in front of his LCD television. But behind him, right under his bed, lay something suspicious. Upon closer look, it seemed brown and made of supple leather. It hid well beneath the pile of clothes under the bed, concealed from the world. As said, Aaron always had an affinity for the finer stuff.

THE END

Dotting the i's and Crossing the t's (Part One)

by Asjad Zulkefli

Oh i,
I've been wondering,
What if you don't have a dot
on top of your skinny body?
Would that makes you
a less of an i?

Oh t,
You intrigues me too,
What are you without the line
crossing your slender body?
Would that makes you
a less of a t?

Oh i,
May i know
who dictated that
you should look that way
or else you'd be
a little less gay?

Oh t,
Please tell me
who suggested that
by looking like that
you'll be accepted
to join the frat?

Sorry i,
They say that
this is correct,
Beauty is
no longer abstract,
Look like this
or they'll reject.

Sorry t,
What you see
is the ideal,
Beauty is
no longer territorial,
You'll be dissed
with a vertical.

Look Ahead

by E. Hellcat

This is not happening,

This shouldn’t be.

It’s not like it’s my first time

I’ve done this a million times.

Oh what is this feeling

To be at the end of my own mocking

To hear my hands trembling

As my heart becomes heavy

As my vision turns blurry

Along with hopes and dreams and faith and trust

Just as I’m about to burst.

No I never saw it coming,

When I woke up this morning

Only looking to survive till evening

And no interest in believing

That today wouldn’t be just another day of living.

But now I’ve crashed,

To the walls of warnings I used to bash.

Just to prove a point I will now lash

Although this may sound like it doesn’t jive,

That this is a reminder not to text and drive.

Stonesbury's Six- Yesterday We Said Tomorrow

1st Edition (March-June 2015)
by Abraham Slothface

When I started writing on 2013 it was a very lonely process. I spent hours on my bed with my laptop flat on my chest in the dark depth of my room, thinking of new ideas and shit to entertain my nonexistent readers. And also discussions with my nonexistent fellow writers was always intense, due to the fact that they are not actually there, and trying their best to run away every time. Just me, the night, and a laptop that sounds like a jet engine waiting to blow up in the dark.

Now I have nine writers with me, and hopefully more in the future. Promotions and publicity are actively happening in Twitter, Instagram and Facebook attracting more and more readers to know more about us. Never have I been so exited looking at tiny graph before, but the increase of readers coming to the blog and the positive feedback we received really makes me feels like "Wow I should've started this thing earlier," but anyway here we are.

Thanks to everyone Stonesbury is now officially alive and breathing bubbles, waiting to crash the surface and yeah, our baby is picking up its pace very quickly this few weeks. And he looks so freaking good in black and white after the new plastic surgery by one of our upcoming writer which I can't reveal his name yet. If you've heard of Stickybox you would know him for sure.

Also kudos to E. Hellcat, Timber Tim,  Atrocious Hogwash, and S. Pessimist for the new adition to our family. All are excellent writer/poet, with different style and charm on their own. Be sure not to fall for them because they might just break your heart (cewahh!!). We are expecting more works from them in the form of short stories and explore their diverse skills in the art of writing. Hogwash's short story was once published in IIUM Clairvoyance and we hope that we could publish it here soon. Muhd Muaz's and Shauqi Shiro's internet novel series also gonna be very big, so keep coming back to Stonesbury for more updates! Also shoutout to Zicko Adanan for his furious publicity on Instagram and to Shakesbo for the dope poems of all kinds. These are the men that gave birth to Stonesbury. Now lets imagine that in our head for few seconds, how we gave birth.

Stonesbury's Six is gonna be happening after a writer have completed a collection of six works (prose and poetry) and we're gonna be discussing our works in general. This is gonna be a magazine-like review with a bit of wild ranting, just like this one, aimed to generate discussions and second thoughts on our previously published works, clarifying extra details and such. Hope there's not much spoiler here for you guys to enjoy the six. For this first edition of Stonesbury Six, I'm gonna be talking about my 3 poems and 3 stories in the order of the publication dates and hope this would clarify few things on them and leave you enlightened.

4th Wall? Never Heard of It is a love letter to Asimov and his freaking amazing sci-fi short stories. His science fiction never fail to make me think of how having everything empirical can always cloud our mind from all that is unseen from the human eyes. My aim is to push the boundaries of human comprehension of whats possible and what is not, and how the world is sometimes just a set for some of us who could see beyond the fourth wall.

My first poem on Stonesbury, Empty Glass is one of my most beloved work until today. It captures the moment when a writer is unable to write anything while cursing himself, the night and the muses for the lack of inspirations. I always read it when I don't have anything to write, and most of the times I went back to sleep. Sometimes I am a grateful servant. Heh.

The Adventure of Inspector Wahab. I freaking love this short story for everything in it. Cyber bullying, revenge, conspiracy and murder, all packed into the fast-paced short story that will leave you gripping on your seats. Inspired by the movie Pulp Fiction in terms of style and structure, this short story might require you to connect the dots to find out what is really happening in the story. Or just sit back and let Inspector Wahab solve the mystery of dead schoolgirl for you, before he sells his lands in Kedah and retires for good.

Baseball Bat and Deadman's Denial are both new poems compared to Empty Glass, and I would say my voice as a poet is more refined as I write more and more, but I do realize that I'm slowly losing my creative side when it comes to poetry. Maybe I'm getting more rigid in terms of idea nowadays and unable to engage with the side of me which is more experimental. Nonetheless both poems are quite abstract and open for any interpretations. Baseball Bat is pure manifestation of anger and wrath towards everything that is wrong in life, and I love to hear how different readers find different things after reading it. Deadman's Denial was supposed to be some sort of posthumous love poem, but me being me, it's hard not to rip out baby's guts at the end of a poem heheh.

Sini Bukan Amerika not actually a love story. At first I was conflicted on whether I should really write this one in Bahasa, but due to some of the elements in the story that can't be executed using English I made up my mind and there you have it. As I said before it is not actually a love story and this is not America! And credit to Muhd Muaz for the Fixi-esque editing because my Bahasa sucks. No kidding.

Well that's all from me for the first edition of Stonesbury's Six. Hope you guys are enjoying Stonesbury as your favourite place to read and don't forget to follow us of Instagram, Facbook and Twitter and watch out for new works and hopefully another editions of Stonesbury's Six by other writers. Keep supporting us and don't forget that your feedback is precious to us like the ring to Gollum.

I'm Abraham Slothface and this is the Stonesbury's Six.

Apa Benda Do Semua Ni?

by Shakesbo




Apa benda do semua ni. Apa benda?

We did not ask to be this way,
Being measured by the way we look,
After all of the time that had been decayed,
Watch and observe the hearts that have been shook,

Apa benda do semua ni. Apa benda?

They say that old people are always right that they're always in might,
What they say what they claim cannot be blamed,
What if they're wrong what if a single thought could cause fright,
Surely things wouldn't be perfect as a picture frame,

Apa benda do semua ni. Apa benda?

Old may be gold but sometimes old can be sold,
Can it be measured by how many seconds you are alive,
Or is it measured by how many times you lied,
Fuck it we need to begone ourselves from this godforsaken mould,

Apa benda do semua ni. Apa benda?

Lemme raise two middle fingers to all the wrong people,
No matter what race what religion what age,
Indeed everyone have their own way of sinning,
But each and everyone of us has the same way of repenting.

What is this. What is this shit?

It's been a burden.

by Timber Tim



It's been a burden to myself,
to see those who do not have
any food on their shelves,

It's been a burden to myself,
to accept the fact of the people
who do not have anything left.

It's been a burden to myself,
to believe those who talk
without any sense of reason in themselves.

It's been a burden to myself,
to see the people in power
do not give a damn about anything else.

It's only just the beginning,
of a world
with no humanity in it.

Concentrate

by Atrocious Hogwash

Thus we begin,

Great,

The inaugural seven,

Instinctive as can be,

It was the first, as the first of many others,

Observed almost perpetually.

Then comes the unison,

With a few juvenile off-keys,

Leading away to delivery of epiphany,

Be it long, be it brief,

Mostly long with a mind as deep,

Inadequate mimicry ensued,

Then resignation over dim, or non-existent, recollection,

With time in hand, upright monolithic,

Like the Terracotta of old,

Pondering whether a poem be told,

Meandering minds, Maker forgive,

Au contraire,

Not think of, but about thee,

But how is it decreed?

Great,

Scrawled in mind, with nothing on hand,

Hands are locked in procedural motion.

Praise is only for you,

Shall I accredit for this reverie too?

Great,

Indict me as many would,

Or inspired from whence I stood.

Great,

But can they not claim I think the same?

Or is ‘same’ staticity of the mind and thus, definite? For shame!

Great,

To reflect and ponder,

A deed to derive castigation and slander.

Great...

Thus we begin again.

Or Is It Just Me

by E. Hellcat 

So this is how it’s like

To give your own verdict on what's right

To actually feel that slap crushing that face you hold

Because all your life you’ve been taught to be bold

This stupid truth that you bow to
Is just the same shit that everyone's going through 

The same shit they tell you in an indie movie or a pop song

Yes that's what makes you feel belong

Because everyone knows it kills to be lonely

But we never learn the wisdom of being in solitary

And everyone knows that they wanna be independent

But is it wrong to live a life that craves on depending

Is this how it’s like

To go to sleep every night

To pretend like what's ahead will always be right

But know it in your heart it will never turn bright.

Just never

by S. Pessimist.

Never, never fall out of character.
Even when in doubt and fear.

When you fall off the lever,
on your knees collecting your tear,
Never, never fall out of character.

When you have the honour to steer,
being in front instead of rear,
Never, never fall out of character.

When you lose the things you hold dear,
where everything seems unclear,
Never, never fall out of character.

When you have voices in your ear,
force you to go there or stay right here,
Never, never fall out of character.

When you can praise or smear,
to either build or shear,
Never, never fall out of character.

Never, never fall out of character,
Even when in doubt and fear.