Blockbuster rose

She might just be a rose with faux mink eyelashes 

Blood red petals with everlasting sweetness 

Surprise! Surprise! She might just make a great girlfriend 

Underneath the redness is a stinging bareness. 

She’s a blockbuster rose surviving the harsh soil 

Filling fragrance under the same sky or the impossible black hole

The only thing she might not do is to make you pluck her away 

From the brown earth that turned her into a thriving rose, a persistent blockbuster. 

 

 

 

Every drop of milk is sound against sound. Every time I miss you a thought always glides and I’m reminded that Love is never linear. When I read a book, watch a film, climb the highest mountain and pause to think, I start to dream. When I dream I get so sappy so romantic so enthusiastic that many times I realize that I’ve left my sanity in a different vortex. I’ve once envisioned myself up there, there on top of the mountain, writing names to every star my eyes could reach, breathing every ounce of you along with the whistling leaves of the night, feeling so mighty whenever my skin remembers your fire. I think I could moan better than Madonna by just staring at your eyes. My ears are for love they hear your silly and naughty outburst and I just couldn’t help but give it another moan… 

You and I together, let’s be vulnerable to turn the shadows into one single silhouette as we recline. 

 

Introspection

I have been told that of the gods and goddesses 

I have been warned of their wrath 

I have been spoken to

by many 

But I cared less of what was told- a history 

But here now I ask you 

If you are prepared to die abandoned or if you’ve seen some sing in despair

and yet continue to blow the ashes this life has given knowing

the consequences of unreturned passion that sifts within 

Once, in that embrace, I was convinced that 

No matter, we all have to suffer-

to go through what we ought to and surrender most of our physical value in order to lay the carpet for whichever path the sun chooses to illuminate 

Or would you let it?

I want to know if you’re ready to sweep the floor from unwanted sadness 

Ready to excuse yourself from immense boredom 

To help you grow, to lead you on

to have so much compassion towards the pain of others and to the pain you made for yourself 

I’m interested to know if you’re interested to live, day by day,

In this world that never lacks commodity 

What was turned to oblivion then now becomes a necessity 

I’d like to know if you can still turn your back, to look at what was left behind now is in front of you

and say here’s where I stand, I know what’s beneath me and from here I’m marking a new path 

I’m going without turning my back.

Because even the gods and goddesses know of God.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a bonsai plant in my room

Probably not the red rose in your head

The flower we constantly give to someone –

A dear friend, beloved mom or to our short of love self

Not the yellow and white chrysanthemums in a glass vase

There is a bonsai plant in my room in front of my TV set occupying the brown shelf

It makes sense how this bonsai spins wonder more than the shows on my TV screen

How my eyes tend to look at its way subconsciously every time I move around my cabin room

It seems it’s calling me, attracting me the bonsai way

One afternoon I found myself throwing tantrums to this sublime bonsai

When suddenly I stopped.

I realized how it stood still even at the fan of air as a response of my “what the heck is going on- roaring self”

There is a bonsai plant that greets me in the morning with a steady look and a knowing grace

When I’m sour graping after a good night’s dream.

I have a fetish for bonsai plants

When I see one distant memories start a slideshow

And I remember passing by Peace Street with three grand houses in my adolescence

The orange house, the white house and the black house

Among these houses I love the white house most because

they have rubber pots with bonsai plants and every morning I see Doctor Robberts watering her plants

Some bonsai plants are shaped as fish, some a tower, some ducks

But I love the bonsai shaped as a cage most

I thought I could live there somehow

Doctor Robberts has one big pair of orange metal scissors and

Every Sunday afternoon she would snip the leaves growing out of the aluminum rings and greet other passers-by with an old smile

Her house has that autumn feel as some flower puffs, narra leaves and flowerets fall on the ground giving off an aromatic smell to lil neighbors like me

There is a bonsai plant in my room and it’s gaining prominence in my heart that sure is in bloom.