there was a time when i had to follow you like the sand stuck on my feet
They clung; obstructed or enhanced my legs ; it depends.
and at night
I sat in front of the sea; without looking at the blinding neon lights or the fueled couple kissing behind me.
I sat there opposite the sea as if making a confession.
I looked far, deep and wide.
I looked through what my eyes couldn’t see.
Today, she was asked to share her story.
She was straddling her left foot to mount the horse but the one thing she thought was easy and fun took her a day to execute.
Before she knew it, it was already dark and the other visitors had gone home.
Instinctively she went home.
The streets looked strange at night though. The road to her house became a little bit different hence, difficult to follow.
But she was bold and daring so she went on walking on what ought to be the path leading to her house, crossing on the same highway and stepping on the same concrete.
She was happiest with her ‘me time’.
But the star she followed, the street signs she held close to her, the coordinates and, the land marks she knew all became mere toys. Little toys in the city.
Her notebook filled with questions of feeling spiritually detached, taking in erroneous perceptions of everything around, trying to bridge perception and actuality.
Much like the prison waif taking the bull by the horns
Unable to.
She fell into a limbo inside the rabbit hole.
Lost.
She is an amateur
The kind that blows your head off
When she struggles to do the right thing in extreme circumstances
Whether through a stained glass window
Or through a telecine sample,
She touches lives in ways that even her is ignorant of.
Eyes that gape at you
In silence
Basking in every t-shirt you always
Wear.
Your hairy chest I’d like to hide
Not minding the time.
You smell awful that’s what they say
That I never once believed.
Wednesdays and Sundays are but a favourite
For your hair gets thrice as blacker after it’s ran by water.
Who’d think I’m crazy for you
I never met your daring eyes, never bump nose to nose, or stand on two feet inside yours
Guess there are reasons why
Everytime I ignore you
Your hard stare and dark brows
Complain
Silently with half a smile.
Was it yesterday when you wore those
Pair of faded blue jeans?
Melting my knees with your incomparable looks.
This one-sided affection and presumptive heart don’t
Want any more ploy and toy
That smile that voice that brain and air cool are
Too much for an encouragement.
Being around you is a lost love I’d like to keep
Bizarre, surreal no further than
This reality.
I mourn the days that turn green leaves to brown.
Changing one after one
Bares the heart-piercing
Hypothesis for
My mistaken identity.
So where do I stand in all this?
Truly I don’t want to answer..
As long as I have you
Near and far
In this demanding cell
I’ll not fail in this tremendous tale.
Like the nightingale so
Perpetual; it’s my sworn duty.
This silly mind wishes you’d blackmail me,
Push me to a dead-end to make me confess
How this heart never wants
Another man other than you.
But until then
It’s my secret, Darling.
Because you don’t love me I have myself talked to a stuffed teddy bear at night when my sadness becomes my new lingerie
This stuffed animal sits on the edge of my bed with melting eyes as it cheers me
“screw him!”
All because you don’t listen to my drunken speech about you who never loves me
Makes me speak to a lifeless friend and sometimes
Teaches me fight like that of a UFC warrior to which I’m not sure I’d win against the oddities this life serves me
Along with the curve gaffes and wind breakers
How I want you never gaze at the darkness behind the black curtain
Takes me to the spot with my teddy bear and cry humanly on its lap
Because you never capture my deck of subjectivity in an era of probability.
Promise of love
Grounds oasis
Life begins
As you touch my heart
My maimed darling,
Cold as ice
Beneath the shades
I see you hurting
Watching you as it is
A battalion of knife
Stabs my whole being
Relentlessly scorned.
Why? I ask.
You insouciantly grimace
I crack a joke
But, not interested!
Poor me…!
For Love devours
Watching from a far
Swear forever love
In this cold night
I think of you
For what I do best
Is to coat you with endless love!
Knowing that the world is big
And you are hard to suppress,
I have convinced myself to work with me
since our mouths are still
too big to be filled with grapes.
My tactic is to switch on my X-ray vision
to look at you and examine your behavior.
Learning who you are
Leaning on how you are
Loving you at the same time.
So, my tactic is;
I don’t know in what context
should I start my remix
Perhaps I’ll work on
Talking to you and
Listening to you in order to
make a double bridge that enjoins us–
two separate conundrums.
Well then, let it be my tactic
To gather magnificent souvenirs from
our memories though
I am not sure to what pretext should I
base my intention.
Remaining with you is not far from a
good example.
My tactic, again, is to be just me
Today I’m a little straightforward
Tomorrow one straight awkward.
Understanding these mean
understanding you being
articulate but sometimes not eloquent.
Frank and at other times, still frank.
Though, I don’t know to what pretext should
I conform to build up our stance in this
one great chance.
Knowing that we are not selling each others
backs in a flood of simulations
and cheap concoctions of
distrust.
So that we’ll not only build indestructible bridges,
and worthy smiles and tears
but avoiding an invite
for blind curtains.
However, my strategy is,
quite relax and deep.
Though I believe I don’t
know yet to what context or
to which pretext must it start
when you finally come
to need me.
so I know whether this strategy
complies to me when and until
you realize that
One of these days,
YOU also can love ME.
I’m a child wrapped in the arms of a caring sister; a sister innate in me who values life as much as the child within me. Though life may seem rigid and tough she never forgets the lady, she is. Her free-spirited, cheerful and amiable beauty radiantly excites the world around her. But when my path veered to what I thought was the one for me; I crumbled. I was stricken with grief and vexation. It made me gnaw at its merciless impact. I knew then that the first cut hurts the deepest.
My past taught me as well. So much lessons I had to keep hammering. I know I’ve a lot more work to do to try to figure out my life now. And I will. I’m working my way through it. There was a time when I vowed to never repeat the same mistakes about who I let in my life, It was very taxing and toilsome. This time, I’m taking my time to prepare myself to be my best version as well. For now, here are four of the things I want in a partner for the woman in me.
When I think about it I just can’t help but smile because I know that the road to success has just begun. It’s about time I raise the bar.
-Poem-
Afflicted by the irreconcilable past
hoisted by distrusts and fights
A boy; never loved himself
severed the so-called ties
Blame no one but ourselves
Let the heavens tremored;
plagued the land
lashed judgment
For once we were denounced
children of the flock.
Now I have fasted
Appeased the gods
from the errors that
punctured my heart
A girl; overflowed with warmth
awakened to tend her mead.
alone.
For her descendants
For their meads
For their skies
not weeds.
Time is a friend.
Setted the plains
Colored the firmament
Called the gays
To move the waves;
To lift mountains.
then, she’d soar.
Higher her perch above
overlooking the forked roads.
I wake up with it to be rational.
Tell me.
What does it take to be rational?
When I’m more of the heart than the mind?
Tell me.
What does it take to think rationally?
When I cry most of the time at night?
Tell me.
What does it take to be rational?
I eat words. My body is oiled with phonemes
and morphemes. Encyclopedia? I read it sometimes.
I ask and answer questions intensely like when I scream over the cliff and it
echoes just. Or when you ask snow white’s magic mirror and it answers fast.
Philosophers? Scientists? I’ve read their stories.
I think I am rational.
But,
You.
How long can you stay rational?
Look at the chopping board. It’s stabbed by a knife 10,000 times.
Say you are that chopping board.
How do you stay rational after your heart’s been butchered 10,000 times?
Hmm..
Ok. Let’s try the night.
The night is cold, black, heavy and lonely it sends you to utter depression.
Say you are that night.
How can you think rationally when your head’s been coated with such an impenetrable darkness?
I think that’s a bad analogy.
What about the logs?
They are cut from big trees, stock-piled for winter and burnt in the chimney after.
Say you are those logs.
How long can you be rational?
When your soul’s been burnt like logs?
Forgive me. I know.
Lemme try it again.
What about the garbage in the landfill. Some have decayed. Mostly haven’t.
Say you are the garbage yourself in that landfill.
How do you keep a rational thinking?
When the world sees you as a garbage to be disposed?
Or
How do you stay rational after you’ve been betrayed and left to suffer alone?
Alright. Here’s the last one. I won’t bother to make a scene.
What about the land?
It has been stepped on, ran over by 10-wheeler trucks, suffocated by hot asphalt, mined, bombed, deforested, transformed, neglected even; in art.
Say you are that land which holds the earth.
Do you think you can still be rational after you’ve taken all these alone?
Perhaps.
But,
No wonder I’ve gone astray.
For trying so hard to be rational at all times…
To be all knowing?
I need more sleep.
Because
Maybe in my sleep I’ll be comforted.
Or
Probably not?
My intention was to write for myself, to uplift my world that I often found too full for me; the devastation it brought in my life that made me mad about myself. I thought writing dedicated to myself could heal me, bring me back the spirit I innumerably lost; could help me stand against my own rampaging demons. I thought I could still impress myself with my own articulate words, persuasive and sincere ideas built around my unearthly fantasies and delusions. While these reasons were still true, I realized I no longer write solely for myself, for the sheer pleasure of it, I realized I no longer desire to solely impress myself. My desperation for aesthetics and self-appreciation and expression had caused me so much that I wanted you to be desperate for my words and letters, be impressed by me, desperate for me and hopefully beyond romantic, too. But the limbo I created, the bubbles I carefully kept not to burst and the ink I spared for you alone collapsed, bursted and spilt for the life of me. And it was sad. It was really fucking sad that you didn’t feel the same way; that all along it was only me living in the dungeon of love and romance. When I deluded myself thinking that the world supported me or was moved by the unwavering affection I had for you; I was wrong. And again I was fucking wrong! Now broken and numb I don’t know how else I could bring myself to stand again; to believe in love and to believe in my ability to discern things and its driving force. I’m ashamed of myself for trying so hard, for desiring so much and for not going against my will. I’m mad because I was stupid; stupid to fall for you. Yet here I am quite unapologetic for my self-made mistakes, convincing myself to at least hear what you have to say, an explanation that you probably don’t even know what and why you have to. I was so wrapped up, too carried away, too smitten and too hurled up by the good things you naturally do to me. I thought I saw your eyes glistened for me because I was intimately special for you. But then and again, you weren’t and I didn’t turn you on enough for you to want me. And it was really sad. It was fucking sad that I was wrong so wrong.
I wished I was better. No. I wished I thought things out critically when I worked so hard to finish the feelings I embroidered on a white cloth for you, the hopes I knitted using a more refined yarn for a future you and me and the cross-stitch I was proud of doing in all the days I devoted for you.
I knew It was my fault. Just that…
It was really fucking sad; really fucking wrong.
-Poem-
Once you were
the source of my desire;
A shelter to my dreams in
A paradise I held thrice.
Locked you up in
a heart called mine
Betrayed by the emotions
I held through time.
Without you dreams
could never fly
like a kite,
Dead of the wind oh my.
In the sky I dreamt
To mind.
Desperate and cold was I
For fooling myself then cry.
I spoke first but didn’t think twice
So great I made multiple crimes.
Wished we had so much time
To know the language we never
Knew will find
In a place heard not
Of escapes and a flight
But of love and home
Reunite.
A composite of me and the universe 