By the sea ūüĆä

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.

Lost state

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.

It’s my secret

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Talking to a stuffed teddy bear ūüźĽ

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. 

Endless Love

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!

My Tactic; My Strategy

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.

 

Journal entry #1 What I want in a partner

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.

  • Has his own identity; someone who never lets himself go in a relationship.
  • ¬†Self-motivated
  • Shares the same dreams and goals
  • Committed to do the hard work

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.

Maybe in my sleep I’ll be comforted

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?

 

Really fucking sad; really fucking wrong ūüėĒ

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.