April 15, 2011 § Leave a comment
i do secret crying over things that have passed me by. you’re one of them. you knocked on my door. and i didn’t hear it. i was busy talking to myself. you went back to the gate and rang the doorbell. and i didn’t hear it. i talk to myself loudly. you sat by my door, thinking what to do next. you blew my windchime. i closed my mouth. i heard it. i closed my eyes. i heard it. i gave out a sigh. you blew my windchime, whispered goodbye. i heard the clang of metal tubes, and felt something, someone amiss. i did secret crying. and i wondered for what.
March 27, 2011 § Leave a comment
i’ve read somewhere: promote change, but don’t do it so often. or something.
there came a time when i found reasons to cry each night. anything. but somehow, those find a way to boil down to a particular reason. a reason too obvious, too common, and not too unnatural. say perhaps, hunger. no parents at home, no dinner. perhaps something deeper, deep that dried up tears can’t fall down to.
the clack, the crisp clack of unconnected rhymes, or nothing rhyming. or words. the flow that one just has to listen to, forget what it means. it’s the sound you must hear, and listen. no meaning. no meaning. the resounding music of something you didn’t bother to decipher. until too late, of course.
it’s the saliva. when you focus, it’s the saliva you can hear.
=never let me go + keane’s hopes and fears + gap=
i want to be suffocated by people who forgot how to make choices. who appreciated art, and appreciates it still. like the congenital. because, information overload does that to our brains.
but by saving grace, your ma comes home bringing what was left for what was supposedly her share of supper, and you get to it. then you didn’t realize you’ve eaten all of the biscuit sticks. mine did, and i did.
when sunshine sounds like can anybody find their way home, that drop of sunshine stopped at 4 minutes, i don’t know where i live anymore. but it is lovely to dwell on the keyboard. with the calm ticking, it’s the perfect clack, the crisp clack of connecting rhymes. but of course, each punch sounds awfully the same. awesome.
keeping a straight face, i bumped on the question, where have i been all my years? i belong to the vague age, it doesn’t matter. white lights sounds like white lies.
now, i long (to be) être naturelle.
March 5, 2011 § Leave a comment
imagine your reaction when you say that to yourself.
there, it was instantaneous. the break, the stumble, the fall. the break. the continuous breaks. then, the shouts in duet. sharp, like the seeping pain to the eye who had just witnessed what it didn’t request consciously, what it didn’t wait for expectantly.
the continuous breaks.
and those short empty spaces in between.
sickening. but i couldn’t gather more reaction from myself than mere huh-how and why did it happen? then, can’t i do better than that? no, even the processes i did afterwards were done because i thought they were supposed to be done, since they were as if the least thing i could do.
the details – which i couldn’t recall. hell, the devil is always in the details! hell, i’m not one to notice them, what more remember them? i am the one who creates them in my mind, friggin’s sakes.
but the breaks, the continuous breaks. stamped in my memory. fictional or what or not. there.
HEYA BRAIN, WE’VE GOT WORK TO DO, i told myself.
February 26, 2011 § Leave a comment
some things go without saying. this could easily be one of those things. but it’s hard when you make it difficult. some things just won’t, couldn’t go without saying.
forever’s a long word. but it’s short when compared with excitement. and excitement lasts for only a few moments. those precious few moments of rush for growth. “leave me unsustained of it, di jud ko mu-grow ani!” said the pea to the pod.
if the pod lets the pea venture out on his own way, then the pea will soon find himself amongst bedclothes and foam mattresses, a dozen of them. he will be placed at the bottom, covered by the heavier part of the rectangular piece of comfort. the princess will then climb up the ladder to station herself at the highest haven. there, she’ll try to make herself comfortable but shall end up tossing and turning for the whole night instead. that whole time, the pea will stay still – for fear, for enjoyment.
that’s one hell of a situation to end up with. but the pea could easily be munched or squished into powdery green grains.
well, that’s still better than not having to go out of shell at all. Whole lot better.
out loud: let the plant trust his produce.
and if the question’s raised again,
Yes. Yes, I am. Phineas always says.
February 24, 2011 § Leave a comment
okay, i know i took so long. i’m sorry. but that doesn’t give you any right to desert me!
no. but it gave me the option.
right. that scottish guy is still waiting. but the plaid tune of this song keeps me a-sway. every moment is so precious, right. in this strawberry field. strawberry swing. would anyone want to waste a thing? of course not. of course not.
but it all boils down to nodding or shaking the bottle of brain-shack. aye, nay. yeah, nah. yes, no. O, D. this, that. choice, choice.
February 22, 2011 § 4 Comments
i could be cracking my bones while swinging to this bossa tune. can there be a more frustrating day?
well, i have spelled that word as frustating at first. now, tell me again.
this isn’t actually a bad day. i had more embarrassing moments yesterday. but today is a menace of broken notes, sharp and flat. if this is a developing colds, then the sneezes are teasey. but surely unpreventive.
but frustrators, you just wait. i’m going to get out of this jail, while still keeping myself locked. and will for yourselves, experience the scratchy screech of the menace of broken notes, sharp and flat.
goodnight goodnight. for sharky, though he still looks good in that mohawk, doesn’t make my heart skip a beat. no one does. except you frustrators. but thank you nonetheless. for you command me to do what i must. keep me awake more nights, and i can write off the island, or erase. i can always do that instead of breaking shoulder blades.
oh, should i count? the remembering of something to do when i was ready to go home, one. the before coffee moment of laughter (not even mine!), two. the everlasting chatterbox becoming two young’uns, three. the thirst unquenchable by saliva gulps, four. the MIA plastic, five. the MIA other thing, six. the tedious wait for the crowded jeep, seven. the shouts of fare collection, eight. the untrustworthy looking dudes, nine. the second lost wallet this month alone, ten. the free fare, eleven. the corner light and those under it, twelve. the cold dinner, thirteen. the restartable computer, fourteen. hooooooot. i’m just counting.
and it made me think, out loud, “save me L.”
February 16, 2011 § 2 Comments
one AM. on the dot.
here in front of you, dear screen. too close. while munching on the bread called mushroom. with the crunch and fallen crumbs, this gotta be the tastiest midnight treat i had tasted in eons.
mosquitoes flying alongside me give themselves easily away. with a touch they fall lifeless into my hands. sleepy dearests.
the sky could be blue, i don’t mind. the sky could be blue, could be gray. I DON’T MIND.
we have this course in our curriculum that teaches us how to write letters, business letters. well, there’s this business i badly want to attend to. i want to send a letter to a pirate asking, and giving permission to invade me. the pirate called love. now, it’s hard living a life devoid of love. one has to live with it. no. one has to live it.
and i’m not one.
i’m the joke they took too seriously.