Fine porcelain litters the cloth,
yet a quick pull leaves it still.
An exchange of tails both
holding, careful to not spill.

Our plates remain intact,
despite accidents of gravity.
Clearing the surface momentarily
within arrangements of integrity.

Utensils quickly turning
our tensile accent; I uttered
Vowels to what was heard
repeatedly signed our yearning.

Difference meant crosses
connecting lines of diffusion.
Anak, there was a time
your last name - carried
but prejudice will follow.

Our immigration,
garnered tailored unsuited
ties to our beautiful pearls,
progress adapts singularity,
a strength for your identity.

Relief, from fastened shades
opens palms allowed to dry.
Soiled worth will blossom
your ancestry will procure
self-reflection, and will spread.

Speaking our language
turned to novelty stones.
But a divided tongue
will speak the same good
bringing you respect.

Wash your hands, pray before
eating with your hands.
Appreciate the feel of the rice
each grain has it’s worth,
the pull from our hull.

The minute handed the past
while seconds elapsed alarms.
Expectations lead to patience
- causations falling over charm.

Unrequited executed hanging
on holding all the rest.
Sincerity perpetuated,
unresolved swinging at last.

Barefoot without impression
you remembered this pair.
Unexpected crosswords
rising letters to share.

An exchange of auditions
retracting resigned conditions.

Reviewing has been the perpetual answer.
To the unclear inquisition
that befalls the people
I have not seen
or spoken to for some time.
But there’s a progress
to the studies
which have accompanied
my mind to see beyond even me.

Thorough repetition
of factual information
in a mundane fashion.
The passion for acquiring
the necessary knowledge
has found it’s self
incorporated
in the daily conversation.

In the morning
a discrete young woman
fashioned with a “salmon”
bandana, leaving the cafe
with green tea in hand.
Followed by the waddling
footing of a child holding
a mother’s hand.
In passing, an adult
repetitively cursing
on the undertones
of their words.

The following day
a man in a tailored suit
talking to himself
with an ear-piece
unseen to some.
A young man
holding his father’s hand
hauling an oxygen
tank behind him.
A young lady with
white complexion,
studying. As she faces
my way her cheeks appear
with patching tones of black.

Reminded daily,
I return to these books,
the flow charts of
pathologies and treatments.

Humbled,
that the view and discourse
of our conditions
are not all the same.

Looking back
is a turning point
to remembering,
almost glancing
past the light that already passed.

An internal discourse
that had it measures
harmoniusly in concert
of leads and follows.

These days require inspiration
for revelation to follow elation.
An adaptation solely for the
consciousness.

When you criticize
the recesses of your mind,
you come to realize
the limitations
that remind your fears.

Simple acceptance,
suppression
or worse a change
in direction
isnt the resolve
but rather continue.
Let hope adhere.

Keep looking back,
when I can’t move forward, I keep looking back.

The connection with how I speak
and how the words that follow
seem to not catch the dancing
and listeners that follow.

The crowd around this tribal
semi-circle hasn’t taken
the feathered trials
fitted on their fathers minds.

Whether they choose
not to embrace or to me disgrace
by forgetting their past
it familiarizes my identity.

But familiar curvatures
form complete circles,
overlapping or simply touching
we are all siblings of each other’s hold.

Whether the sun provides
more warmth here
or my skin appears pure, we still remain
within the same wars of existence.

I echo respect, you understand
because it simply translates.
Continue on, remember re-verse.
Keeping shades.

Positions block the light,
rather corner views of the night.

Keep looking back,
when I can’t move forward, I keep looking back.

Supine and enamored in cotton sheets.
Motionless, with vessels dilated at the time.

The filtered light makes it’s journey.
Warmed by the hour, warned by the noise.

A voiceless yawn, a reflex, and then stretch.
A conscious gasp followed by flaccidity.

Yet the day before, perpetuates
the morning after.

Evenings always seem to foretell
the prior hours of our working days.

If the day moves, without faults
we speak in a elated way.

When a hinderance appears
and untimely tragedy commits.

The liquid labor may be your vice
to secure then admit vulnerability.

Nothing more are the stumbles
that only gather footing
and stand against
the door opening

to traffic, streets garnered
with endless glows
within our restless minds
finding exits to resetting the past
and just returning home

Dreaming seems to be a cycled reality,
dueling matters of vague interpretation
almost holding on to a fugue
state of delieverance,
that returns to dreaming.

A wakefulness that pardons our stressors,
exploring how sureness of changing tides
have arrived to wash the shore’s footprints;
turning salutations to a once cumbersom
slumber to keeping these eyes closed.

The mind never rests,
it continues to timely act.
Despite the character of one’s gait
submissive to extrinsic. We dream the same.
A neutrality in recognition,
the deepest desire,
the social matter,
and the human acceptance.

We rise to sleep
to deeply wake
the harden reality we failed,
to accept throughout our day,
removing our knighly armor and face
our dragons which have their own vices,
yet our devices hinder. Our true dreams,
blur between eyes closed
changing to dreaming with eyes open.

Realizing all true negatives are true
positives differing only from accepting
that I can vertically add difference;
we can all equate to change
if you keep dreaming in mind.

Conscious how below self awareness motives can be.
Subconscious no matter the state.

The density remains linear; all drawn in pen
to attend to these feuding desciples
of being “super” and the instinctive relliance on idioms,
of actions portrayed further than words,
finding balance on this epicenter
of egocentric dreams coined all along the same metaphor.

Sides- to what ever shape of form of the matter ,
linear at point we all eventually
dive/urge finding another
point above or below
convergence in light
to change focus in volume/mass
equaling (1)ndividuality / decreasing the density of situations

All through the afternoon,
among these drinkers
to their tables to java cups
all from a bird’s-eye view.

Blended individuals,
of varying hues
too much sugar, no need to stir
hot, no ice - “a language of their own”
adding “cream to this crop”
like fraternity’s rushing thought
to seemingly weed out the weak.

Textbook before my face, coffee to my right
surrounded by chatter, and apparent debacles
behind the rearing of my ear lobes
set the seem from my shirt and cut
play the motion picture, film, pan out.

360 crossover,
these eyes wander, merely to ponder
conscious parenting to the mind; reminded
yes I did complete that -
atoning to what could be done,
view now from my eyes
around clouded peripherals
(zooming into this page)
trying to read to figure
a Venn diagram of the temporal lobe;
committing to memory ironically
it’s long-term function to maintain
the conception of this thought.

Distracted, back to this drink
re-calling coffee mythically impedes growth
or so they say to stray from focus -
the holder is the cup, to handle is abrupt
but we drink it, to straighten our view
so much as this morning vice stimulation
branded by a jaded graphic mermaid,
or possibly a siren, or to some a muse.

But, it’s the afternoon; no need to rush,
just here and there, casually taking sips
temporary jolts of caffeine
a temple of thought,
temporarily fading,
due to lacking the day-to-day rest.

Same perspective,
but this time curious, calm, and collected
like a child looking above an ant-farm - proud
gazing at moving points like synapses
of our coffee cups as opening our wakefulness.

Can we just remember to understand
that everyday is different.
Our mornings may start mundane
but we find joy in the day
for afternoon connections
no matter what they may be, just to remember,
so that we can have lasting memories,
and not the caffeinated ones.

We all seem to grow apart
but it’s not just the start.
We move away, begin
and find our parts.

Soliloquies to plays
that we recite daily.
Little we know,
but time will owe.

We begin to answer
with knowing
and more, yes
” I remember ” ;
the acts
we use to say
in our once
naive disarrays.
We learned the difference.

We have found
connections:
some strengthened,
newly added,
once forgotten,
and then regained.
- Refrain
we attend
to our chains.

So on this day
you walk not step
staring beyond the next
climb further, higher
hold your breath
your at a stage
no curtains
just certainties
of beginning
your part.

2011 ©AGDP

open before, lines have peaked
after falling archaically then to resume;

only to find normal rhythm
while finding dancing wings, in tune

attesting to this chest’s bounty
beneath these dubious lullabies,

finding resonance in this romance,
to see you again not good-bye.



2011©AGDP

I really don’t want to fall
Towards the asphalt and all
That possibly I may understand
And nevertheless not hold a hand
The meanings regardless
The tone of it alone is senseless
Here we taste our bitterness
In thought of submissiveness
Retracting from this internal argument
I let my hold, lead to recovered moments
To see anew in spirits passing by
Allowing no judgments given by eye
Then it recovers from reason
That the insolence of my attention
Was skewed by heart of this lesson
That once we love, we ponder of that only one
No matter the moral to our background
There are always breaks to get around
To make amends to sincere intentions
For where the day ends we continue on
Walking alongside following the tension
Of our will and moral detention
The irony that we all befall
Is she causes it all
Grief when I hear from you,
Stress when you need me.
So it would be natural to think
You’re the downfall of me.
But yet you tell me and show me always otherwise.
You just don't know that I take you
For who you are, when you’re with me
Because you are yourself

Our preconceived notions
can’t seem to be left at the door
as we all seem to meet each other
for the first time, hand shake in check
psychiatrist inspecting psychologist
who to take, what to take, can we partake
in this guessing game of assumptions;
all because we are deeply insecure.

Yes, perhaps the writer even the reader
can take heed even implore the words
from abstracts, to ideas set forth to type
font, confront abound the reflective recollections,
as I form sentences and you figure the syntax.

Seeping through the membranes that we have solely
constructed from the libations and gluttony from opposite
heads to tails; phobic forming channels flipping
ratios of eyes on you, and yourself so to be social
concentrates every weekend, only to dissipate.

What has been lacking is simple genuine
conversation of good morning, how are you ?
exchanging information so to know
one another - that is being social.

The microcosms we place ourselves into are nothing more
than are fathom facades we trace as perimeters so to measure
how much we can let people into our already egocentric lives.

Don’t contest that statement, to some level we all have absolved
in our own thoughts everyday, that we lose sight perhaps
what we see with our eyes should be understood logically
with conscious from the back of our minds.

Tip this scale for which we wait, taking to memory
that we heal as we initiate, and take ourselves
into each others weight, so we can carry on.

held up legitimate excuses
fully executing unfocused choices
returning, backspacing this type
same sentences, of looking back
from rough drafts, rewriting
keeping words behind images
spoken actions restricted glances

still looking to find my essence
as repeated waves came tides
contrived to dissolve so to solve
all secured within tiers of a castle,
granulations formed from memory

write so to form, a type of sand
tangible untangled tactility
measured through these hands
we can only grasp these times

Come by tonight i'll share this time
a while we'll stare, my words will exile your eyes
no more unspoken defined soft talking
I hope this alone will change the tone
to remix reminisce this melody

I'm always beside you here
These thoughts for you I keep
So you don't hear though, my whisper
through this night, it will be clear

hesitating this mind stating in keeping safe
I had to reflect so to take a step back
Making sure my step forward
Wasn't someone beside me
Aside from this heart
Getting hurt by all this Inside
Dwelling I''ve been there
Stayed there, and you don't know it
but I just realized it
you brought me out of misshaped
beats that I always kept tracking back
because I could follow your beat.

I'm always beside you here
These thoughts for you I keep
So you don't hear though, my whisper
through this night, it will be clear

to the thought of you
that motif of you
was like a latent infection
like hives to my face
making me red but breathless

made me realize
got me sensitized
when a new face,
recalled called before
these eyes that came into focus
instead of my eyes clear to you

that was once too far before
repetitive inhibited i’ve become
playing mute like an idiot
like a puppet on the a string
couple with a hand up the rear
faking every smile with a cheer

this isn’t a hate a poem
not lyrics to tic away
the times of regret to rhyme

no, not at all
not seemingly at all
not even partial, somewhat

i needed to make peace
with myself, and my mother
a tangible door that i left
through with the window
wide open, tired, and confused
through a flow that obstructed
with only beams from high school
no foundation to be constructed
I upset her and it was not you
it was the person that gave
the very thought of me to even
conceive to help you, be there for you
i repressed that, i suppressed that
but finally I’m relieved of you
now closer to my parents
that you’ll ever be to yours
it’s the truth, not an insult

i spent all these years
psychoanalyzing a psyche
undirected, ironically
you gave me direction
away, no contention
just signs, and many exits
but i continued to drive
passing opportunities
friends and happy moments

i have internalize this too long
reading into nothing, yes it could have been
but I focused on changing you,
because of you, what you have seen

i’m done, fully relinquished
you probably won’t know, or ever care
or even read this, never took interest
anyways on this craft of mine
only on witchcraft because you never
cared too much on your own faith
again the truth

as I observed, you’ll only come around
from getting broken and surely that was it
but in the end, there was only so much
we can mend the people around us
they have to realize, and yes you made me realize

if the world wasn’t the way it is
the only women i’d call my best friend
wouldn’t have to contend with the contents
of this poetic discourse, because frankly
all this could have been averted
but it was because I’m too good of a person
too nice of a guy, never wanted to play the game
now i’ve mastered it, just been holding on this space

but that was it, it was just space
you dragged the offensive of me
a defensive I have known all along
and kept pensive
it’s just we try to keep
what we can not have

different side of the sun
walking toward noon rises
set to driving before night
betting the prior hours away

changing minds
amateur detour
to mature tours
all I once promised
to myself I wouldn't
flip, but time limits
inhibits our poker face
before you know it
your all in

compare a year's days
of eight hours, I actually miss
juggling the jungle of working
the vines, and finding solace
under the shade of night
with new acquaintances
ever different, my eyes
ever blinking, linking
to a new soul, and not limited
to roaming like an unfinished ghoul

the business of a bottle neck effect,
i'm looking to "evolve"
filling the palindrome
and adapt as I always do
as we always eventually
find a means to

i'm seeking my calm
with music in alms
to other's palms
so my hands, and my ears
through headphones
become calls to my mind
as the alarm clocks in again
good morning - to the mirror
your good to go again

realize, realize
defense mechanisms
not on impulse rather
falsifying my intention
to deter my pure elevation

you took out the genie,
but the wish maker in me
got left in the lamp hampering
strokes to my mind in the past
that I fully finally freely let go
no longer wavering
now waving adieu

finding again that old courage
to pursue you

hit the play button, unwind
and all a of sudden laughter
matches pitches and tones
switching expression, from
last ditches and groans
that displaced the day.

break out the bottles
taking out messages
to mess and address
the irony to humor;

a winding tide
to what is seen
to eventually forget
ourselves through
a musing, as we delve
our attraction to fill
the missing tiles
all the while
not keeping score
yet presenting
the core of who we are
in each encore
laugh, and coupled smile
paused, satisfied
that the day has ended
in the company of understanding.