I never told my mother I love her until my senior year,
and I have been scheduled lately to care for a dying woman,
struggling, gasping for dry misty air. Few weeks ago, I leaned
over a newborn to monitor his extrauterine adaptation, his cry for life.
I first learned from my psychiatric nursing class that recognition
is a form of therapy, an ephemeral touch to the soul, the kind that
gifts me little snacks as reward for small talks with a patient. I guess it is the
words that turn into charms. I once asked an irritable elderly woman
if she had eaten and she also asked me in return. I was liquified. My house
has never had picture frames hung up on the walls. Crumbles of loss,
torn wedding album, heartbreak in my larva years.
I feel so privileged to be saved by the sick or I may say, to view
nursing as a means of holding on to life.
Some time in my senior year, I encountered a woman, same age
as my mother, with brain aneurysm and every movement of
her head, limb, and torso hurt her. I assisted her to the bathroom,
then I introduced myself again.
Apr 6, 2023
Apr 6, 2023 at 8:24 AM UTC
our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 4:49 AM UTC
your heart will not fail in space
it will be an object of its own mass
and gravity
no longer will there be a throttle in its vessels
and asynchronicity in its rhythms—
the beats, oh, the beats
your heart, when it is in space, will only wait
for an entity
to be jettisoned from a shuttle
my oxygen is running low
i love you to your heart and never back
Jan 17, 2022
Jan 17, 2022 at 12:01 AM UTC
As though I can only show up when
the sun peeks and a ray touches me,
and I bleed
ink from my desolate spaces
It absorbs the gush to feel it is worthy
of my parts that I tend to
forget, to give away
I keep on refilling myself
just to be empty in pleasure with you later
It drains me and then brims me
and then drains me once again
Oh I like it so I let it,
and I burn
from those diurnal peeks and touches
You then hide and I return to feigned flashes
Tell me how I can function
when you know that all I do is
love the sunset
and bleed for you
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 12:55 AM UTC
Sometimes
poems
make
me
want
to
write
in
a
crowd
of
only
one
person.
Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 6:44 PM UTC
i don't see myself
loving
any other man but you
so i let the stars align
to take me as soon
as i am forty for
you
desire not of me
41 and alone
51 and alone
61 and alone
i do not want to grow old alone
i foresee myself growing old alone
so i ask the stars to take me when i am forty
or younger
my dust to be encrypted
when you close your eyes at night
tells you that
i could've grown old with you
you are too late
you are too late
Sep 1, 2021
Sep 1, 2021 at 12:54 PM UTC
If I shall sit alone again,
I will not think of
the wind as my companion,
for I always feel more
than the blow and touch it gives
that still i yield from afar
a less expelling air -
a warm and sensuous breath from thee.
And so for every time
I will sit alone,
pleasing is the wind that,
although from a different byland,
gets to indulge my insides
as if near we already are.
Here again I sit alone
not feeling so alone,
for I think now until close we come
the breeze that
gusts a tingling sense
is thy breath
that catches me.
Aug 25, 2021
Aug 25, 2021 at 11:09 PM UTC
on this day, i write
tunes and voices coming in one ear
playing your message as i pause the music
playing the music as i leave your message
thought to resurge but a tough palm stood
to release the string from my opposite drum
attached is my depth from a pit, yelling
with you, we lost the bucket to save it
for this day i shut
so my fading code unbars
scripts i thought i'd never again crack
since my inclination to yours for me to be a part
from now and when i hear you
again will play the music that turns me than up
uncertain, but to neighbor by far is to keep you
from living in my lines
Jun 9, 2021
Jun 9, 2021 at 3:55 AM UTC
If there comes a time
that you might lose me
Find me in my poetry
May 15, 2021
May 15, 2021 at 1:28 PM UTC
clouds crying in the dark
As a soothing melody marks the demise.
Jan 1, 2021
Jan 1, 2021 at 1:26 PM UTC