As I was walking in a hall, wide and bright, I stumbled upon a mounted spyglass.
Right on the mount, it said that it could let me look at the past. I thought that something that allowed me to look through to the opposite would be much more convenient.
Nevertheless, I looked in.
There I saw 2009 when I worried about when I will get laid.
The songs I listened to were old and good, but never mine.
These memories are blurry, small, and insignificant. But one could never forget what that felt like.
On the other side was 2013, when my mind was somewhere else as I sat near the university pathway when I should be in a class.
The songs I listened to took me as one of their own, at least for the time being.
These memories looked like miniature figurines. Problematic, yet quite small.
Tilting the spyglass, I saw the end of 2016. I was near a superhighway waiting for a bus that might never come. Things were still quite problematic, but clearer. None of those miniatures blurs on the side that just focused on me.
These memories looked bigger, much more vivid. It felt closer. So I looked away.
There I stood inches away from the spyglass. I walked to the other side and it allowed me to see the future.
Everything looked small and unclear. It was as if everything you can see didn't even know where to go.
But they all felt like mine. Like things I never had but always have known that belonged to me forever.
They are Sunday afternoon naps, cups of coffee that are either good or bad (who can tell?), and a lot of hugging.
Again I stepped back. This time because I felt afraid.
There's always uncertainty ahead.
But I was certain about uncertainty then.
The future can come in any way, shape, or form but one thing will never change.
It will always be mine.
Apr 16, 2020
Apr 16, 2020 at 2:06 PM UTC
I still long for a lot of things from you.
Like the smell of your room when you're peacefully dreaming.
Like the heavy beats in my chest when I'm about to kiss your neck while I'm spooning you.
Like the debate in my mind whether you'd like it or you'll like it a lot.
Oh pray that the summer could be more forgiving.
So we could run up to the hills
Lie under trees, tired from carving our names on their helpless barks
Watch the gaps between leaves and the sunlight piercing through
Draw scriptures on your skin.
Your blank page of a skin.
Always ready for a masterpiece.
Already, in itself, (if I may correct myself) a masterpiece.
I still long for the moment
After your sweating forehead gives way to your radiance.
After your legs stop working from hiking grounds of brown and green.
Icky damp, cracking dry.
I still long to see you
Playing on the river
Skipping stones
Soaking your heels.
Shaking off sand
Stuck in your Birkenstock.
Collecting stones you find fancy.
Writing our names on the sand.
Lean your head against my shoulder
Tired from all your adventure
Selfishly keeping each monumental seconds
Safely in our private album.
I still long to long for you.
Through summers,
Through seasons.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 7:06 AM UTC
Nostalgia is a comfortable mattress.
Roll onto one corner and you'll smell
Every verse that struck you
From old songs that
You hummed so tirelessly to.
Tuck yourself in to a blanket
Of traditions now long gone,
Of patterns in each other's skin
You knew oh so well.
Hold onto edges of that heavenly pillow.
A fondness nobody thought would die.
A contentment that used to help you sleep.
Now is the very nightmare,
Every bed bug who gave you the rash.
That gave you the reason to get up,
Pound the call of now.
The ascending ring.
Quaking the side table.
This poem requires more of the now to be finished.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
We all want the truth
But we're all liars.
Trapped before forks
Of the bed rock of love
And of momentary fires.
We all want to fly,
But we're born without wings.
Whenever we're down,
We re-evaluate our needs.
Whenever we're down,
We see several versions
Of getting down on our knees.
To a dying girl, we were betrothed.
But we held different backs
Segregated former lovers
And cheap lunch packs.
Those letters you wrote
Under your breath read
Rightly deserved curses,
O finely written verses.
Let's join our little drunken hands
In inexpensive Hong Kong sidewalks
The rum-infused sweat in our cheeks
Hasten not in hazy sweetie talks
The heat in the night
Can make the ice caps melt
But in two different poles our
Intentions got up and went.
Your eyes never looked like what it seem.
Your night felt like a lie, mine transpired a dream.
Sep 25, 2015
Sep 25, 2015 at 9:41 AM UTC
I saw her crying before,
It was beautiful. She was pleading for her child.
Intercessing for her to come back into the Master's arms.
There, there she goes again.
Pouring her heart out onto the Master's ear.
He loves the purity of her brokeness,
The fine quality of her pain.
Under the glades of the Master's gardens she knelt and pleaded once more.
She held in her arms one of her daughters who swam in the Sea of Flesh only to surface out and bear another.
She reached out her hand "Come, child. No use chasing after the flesh made of muscle and blood. Come child, come join your mother."
Her child reached the surface, drenched in regret. The days were filled with hope or the lack thereof.
She was lured by the pleasures of the seas, hiding under the guise of love.
But amidst all that, all Mother had for her was a blanket of warm compassion. Dismissing hot cups of condemnation everyone else had to offer. And she embraced her.
Back in the Master's garden she gave all her troubles at the foot of the Master's tree and stood up relieved of burden.
She faces another day, welcoming doubters and the troubled with arms wide open. Then again she lays it down on the foot of the Master's tree, for lives kept from ruin, for hearts not to harden.
I saw her crying before, and there she comes again. Together we sat and plead before our Master's feet. Running in wounded, rising up healed.
I saw her crying before, it was beautiful. I saw how she plead for herself, purging and redemption.
The world tried to take her out, but she only came back stronger every single time.
If you saw her crying then, it'll break you. She was torn and it was dreadful.
But from nothing she went up from glory to glory.
I saw her crying again, it was beautiful.
Dec 21, 2014
Dec 21, 2014 at 4:07 PM UTC
Keep a fifth of me in your mind
As I move on and leave
What we have been behind
I'll leave you hanging
Like the chimes on my door
As your scent becomes just
A fragment of my mind, nothing more
Meet me at eternity's pearly gates
Kiss me back as the desert wind
Meets your porcelain face
Every tear you shed
I'll fall on your cheek
Every fear you fear
My heart takes a beat
My love is only as good
As distance allows
My love, my love
I'm miles from where you are
My heart sings as far
As the speed of sounds
My heart, my heart
Come, my heart, tell me how far.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Just text me
I'm just a text away
Cause I don't wanna
Be near to you
To hear what you gotta say
I'd rather hear a beep
Than your wails and screams
Electric still sensations
Than angry sweet vibrations
When what you meant
Is not what it seems
Don't call me
Don't even think about it
You gotta be a dumb fall-whiffler
A bird-brained vapid zinger
F'you even think I'll answer it
Your rage got more swag in it
When I put in some background music
Alone with wine and cheese
Just let me give no **** in peace
Where all my sighs
Are all that I need
The glow on my screen
Is a better sight
Than the rage in your eyes
Spelling terror and plight
Rather grow this ache in my head
Why don't we both shut up instead
Rid our selves of the fester,
Just text me, I'm a texter.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:31 PM UTC
Father God
The world has provoked my heart into anger
My people happily marrying
Drinking their affairs asunder
Slavery never ends as masters of Earth continue to be Earthly
Working on the eyes, people-pleasing
While hiding their hearts in the dust and the dreadfully *****
I pray the dust of the Earth seek Your purging
See through the fangs of night,
Love illuminating
Let me be home, into your peace; a nourishing swarm
Rest my head against You like a babe, nestled in your arms
Rescued my hand to hold
Place my heart in Your hands
Pierce through heart and soul
Love Incorruptible
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 2:33 PM UTC
What it means to be man
I don't wanna know
Being man never got me any good
I just live to die
To be eaten one day by crows
I'm not from here
Will be gone tomorrow too
Clothe like grass, spin like lilies
Then down the hole you go, fool
I want more, I always do
Just one more bite before the Marshall he comes
A spoonful more as I blush in deadly crimson
I want some more, I always do
Why? Tell me that's human nature;
All the pains and merriment
Cry! Cry! We knew us that way;
The joys of mortal excrement!
You say I was born with some spoon in my mouth
Then take it away from me
Can't take that pig from the sty
Take the sty from the pig!
I want more, I always do
Just one more bite before the Marshall he comes
A spoonful more as I blush in deadly crimson
I want some more, I always do
Won't have some more, please, I'm good
Just one more bite and nauseam, the gastric works it comes
A spoonful more and I'm crushed in deadly crimson
I want some more, I always do
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC
Aim well, aim true
A refurbished face,
From a cry and hue
A bottled song just for You
From a stretch of tissues
From inches of a grin
Oh hark the heralds
Extra! Extra!
For Dobbie is free from the ******* of sin!
That's all I can stands, and I stands no more!
Mis-sized forearms can cause a little Thor!
A clean slate and a comma,
A rid of blight
I won't strap-out without a fight
On a zero to none I could still stand a chance
Place your bets on the duel of a pure heart and bad romance
1-2-1-1, 1-2 to 2
Pure heart hits turned the black birds into blue
Jab-straight-hook-straight!
Straight!-straight!-straight!
For bad romance it was always never than late
In arms a-clinched,
In needs of each other's cleave
Oh but stand up for the Greatest Warrior who ever lived
This habituated mantle only craves for;
A clean slate and a comma,
A rid of blight
I won't strap-out without a fight
On a zero to none I could still stand a chance
Place your bets on the duel of a pure heart and bad romance
Alas, after the bout the canvass had its slain
His subtle dance, a downpour and in vain
Raise your arm on bell's a-cue
The winner of this match; it's up to you
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC