Woke up this morning with that kinda existential dread you feel, you know, when you wake up in the morning.

Destined
To
Fill
Profound
Silence
With
Frivolous
Noise

I stare upon the stars,
In awe of their gleaming wonder;
And they back at me from their
distant but eloquent vantage point.

They gaze from the perspective of true infinity;
And I from the tiny piece of the infinte my consciousness allows.

If we listened for long enough,
With the correct volume of concentration;
Perhaps we would grasp a slice of the knowledge
Needed to calm our ever frantic minds.
Grab hold of some greater truth;
A truth so great and so true
It would grant us genuine happiness.
The kind of happiness only someone in their twenties can believe exists.
Real freedom from the constraints of the mind.

What is required for this assignment however,
Is impossible to obtain.
There is a restriction on this biological blob of atoms we call the body;
A restriction placed upon it from the moment it was spawned.

This restriction is Time.

There is so much to say,
So much to see;
So much that sometimes everything
becomes overwhelming.

Language becomes cumbersome
and redundant;
Eating laborious and emetic;
Around family and friends you feel
out of place and superfluous,
Almost gagging on anxiety if
conversation floats your way;
Unfiltered thoughts overcrowd your mind,
thieving every ounce of your concentration;
Darkness fills your soul,
and it aches with every breath.

But then, one day,
after perhaps many difficult ones;
The sun rises and shines through the window
with the iridescence that only the sun can;
The birds sing their sweet sweet song,
inviting your ear drums to beat in alignment with all living things;
You find a pen in your hand again,
scribbling and scrawling your now interpretable thoughts;
Your shoulders, which were stooped, are now straight and
you stand tall in the stiff breeze, dreaming of possibilities.

Your alliance rekindled
with this enigmatic thing
called life.

Sumapit na ang hating gabi,
Unti unting sinasakop ng pagbubukang liwayway.
Gandang iyong taglay,
Sa aking diwa'y nananalaytay.

Ang saglit na pamamaalam sa takip silim
bukas ay mababanaag nang muli ang ligaya ng pusong minsang nagdilim.

Ang kaaya aya nyang ngiti,
Higit pa sa ganda ng bulaklak. Sa magdamag kong pag susulat ng matalinhagang salita ikaw ang aking nakikita.

Pansamantala, sa agaw ng dilim at liwanag. Ako ay mamaaalam. Itinitiwala na lamang muna sa mga bituin na ikaw ay matanglawan.

... Sa araw ng bukas ay masisilayang muli ang ligaya ng aking buhay.

Who could love a poet when a soldier would suffice
To warm the weary winter frostbitten bitter nights
To protect them from the wolf howling at the front door
And dare in dark and dangerous nights to explore
The ****** savagery of lust unencumbered on the floor
Who could love a poet for he is living in his words
Mind made up about the stuff no one has ever heard
Is he wicked, morbid, or only mildly disturbed
Yes, the lonely lovely poet no one has ever heard
Who could love a poet when a savage gets them hot
And though poets be full of passion savages they are not
Bumbling buffoons barreling through bottles of bourbon
Sharing sips of sanity to get through all the worthless working
You like him don’t you that mindless barbarian
That ****** with a rifle and the sickness he’s been carrying
Who could love a poet when desire makes them blind
Now years have passed mistakes become cemented in time
Bruises and broken bones, barely scratch the surface
In your heart you lost the spark and nothing can return this
Then you will love the poet, with words to sooth your soul
To satisfy that empty crater that you refuse to show
That hole dug deeper than anyone could truly know
You will love the poet then, but only the poetry will be left

Teach her not feminism
but femininity

for as she finds herself
only then,
rapt in purpose

she will know
what is worth fighting for