a woman at church
with rosary in hands lights the room
like votive candles

On the waterway,
a white heron watches clouds;
And while passing by,
a couple see the water;
reflect over the heron.





L.L.

You are One in a million
But a million in one
It's what I want

Yet you are nowhere to be found

I tried writing like I used to write
To find myself along the lines
But I find me a long time ago
And then when I did I stopped

As if I reached some stop sign
Or a red traffic light
And I stayed there
Until again, I started to write

But this time I got lost
I could not fun where I needed to go
Then I tried asking for directions
But it was just me
Lost in my own writes

So once again I ended up at the stoppe sign
But this time, I found you
And by finding you, I found me
I have no motive to get lost

I feel like I am missing something...

Is it you?
or is it poetry?


The strange ache in my chest is coming back again,
and I cannot explain it
but it aches, it burns, as if I had drank alcohol
but ******,
I haven't drink, not even a drop.

I just want to curl up into a ball, turn off the lights of my room, and sleep it off.
I want to hybernate the entire month of December,
I don't want to go out, I want to stay in, I just want to stay in.


There's so much ache, I do not like alcohol.
It intensifies the ache, and I just want to sleep it off.
I want to hold my pillow, I want to sit in one corner, curl up into a ball. I want to go to and fro, to and fro, leaning front and back,
front and back, as if I was listening to waves, going
to and fro, to and fro, calm, tranquil, retreating backwards,
ebbing back into the sun...


But life doesn't let me sleep. It continues awakening me.
It continues calling me. And I just want to sleep the ache,
I want to dream that I live in peace, but my dreams are vast, too vast that even when life calls me, its voice echoes, twice, thrice,
"wake up"


I open my eyes, there's the light...
Life doens't want me to sleep in darkness, it wants me to awake... to open my eyes, to no longer be blinded by it's brightness...

Sleep has always been a part of me
I sleep even in my dreams,
Though sometimes sleep is hard to do
when responsibilities affect sleep
Regardless I dream to sleep and close my eyes
I simply want to just sleep day and night.

I threw letters at a sheet of paper
as if they were darts
aiming towards the center of the readers heart
But I never had a good aim

All the letters targeted my heart.

If by chance the hands of time
has shaken my hands with blessings,
I would greet anyone
with a handshake

But if by chance the hands of time
have embraced me with compassion
I would embrace anyone
who needs of that compassion

Yet if by chance the hands of time
has touched me with love
I would love everyone
But I would not touch all


Of that I'm sure

Too thin to break
Too thin to be
Like a piece of paper
I wanted to be

With lines on me
With lines on me

So I could speak without having to think
So I could speak as if someone wrote phrases in me

But I'm too thin, too thin to break
That when i speak without having to think
Like a piece of paper, I'm blown away
And soon, I find me blank
With nothing written on my mind.
And I start to think, I start to think
Until I am too thin, too thin to break

And I break, oh I break

into little pieces... And that's my end.

poetry
You pull out of me Wisdom
As if I were a wisdom tooth.
And you?
the dentist who pulls me out
to become
Who I'm truly meant to be

Not another cavity in the mouth of earth that causes pain

All I know is that when depression slaps me,
It slaps me hard.
Yet I just turn the other cheek around,
Until it slaps me one more time,
Then I slap it back,
Twice as hard, just to knock it out.
To Leave it unconscious for a while.

Oh come forth, speak to me my Lord,
I need to hear your words,
For them to guide me to you world.
I need to hear your voice,
For me to follow you, my lord.

I'm just a woman dressed in shame.
Undress me, lord.
See my nakedness with innocence,
And cloth me, lord.
Enwrap me in your mantle of love.

If I ever feel the earth tremble,
It would be because love came
to move my world for me

It would feel as if the gates of heaven opened
As the earth quakes and shakes
And as people stop their madness
To see the brightest of the lights meet their eyes

Imagine all gathered up in circles, hand in hand,
Like a human chain, standing around heavens gates.
All prepared to meet the judgement day
Together, supporting each other, helping one another,
Not letting a single one end up in Hell.

I dreamt I was a bench
where people sat to see:
the sun afar the road
the trees that grew so tall
the sprinkles turning on
the grasses going green
and overall,
dear nature moving them
as I remained unmoved
just standing there
with all their weight
rested only on me.

Too often too soon
I swam towards the deepest part of the sea
But I retreated like a boat
beign pushed back into the shores
by the same tides
that once pushed me towards you

While walking for a long time, I saw a field with roses,
All sort of roses,
Colorful, whites and pinks,
And reds,
And all sort of roses,
With and without thorns,
And I, mesmerized by their beauty, stopped my walked

Right into the garden of roses,
To meet love,
To meet the love that'll inspire me to live
To meet the love that'll be the fuel to help me keep walking.

The only thing I know is that
we, all, are broken
even before the moment we are born

And as we grow, it's as if,
with every passing day,
the pieces that will put us back together,
gathered up slowly,
awaiting for the moment
when we finally complete the picture
of who exactly is this Me

I wanted to be,
just to be...

and I was.

But I was
not what I wanted to be;
a little bee,
buzz and buzz,
flying,
in search of a flower,
with the nectar,
with the saccharine sweetness
of a kiss,
that'll help me make honey,
sweet honey,
out of this life,

I live.

But instead,
I was the flower,
with colorful petals,
in a garden full with trees,
that blossom in happiness
and eventually,
was found
by a bee

Love,

Call me today, tomorrow, or the next one
Call me in a week, a month, or a year
I'll wait,
But call me.

I'll be a telephone line, a wire to your voice, a speaker in your cellphone,

I'll be.

I'll be just waiting for a dial. Then  if I find it. I'll be just waiting for you to dial: the numbers in my heart, the combinations that makes this connections connects us both, so I may listen to your voice without you saying a single word....

But call me

Love.

The old though wrinkled
are far more flexible in thought
than the young,
they may not stretch physically,
But mentally,
They stretch, slash,
exercise their mind, as the days go on.

This doesn't apply to everyone,
But just a few or some,
And to those, that this apply to,
Maybe old yet wiser than the young.

bleeding emotions isn’t my fort

but sometimes these wounds of mine

open deep into the bone.

there’s a splinter stuck in my heart

I can’t pull it out no matter what

I say, God, oh God, help me heal

All I hear is “healing happens from within.”

Yet here i am suturing scars

While wounds remain untouched, left alone

As you see, bleeding emotions isn’t my fort

hence the why,

these wounds of mine have yet to **** me

you see

In a room, a girl read the bible
eagerly, so eagerly to learn the truth

curtains opened up
the sun shone through
the night fell

the girl continued reading, reading
non stop
non stop

until the truth was found not in the verses
not in the prose

but in her soul.

Be you but not the you
Everyone wants you to be
Rather the you
that makes you feel at peace
The one that pushes you to climb towards mountains of progress
And never towards a cliff of failure,
where you could find yourself on the edge of madness,
losing your head, and while at it, your sanity,
But hey,
be mindful that while you climb towards success, your foot may slipped with the rocks that get on your way, that isn't failure, it's just a slip and nothing else...

Remember be yourself

Walking upon these sidewalks,
Surrounded by pines and by a road
where cars pass by,
I wonder if you were here,
Would you walk upon these sidewalks,
Or would you drive that road
where cars pass by...
As if there was no time for a walk?

a wild rose
flowers thorns
on a stem

Do you find the light too bright?
Even though, it's midnight?
Can you see how brigh it shines?
Up above in the starry sky?

I have seen the road to Mars
As I sat upon a car
I could see how far away
those stars led the way

There are planets like some trees
that grow, and grow, so green!
And that make the universe
look youthful and serene.

There are other planets too
that become like a bomb
that tick and tock
like time often does

As if time was
trapped inside a clock
- just tick and tock --
Hammering with rhythm
Non-stop.
To break the lock
To free Himself,
with no apparent luck.

But every tick
And every tock
It can be heard by People
Who stick
their ears
to the clock
Just following the rhythm
Not knowing how free
Their time
Without making it explode!

I may have forgotten why I wrote
But it was something related to
Spiritual growth

The more I typed my thoughts
the more I learnt about life
And the more I realized
that thoughts are not necessarily
what define us

It is the actions we take
Independent of our thoughts
That define who we are

Thoughts can be simulations
of reality
That allow us to see into the future

but they can also be
memories that help us Relive
the pass

.......

I was hiding in a pen,
held by a hand,
And as the hand used me,
I was the words
that the hand wrote:

Fresh,
Then dried,

But Still, I was me,

the ink.

I must say,
A part of my soul was left behind,
in the many places where the hand wrote.
And as the hand wrote, in many places,
my lifespan shorten more and more.

Until all that was left of me
Was my vessel, the pen,
the body, that the hand held,

With so much love,

And the parts of me that were left behind,

That weren't tossed into the trash.

And if I had known
that like lighting you would strike my home
I would have flee into another land
just to secure the lives of those
whom I love

but if I had known
that like rain you would flood my love
I would have gone to the highest peak
this planet of ours has

yet if I had known
that like a river in a desert
you would evaporate from my life
I would have been a desert
all along

My mom thinks I am depressed.
She thinks I'm sad beyond measure.
But I don't think I am.
Yet, sometimes, I think, I might as well be.

After all, since the moment I was born
I'm like the ground
feeling people's steps and weight on my shoulders
( even when they don't walk directly on me.)

I mean, I'm just like the ground
that can't do anything to lift people's worries out of them
They take care of me but I remain floored,
fixed to the idea that I am just me...

a ground
that don't have feet to walk  a  life of its own.

a ground
that don't have hands to build a world to live peacefully.

but then, I think, "No, I'm not a ground.
I'm a human with feet and hand.
I'm a human with a heart and mind.
I'm a human capable of creating a beautiful life"

But then I remember again that I'm depressed,
And I can't stop thinking that I am like the ground:
depressing as I feel people's steps and weight on my shoulders
( even when they don't walk directly on me),
drowning in this depression as I let people's problems rain on me

And I began to depress a lot more...

Until I realize that this depression, has made me gain depth.

it happens ever so often,
I stop writing for a day
and it feels like it has been a month
that I haven't written at all,

so when I try to write again,

nothing creative seems to come out of me.

I become an introvert,
an introvert who introspects
about life and death,
who likes to think about thoughts
and the rarity of those thoughts
who would love to know about isaac netwon
and the way,
he communicated with God

ah... religion.

I never truly knew about religion
every man seem the same

I was naive,
I'm naive

I ve been told you are genuine
but
hey

i write about what I comes to mind
to heart
to soul

and that's that

okay.

I came to be nothing but a shell
swayed by ocean waves
to and fro, to and fro,
landing on a shore, close to palms, and the sun

Dec 1, 2015

Dear God,

Through my guardian angel
Send to me the knowledge
Send to me the cure
That I may hear within its whispers
How to achieve peace

May be the stars were out of my reach,
exactly how you used to preach
But their light guided my dreams

The waters of the seas I wandered in,
seemed calm, the shores sounded peaceful,
I yearned to walk in their sands.

But I floated between waves that lulled me into sleep,
And I floated between waves that moved me into tears,

But now, I know I have deviated from my path
I must searched for a northern star
I need to be guided
onto the right path

And for that,
I mustn't walk on the sands of the shores I once yearned to walk.

Are you a thorn or are you not?
You sting my stress away with just a touch,
But also make my head to bleed a thought
that you and I belong as such...

as if we were some kind of rose.

Not long ago you said I was the stem,
the one from whom you fed and grew to show
that you and I belong as such....
as if we were some kind of rose





the one who feeds then grows and shows
The two of us ....

In progress..

I feel as lonely as the stool in the kitchen
no one speaks, there are no lights,
Everyone sits on the sofa including the kitten
Not even the dog barks.

Whether I'll write or not,
it's not the question
for I wish to write today
tomorrow,
and the day that follows

The question is
whether I'll have time
today, or tomorrow,
or if I'll be here to write
the day that follows

No one knows.

Worry less by
Thinking less about the things you must do
Just do them, then think more
about things that help you understand
what matters in life
and what not

a lamp on a room-
with a switch, turns the lights on,
now on the kitchen

Two cents in pockets,
a cell, some cigarettes,
I was walking my way.

It was two a.m. in my dreams.
The boulevards where covered by dusk
and dust,
plus a scent of lust
perfumed
my skin

I kept walking,
head held high towards the moon,
Stepping the streets to the rhythm
of a peculiar tune,
Well known,
It was a Christmas carol,
the jingles and Bells,

"Where is santa Clause?"

Arrived soon at home.
To awake,

I was like a wheel rolling,
Just rolling
Moving
Your feelings
My feelings
Till we got upset stomachs
No more butterflies
fluttering in our hearts,
just sick
from all this rolling
Just sick
from all the moving

So i stop rolling
So I stop moving you

And that was it

I want him to know what I know,
This feeling in me, that only me knows,
If then, I could feel free,
I could forget that the world exists,
And just let go...

But only I know, and I know,
That I should not tell him so,
I know that this feeling in me,
I should just let it go...

I may come to you
like a wave
Quietly at night
Or like a tide
crashing at the shores
But love
I may come

Creativity is nothing out of the ordinary
It's like drinking water
A couple of liters throughout the day
Working,
Exercising,
Going for a walk
Feeling the wind against our skin;
Sweating
Then arriving home.
Preparing a hot meal. Cleaning.
Showering.
Then off to bed
That's how creativity is

Tiring ourselves with the routine,
Until while relaxed
The ideas start to flow
As if they were a dream

Love, love, love.
You see...
It's a bird flying and flying,
landing then flying
just flying then landing
this bird of love.
It spreads its wings,
It soars.
It flies.
This bird of love.

It's free to come and go,
And goes and comes,
But it never leaves
the skies it soars.

Oh This bird of love,
it soars and soars,
And lands, and flies,
in the skies and grounds,
of this earth
that is my home.

Oh yes, this bird of love
It loves this earth
That is my home.
With no condition
It flies and soars,
Whether warm or cold,
Regardless of the weather
This bird of love
Just loves
This earth
That is my home.

Me and you
In the road of over here is now
And in the intersection
Of over there is later
Just walking
Following that road
Not crossing the intersection.

I wandered barrels in between my tongue
tripping over words,
as if I tip toed to reach the clock,
then crack, hearing the wooden floor,
I cringed then ran,
to the kitchen screaming to speak more.

I do not understand these night words
That come to me like stars,
shining in my thoughts,
I extend my hand to reach to them,
But they are too far away, beyond a sense,
I feel like a child at a flat roof of life,
just swaying in a hammock that God built for me,
But I'm just amazed, flabbergasped to say the least, I simply enjoy watching the stars shine when my brothers watch it with me.