Walking in the road
       witness passerby's journey
             directions lead way.

Sailing the ocean
        how might you freak out waves
               morning dew, you are.

To fly high, you dream
         afraid of Icarus' fate
             soul, keep in the shell.

Drive the way to search
          new lands, new lads and lasses, self!
                     anyway, keep distance.

Fear not, break not, journey!
          drive, climb, walk, swim, fly, run, slow!
                  never, journey less.

Hidden at the back of my mind
an idyllic vision
taking a trip
to span all continents.
Travel to Asia's Great Wall, Europe's Eiffel Tower
Africa's Giza Pyramid, America's Statue of Liberty.
Travel by Aladdin's magic carpet
spell-bound and comfortable, yet bewitched.
Travel for too long
for an endless trip, there it is
my destination.
A final full of dreams, a final to come true
a destination that fir altogether
a destination with that jigsaw.
I cry to reach for destination
I wait for long hours, saying myself
when I reach it - that will be it
this trip is for lasting happiness. But last destination lost
it's a dram, can't believe t'was a dream
a dream which outdistances me.
Next time, I promise
not to travel with that genie's carpet again
go to walk through path untrodden
go to climb Mt. Mayon, swim more to the Pacific deep
go bare footed in the Gobi
I promise, I promise
to live more my travel
the destination, the next stop
sooner in sight
than I expect it to be.

I love my very own pen
a pen easy to push
a pen for truth
lies out-cast!

I love my pen
the way it goes along
with my helical head
the way it goes swift
with my roguish paper
the way it writes blank prose
delighted? Not me, it's them
or you.

non-sense fonts, they say
I beg for disgrace
for they are the power
of my visions thing
they are the power of my dark ink
freedom sharpened, inked
I scribbled its wisdom

Thoughts once ooze out
ideas irretrievable
impressions? I don't need
exactly its ballpoint's labor of thoughts
desires for precession and
harmony
of ideas never pirate.

They say: we, humans, were born for reasons
then blinded for a reason was I?
or, muted for a reason was I?
intricately, not to see the beauty of the world's wonder
not to sing the melody of sweet rhythmic dulcet,
yet precious, perfect unique design
they call I am, God's special one.
I can't see I am, still
I can't say I am thus, still
I can't completely sense I am.
I move, yes, with freedom, a figment, though
yet imprisoned in an eggshell, my deadend
grave I had never.

One silent chilly midnight,
in a dark secluded room
beyond the window, morning dew touches leaves
anticipating to drop
eyes at dew, mine falling tears.
Not that I saw shooting stars
dashing sweep from the vast night sky
wishing wish upon a star to come it true,
not that moment soothe and rejuvenate
the spark for my poetry to lost.
Crying all out loud, by myself, instead I:
an accident I am!
a mistake t'was I born, a mishap t'was I vulnerable
life's a fluke of nature, therefore.
Sure i am alive by fate, by chance, by luck, by coincidence
at this very moment
crying and breathing I am.