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I looked through the seas
with the way I look at youβ€”
skydeep and everblue.
[ Figures ]
coastline: a boundary between two people with completely different worlds.

(no matter how much you want to jump, all you could do is watch because it is a clear border where lines drawn can never be crossed)

(the coarseness of a coastline signifies the hard situation of someone who has unrequited love over a person)
I wish I could fling the door open
so you'll see the window
I told you about.

We could watch theΒ street posts and tree sparrows on cable wires extending to the horizon of watercolor skyscapes
from there.

But I'm concerned of what
you would think when you'll
also see the vase and
a dead tuscan sunflower
I've plucked sometime
in a long-ago summer.
Don't worry I am not a creep.
I can even make you
some paper orchids
if you like.
I might put one on your ear
if it's fine. Just
give me some time.

Don't mind those
tattered jeans and floral socks
stenched of petrichor
and scattered like autumn leaves
all over the floor.
That's how I've been. Just
give me some time
to clean.

But then that is why
I'm all afraid
you might dislike me
for I've built up lies
and messy secrets
to hide a past
and all.
There wasn't even
a single window
on that wall.

You might not understand
I'm like a lichen-blotched tree
inside a lake of jade.
More like a
dead tuscan sunflower
inside a vase. If so
you don't have to
stay longer in my shades.
But don't just leave me
like a summer
in a while.

You might not understand
why I live
in a house of no windows.
But maybe you won't open the door.
If I would be born again
I'd be a humble leaf.
Leaves, when they fall in time,
do not break.
And there wouldn't be too much sadness,


but just peace.
maybe if we would really look, even the silent falling of the leaves might show us something deeper than how deep they fall unto
Mother look.
Maybe I know where
all the fallen stars have gone
and where the falling stars go.

Maybe in the undersea,
becoming who they really
want to be.
°°°
When wading on low tides, I never forget to hunt for newface starfishes and take photographs of them for keepsakes.
°°°
This concept may be out of the box and/or bizarrely new. The metaphor or maybe the connection of a star and a starfish in this might be not as striking but I hope it does leave a good impression. At the same time, I wrote it in my perspective as a child so to best reminisce how I used to think about falling stars and starfishes. It's like writing a provoking memory, to me. And I did use to imagine the falling stars and starfishes (both things fascinated me) metaphysically connected and related when I was young. It's not a concept I've made up now, it's a thought that really came in mind at the very moment I was at sea with my mother in my childhood. It's a memory I really want to honor and write something about. Somehow, I also wanted to convey this concept as something that would be bizarrely relatable to me, something I, or if by chance, you as well, can reflect on in terms of my/your relationship to my/your mother. On the first line, "Mother look", I wanted it to convey a sense of expression entirely describing those instances when I tried to explain myself or something I think about to my mother and seldom end up in arguments. Then the thought of relating falling stars to starfishes can be childlike. I think of it in a sense that it is a figure. It's exactly what a mother would commonly think when she argues with her child over something, she would think what her son/daughter (in his/her teenage) thinks and wants is childish/childlike. Most times, mothers negate and say what they want for their sons and daughters even if it isn't what their children really want. So that is why I had to impose it in this poem, because it states something clichΓ© but still very relatable. On another note, the fallen and falling stars are both figures that signify the sons and daughters who dared of choosing their own path in very hope of a better definition of their identity and risked for a destination even in the possibility that they could be lost or broken in the process. Then the undersea would be a metaphor or a figure of the world we currently have, a world opposite to the sky, far from where the stars dwell, figuratively a place where falling stars go. But still, can be a place that can be called a home. So that's it. Enstring everything together and TA DAAAH! Lol.
°°°
On a serious note, my dear weirdos, it matters to follow our hearts and seek for answers and affirmation to questions that put us in crisis especially if identity is concerned, even if it meant that we have to not follow what our mother would assertively say, mothers are not always right. And even if it meant that we have to leave the house we dwell in and the family that we share it with. Most times it is worth the shot. We'd be there soon. It's really not like we're leaving home. Home is certainly a feeling, not necessarily a place. And home will always be within us only when we've truly found who we really are.

Pardon me for the long note. Anyway, thanks for reading. Happy Sunday. :'>
Even a full moon would shatter unto the surface of
a dark, deep sea.
Then what light could go through
when a deeper darkness
is in me?
On a bus late at night, while the fullness of the moon warped as it reflected on the sea, I think of the darkness in every one of us.
 Jul 2019 Gamaliel
nadine shane
your name will forever linger on my mouth,
immeshing the dust within the fragile pages of a literary classic.

β€œmy eyes were dazed by you for a little, and that was all.”
you saunter freely with romantic words i cannot grasp and call as ours.

my love for you seeps out of the vintage textsβ€”
unfinished; refusing to fill out the blanks and questions.

in vain β€”
that’s what all it was.

no more, no less.
the act of being   FOOLISH.
 Jun 2019 Gamaliel
Marla
Is building Paradise
worth sacrificing
the world
and its humanity?
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