the swirling clouds are above me
the trees rustle their leaves in the wind
and I am imprisoned in this chair
with bare feet on the cold concrete floor
i wait for your touch to unbind me.
your touch to remind me
to find me
my eyes follow your footsteps until
they are consumed by the sand
my hearing fails me; your voice is lost in the wailing wind
i cower, and brace myself from the onslaught of your absence
wanting more for you to reclaim me
for you to proclaim me
to tame me
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Sunday, July 02, 2006
ramified poetry
“Hello?”
“Chris? I know it’s you. Don’t hang up, please. Let me just get this one out. I know I’ve promised you many things, promises I just couldn’t keep. I don’t know how to say I’m sorry, but I am. I really am.”
“Tell me it’s not you, Jim…”
God knows how much I wanted that conversation to stop. I couldn’t stand it, the pain his voice brings. I can barely remember his face, but flashbacks from my yesteryears gave me a glimpse of how he looked. He was from long ago, a very long time ago. My name was still Tin-tin back then. We were two young souls growing in the hustle-bustle of Paranaque. He was my playmate, my friend, and a little time later, my first love. They say first loves die hard. I guess it’s only true when you remember him with joy, happiness and love.
“Tell me it’s not you Jim. Please. It’s not the same anymore.”
“Chris, it is me. I want us to be back like we were before.”
“There is no us, Jim. There never was. I only made it up.”
Throughout my high school life he was there; my confidante at times my teacher embarrass me at classs, my researcher for my assignments, my constant lunch date, even my streetcrossing companion. Maybe that was when I fell for him. In college, there wasn’t much I could do to tell him what I felt. One time or two, when he was drunk, he would tell me things I’d rather him say when he was sober. In anyway, it still made my heart jump.
I loved him then. I remember now. I did. He was the world to me; he was everything that mattered. The day he said he loved me too was the sweetest day I could remember. My birthday didn’t even come close. It was a day I thought would last forever. Regrettably, it didn’t.
“There never was an ‘us’, Jim. I created it out of my own imagination. I pulled it out of the clouds. You were never there.”
“But Christine, there were just too many things I couldn’t handle. Things both of us never thought would happen.”
The next scene that flashed before me was something that squeezed my heart tight. It was almost Christmas, my first Christmas after college. My life was perfect then. I had a good job, I had a good apartment, and I had Jim. And I had the perfect gift for him that Christmas. Yet, that day was the day that his knife struck my life. There was just cold ice in my stare on what I saw as I opened his apartment’s door. It was some other woman wrapped around my man’s arm. Jim. My Jim.
That was the last I saw him. That day left a mark on my heart so indelible that hate was hardly the word to describe what I’ve sown and tendered into full bloom. It made a scar so deep that no amount of time could ever heal it. I had the perfect gift for him, wrapped by my body.
“No, Jim.”
“Chris, I know you could find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you Chris. I know you still love me too. Just give me another chance. Please, I’m begging you, please.”
“Six years is long enough. I’ve already turned the pages, Jim. Leave me alone.”
“Why are you crying, mommy? Who was that?”
“Nobody, sweetie. Nobody.”
I had the perfect gift for you, Jim --- your son.
“Chris? I know it’s you. Don’t hang up, please. Let me just get this one out. I know I’ve promised you many things, promises I just couldn’t keep. I don’t know how to say I’m sorry, but I am. I really am.”
“Tell me it’s not you, Jim…”
God knows how much I wanted that conversation to stop. I couldn’t stand it, the pain his voice brings. I can barely remember his face, but flashbacks from my yesteryears gave me a glimpse of how he looked. He was from long ago, a very long time ago. My name was still Tin-tin back then. We were two young souls growing in the hustle-bustle of Paranaque. He was my playmate, my friend, and a little time later, my first love. They say first loves die hard. I guess it’s only true when you remember him with joy, happiness and love.
“Tell me it’s not you Jim. Please. It’s not the same anymore.”
“Chris, it is me. I want us to be back like we were before.”
“There is no us, Jim. There never was. I only made it up.”
Throughout my high school life he was there; my confidante at times my teacher embarrass me at classs, my researcher for my assignments, my constant lunch date, even my streetcrossing companion. Maybe that was when I fell for him. In college, there wasn’t much I could do to tell him what I felt. One time or two, when he was drunk, he would tell me things I’d rather him say when he was sober. In anyway, it still made my heart jump.
I loved him then. I remember now. I did. He was the world to me; he was everything that mattered. The day he said he loved me too was the sweetest day I could remember. My birthday didn’t even come close. It was a day I thought would last forever. Regrettably, it didn’t.
“There never was an ‘us’, Jim. I created it out of my own imagination. I pulled it out of the clouds. You were never there.”
“But Christine, there were just too many things I couldn’t handle. Things both of us never thought would happen.”
The next scene that flashed before me was something that squeezed my heart tight. It was almost Christmas, my first Christmas after college. My life was perfect then. I had a good job, I had a good apartment, and I had Jim. And I had the perfect gift for him that Christmas. Yet, that day was the day that his knife struck my life. There was just cold ice in my stare on what I saw as I opened his apartment’s door. It was some other woman wrapped around my man’s arm. Jim. My Jim.
That was the last I saw him. That day left a mark on my heart so indelible that hate was hardly the word to describe what I’ve sown and tendered into full bloom. It made a scar so deep that no amount of time could ever heal it. I had the perfect gift for him, wrapped by my body.
“No, Jim.”
“Chris, I know you could find it in your heart to forgive me. I love you Chris. I know you still love me too. Just give me another chance. Please, I’m begging you, please.”
“Six years is long enough. I’ve already turned the pages, Jim. Leave me alone.”
“Why are you crying, mommy? Who was that?”
“Nobody, sweetie. Nobody.”
I had the perfect gift for you, Jim --- your son.
Friday, June 23, 2006
far behind
Now maybe
I didn’t mean to treat you bad,
But I did it anyway
David let his right arm rest on the sheets next to him. He felt the smooth silk rub against his skin. His clock says its 5:58 in the morning, two whole minutes before the time he set it to sound off. He closed his eyes, imagined that Claire was still there in that empty space on his bed that he woke up to today. But she was nowhere there.
His head ached, probably from lack of liquid, water perhaps. He tried to remember where he was the night before. Oh yes, he went drinking, for no apparent reasons, except that he was lonely, and alone. He lay there on his bed long after the alarm had sounded off. He listened to it a little, admiring the rhythmic melody alarm clocks make in the heads of half-awakes. Then he slammed his fist on it to shut it up. It didn’t break though, and he didn’t want it too. It wasn’t its fault that Claire wasn’t there next to him.
Now maybe
Some would say your life was sad
But you lived it anyway
David washed his head with cold water. He looked at himself in the mirror, letting the droplets trickle down his cheeks. What he saw was horrible. His eyes had grown deep, and hollow orbs stood in their places. It’s been four months now since he last heard from Claire. Her last words were spoken at a higher decibel level than he had remembered, and then silence, except for the sound of her car speeding away. In the reflection in the mirror David can see where her right hand landed as a token of her last affection for him. It still hurts, even after three months. But the pain wasn’t in the flesh: it was in his heart.
So maybe
Your friends will stand around, they’ll watch you crumble
As you falter to the ground
He reached for his phone and checked if there were any messages. There were no new ones, only sympathetic forwarded messages from friends telling him how strong a rock he should be, or how a new morning will come for him, or how they’re going to meet up tonight for some time in the bar and pick up chicks. I’m still lucky, he thought, that there are still people dumb enough to send me messages, somehow that consoles. But it was Claire he wanted. It was her messages that David wished he was reading. It was her he wanted on the other side of that phone talking to him. But there was silence. Unwelcome silence.
And then someday we could take our time
To brush the leaves aside so you can reach us
Yeah but you left me far behind
Now maybe, didn’t mean to treat you oh so bad
But I did it anyway
Now maybe
Some would say you’re left with what you have
But you couldn’t share the pain yeah no no no
David stepped into a brand new shirt and pants, and into a new pair of shoes he had just bought. He had to close this chapter of his life, and start a new one. Because he’s sure, Claire had stepped out.
but you left me far behind
left me far behind
left me far behind
I didn’t mean to treat you bad,
But I did it anyway
David let his right arm rest on the sheets next to him. He felt the smooth silk rub against his skin. His clock says its 5:58 in the morning, two whole minutes before the time he set it to sound off. He closed his eyes, imagined that Claire was still there in that empty space on his bed that he woke up to today. But she was nowhere there.
His head ached, probably from lack of liquid, water perhaps. He tried to remember where he was the night before. Oh yes, he went drinking, for no apparent reasons, except that he was lonely, and alone. He lay there on his bed long after the alarm had sounded off. He listened to it a little, admiring the rhythmic melody alarm clocks make in the heads of half-awakes. Then he slammed his fist on it to shut it up. It didn’t break though, and he didn’t want it too. It wasn’t its fault that Claire wasn’t there next to him.
Now maybe
Some would say your life was sad
But you lived it anyway
David washed his head with cold water. He looked at himself in the mirror, letting the droplets trickle down his cheeks. What he saw was horrible. His eyes had grown deep, and hollow orbs stood in their places. It’s been four months now since he last heard from Claire. Her last words were spoken at a higher decibel level than he had remembered, and then silence, except for the sound of her car speeding away. In the reflection in the mirror David can see where her right hand landed as a token of her last affection for him. It still hurts, even after three months. But the pain wasn’t in the flesh: it was in his heart.
So maybe
Your friends will stand around, they’ll watch you crumble
As you falter to the ground
He reached for his phone and checked if there were any messages. There were no new ones, only sympathetic forwarded messages from friends telling him how strong a rock he should be, or how a new morning will come for him, or how they’re going to meet up tonight for some time in the bar and pick up chicks. I’m still lucky, he thought, that there are still people dumb enough to send me messages, somehow that consoles. But it was Claire he wanted. It was her messages that David wished he was reading. It was her he wanted on the other side of that phone talking to him. But there was silence. Unwelcome silence.
And then someday we could take our time
To brush the leaves aside so you can reach us
Yeah but you left me far behind
Now maybe, didn’t mean to treat you oh so bad
But I did it anyway
Now maybe
Some would say you’re left with what you have
But you couldn’t share the pain yeah no no no
David stepped into a brand new shirt and pants, and into a new pair of shoes he had just bought. He had to close this chapter of his life, and start a new one. Because he’s sure, Claire had stepped out.
but you left me far behind
left me far behind
left me far behind
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
untitled: all i can do was shake my head and smile
Jason stretched his legs on the green grass. He stared at the small pond in front of him, squinted a little when the light glistening on its surface reflected into his eyes. The sun was beating down on everything around him, and the shade of that big tree gave him shelter. At least he was safe even temporarily. But he has something else beating down on him, one that he cannot find shelter from no matter where he goes. Jason was suffering the pain of someone leaving, someone who took part of him away. He can never be whole again.
Jason leaned back, his two legs out in front and his weight rested on his two outstretched arms at the back. He let his face against a soft breeze that came from the pond. He imagined them to be Cathy’s breath and a soft kiss would follow. There was no kiss, just a rustle of grass. Near the shore Jason counted little waves that hit like seconds passing. Like him, time was only waiting to be finished.
He fished a small locket from his left pocket. He let it dangle in his fingers for a while, staring at it and playing with it like a little boy with a spider on a stick. He watched as the locket swung on its chain. It was a silver likeness of a dolphin that has just hopped out of the water. Cathy had a thing for dolphins, and this was hers. Jason remembered how she had given him this locket, to be a remembrance of sorts. But it turned out to be a goodbye token, something that Jason found too heavy to drag along. He opened it, and inside was her name scratched on it. Cathy scratched it herself, adding that it would be more personal, more intimate, more sincere.
“It’s over now Cathy.” Jason said under an incomplete breath. He stared straight into nowhere, his mind somewhere else, drowned in thoughts of her. He saw her there, running on the grass, wading on the shore next to the tied up boat. She would glance on him, and her hair would fly with the wind. She was very beautiful, that even a rainy day seemed perfect for a picnic. Cathy would simply light the whole world up. His visions of her brought tears to his eyes, and he closed them just in time before some fell. He cannot cry, must not cry. He promised her that. He would take it like a man, and be strong. His loneliness is eating him inside.
Jason wiped his eyes with his forehand, still clutching the locket in his left palm. He laid the locket down on the grass to his right, and the single red rose that he had brought along. “I will never forget you, and I will never stop loving you. But now, I have to move on.” Jason bent down and kissed the ground. A tear fell on Cathy’s grave.
He stood up and walked away.
writers note: the above story is fictitious and bears no reference to any real person or events. any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Jason leaned back, his two legs out in front and his weight rested on his two outstretched arms at the back. He let his face against a soft breeze that came from the pond. He imagined them to be Cathy’s breath and a soft kiss would follow. There was no kiss, just a rustle of grass. Near the shore Jason counted little waves that hit like seconds passing. Like him, time was only waiting to be finished.
He fished a small locket from his left pocket. He let it dangle in his fingers for a while, staring at it and playing with it like a little boy with a spider on a stick. He watched as the locket swung on its chain. It was a silver likeness of a dolphin that has just hopped out of the water. Cathy had a thing for dolphins, and this was hers. Jason remembered how she had given him this locket, to be a remembrance of sorts. But it turned out to be a goodbye token, something that Jason found too heavy to drag along. He opened it, and inside was her name scratched on it. Cathy scratched it herself, adding that it would be more personal, more intimate, more sincere.
“It’s over now Cathy.” Jason said under an incomplete breath. He stared straight into nowhere, his mind somewhere else, drowned in thoughts of her. He saw her there, running on the grass, wading on the shore next to the tied up boat. She would glance on him, and her hair would fly with the wind. She was very beautiful, that even a rainy day seemed perfect for a picnic. Cathy would simply light the whole world up. His visions of her brought tears to his eyes, and he closed them just in time before some fell. He cannot cry, must not cry. He promised her that. He would take it like a man, and be strong. His loneliness is eating him inside.
Jason wiped his eyes with his forehand, still clutching the locket in his left palm. He laid the locket down on the grass to his right, and the single red rose that he had brought along. “I will never forget you, and I will never stop loving you. But now, I have to move on.” Jason bent down and kissed the ground. A tear fell on Cathy’s grave.
He stood up and walked away.
writers note: the above story is fictitious and bears no reference to any real person or events. any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantmentit is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
(Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952) thanks to tiffany salazar
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantmentit is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
(Max Ehrmann, Desiderata, Copyright 1952) thanks to tiffany salazar
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