Monday, November 24, 2008

A Familiar Affliction

She sat by the sidewalk, arms over knees
Curiously still, vacant eyes and lucent skin
In her stillness reigned an anesthetized dole
I have seen her this way many times before.

You can't keep on like this.


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Friday, August 17, 2007

Kiss of Treason

Today a friend of 11 years said to me, "You keep running so fast no one can ever keep up with you."

I am fully aware that I have cultivated an abhorrent habit of fleeting the scene before anything has the chance to grow. And since everything we see in the present is a result of history, let's work our way back.

Every beginning has an ending, it is with this knowledge that we begin to grasp the very essence of life. I have long come to terms with loss, but a long-lived relationship that ceases abruptly as a result of infidelity belongs to another category altogether.

It is ugly. It is unquestionably despicable. It is treachery at its worst. And it makes me wonder if monogamous vows make any sense at all.


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Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Affaire D'amour

Out, the servants poured
from the fuchsia chamber
As passion ravaged to unfold
upon that satin number
Top to bottom, back to front
An insatiable hunger


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Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Time Traveller

If theories and formulas require hours and days to remember and a mere instant to forget, why do certain memories require neither time nor effort to remember yet an eternity to forget? If the past is merely the future of the present, why does it hold much more in the current present than it did before it came to pass?

If memories were effaceable, what would you erase? If the past was editable, what would you change? If you could time travel, where would you go, who would you see, what would you say, when would you leave?


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Sunday, September 10, 2006

Back to Basics

When I was a child, sitting at my corner in the balcony on my stool with alphabets A-Z scribbled on the exteriors, I used to ponder: If I chased a sparrow long enough, would I too be able to fly? If I turned the hands on a clock, would I be able to forward/reverse time? If I stared at mom's goldfish long enough, would I be able to read its mind? And if I held daddy's globe on my palm, would I own the land, the seas, and the sky?

As we grow older we tend to question less, about the world, about life. Through print and our experiences, we assume we hold all the answers. Knowledge seems to beget power, but often, with knowledge thoughts become fixated, scopes narrowed, allowing little room for a second opinion. Perhaps we ought to learn from children, the wide-eyed wonders we once were, to embrace this world once more as when it was new.


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Monday, June 12, 2006

Fragility

Sporadically, the morning cajoles me away from my sweet slumber like a risque lover. In the semi darkness of the room I quiver, feeling the softness of the sheets warm against my skin. With the light of a flame, all begins to fill with a familiar scent, sending the blood pumping through my veins, twice as fast. Stepping out onto the balcony, a new day has begun its glory. Without the aid of lenses, I peer into a sea of pastel blur. With my fatigued frame leaned fast against the railings, I embrace the hustle of automobiles and human activity, through the tar to the building to my heart.


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Thursday, March 23, 2006

Writers Guild

It was where homosapiens hustled incessantly like locusts, where the humidity level was vexatiously high, where the sun's ireful rays made it inexecutable to travel on au naturel feet. It was known in its time as the reign of the Sun God.

Most conformed, comfortable in a system and culture of the world they believed they were born into. Few seeked a way out, a ticket, to an entirely different plain they knew existed. A world of stark contrasts from its exertive counterpart, where they could sojourn, to nurture their especial art in an unperturbed milieu. Where nirvana stood two steps closer. Where a coterie of sui generis satirists traded - days for nights.


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Monday, February 20, 2006

1968: A Tribute

As night withered away to the birth of a new day, my vision clouded with myriads of blurry faces and the adolescent phrases, much of which have faded with time, in black and white. Amidst the disarray, a certain memory re-surfaced, fresh as yesterday.

A nostalgic picture of two girls, playing on a quaint school piano a melodic duet stemming from 1968. Where the love of keys and songs of praise brought both into the arms of grace. Now miles away in Vancouver I pray you're reading this, for heaven-sents like you are few and far between.


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Tuesday, October 11, 2005

These Storybook Villas

Immersed in multiple thoughts, dusk till dawn. A whirlpool of recollections, the occasional reminisce. The year's coming to a closure, it's almost premature.

Morning greetings, sweet earth.

As the sun's beams danced through these cream curtains, a symphony of dawn chorus sounded through the ivory walls. The busy streets abuzz with automobiles, the lazy stillness within, peering through glass windows, a different picture.

An elderly couple by the poolside, hand in hand, in shared wrinkles and crow's feet, paradise lived. And there were, young men and women, smart clothes and suitcases, leaving the vicinity with quickened steps, air in the hair, wearing frowns on their crowns.

Where to?

While gravity chains the body close to the ground, the spirit spells free. Often, my soul steals vacations to higher places. Levitations to the cosmos, and further.


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Sunday, August 14, 2005

Rebirth

The field of wildflowers blossomed in their time, dancing in unison to a melancholic swan song. Then seasons changed, to a different hue.

In place is an ocean of fresh crimson poppies, delightful porters of summer's amorous scent. Delicate beings of fragility, kept safe and secret in the inmost recesses of a healing heart.

A labyrinth of emotions, intangible.


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