Wow...I can say the darnest things!

A Living Numbness

2009-01-08T18:47:00.014+08:00

(History: I was reading articles on the Israeli attacks in Gaza so I really just need to get things of f my chest... but I do know well that this doesn't solve anything...I don't have the answers.)

I’m a bi-product of leisure, blessed with fortunate circumstances.

Most of my years have been spent in a soft, unmarred palm.

But why am I never content?

My eyes rove, studying infinities and the brutally finite.

I see these and those overtaken by waves of tragedy.

I glimpse and breathe the air that burns and suffocates.

But why do I feel so unattached to it all?

Why can’t I reach out?

Why can’t I care?

Why can’t I feel an inner breaking?

Why? Why? WHY?!

I need an answer.

But all I have is a grating silence that dwells in all.

It settles in tandem with white noise, blaring in my consciousness.

And I realize that my heart has stopped beating.

My humanity lies dead.

Gone.

Teaching

2008-12-13T09:36:00.005+08:00

(History: Hung out with some students of mine days ago, who were asking me about my feelings towards my job. I don't remember my answer really, but I've thought of their questions again today. This is a second attempt at an answer.)

Teaching

The week starts with the bang of books,
and the tap! clap! tap! sound of heels on the corridors.
Efforts are made by the maestro (or maestra in this case),
to jerk young minds out of a daze; lucky if it works.
Answers are forced or burped out unwillingly from cobwebbed mouths,
that aren't put to much use really.
Cramps start happening in the brainbox,
and its torture as you try to squeeze something out it.
Heightened feelings of uncertainty and stress slap one's face on a Monday, and you start wishing for Friday.
Incredibly, the week gets better and you learn to see the fun
in having a partly zoned out, half-way active crowd.
Never-ending questions are thrown your way by a curious audience,
and you have a blast keeping them in your basket.
Got to admit though! By the end of a week,
it hits you that the job has its perks and you're loving it!

Margarita's Passage

2008-11-14T20:00:00.013+08:00

(History: For some reason, this day made me think of my grandmother (from my mother's side). I never met her since she died rather young, and tragically at that. She went through A LOT. I know that. Living at a time where everything was arranged and there was no such thing as "making your own decisions", she clawed her way out of the earthbound hell she had been tossed in. For all that, I just thought she ought to be remembered by one of the many grand daughters she never met. To grandma Tangay: La, I've written your story...)

Margarita's Passage

She handed her beating heart

to a young man in high school,

who gave his own right back.

This at the young age of sixteen,

blossomed into a sublime dream

for two souls that thought –

I am his. I am hers.

Time seemed infinite

and their oneness inseperable.

By each other’s side they breathed,

hands enfolded so that their fingers

meshed like liquid gold,

as they basked under the fulgent sun.

Two figures sat unmoving on the azotea.

But the hands of change came

thrashing and raging unhindered,

to filter one from the other.

For of their destinies they had no hold of,

and their happiness was not theirs for the taking.

Daylight shifted into a semblance of something

unrecognizable, distant, and finally, was gone.

Her palms were pulled with force,

grasped tight in familial thorns

and another who cared wrongly.

Until finally, the delicate limbs

got caught in between wrought-iron wires

secretly marred by rust and a pungent tang.

She lost her smile that day.

A scar was carved.

Then another. Until pale skin

stood out, swollen and caked

in dirt and dried blood.

She cried for herself, and for him,

even as she bore the pain

of childbirth and a loveless companionship.

Such deep-seated torment filled her being,

that even the lives she bore gave no comfort.

Too much became unbearable,

and so the tortured ran afar

to scour for what had slipped away.

Thus dark was the walkway she followed,

riddled with moments of aimless wandering.

Then she met her past,

and the road that lay ahead seemed

brighter for a time.

But he was but a shadow

of what he was before,

just as she had lost that vivacity,

that once drew them together.

However different they both were,

let go of hopes they could not.

She stayed by his side,

even as he left her crying, rarely looking back.

He gave her glimpses and only that

for his heart had already been cut into three -

self-inflicted by a dulled razor.

She bore him gifts, and he sent her bread.

At times, he’d let her see him... touch him.

But they were wraiths of their former selves

slowly fading from this world.

She left soon after, mauled from her own life.

Her man hovered, only to finally follow,

with unseeing eyes and a dimming last word - You.

For Jo

2008-11-13T21:54:00.006+08:00

(History: I read a friend's latest blog and wanted to give her this gift. To my dear friend - It's not much, but I hope you read and like it. If you pay a close enough attention, there's a secret message. Just look at the first letter of each line.)

For Jo

Yes. Life is hard.
Our paths are laid out
under the cover of eventide.

When light ebbs away to hide,
instances do dwindle and search an end, but...
lived you have to the fullest;
loved you have without borders, so to you I say:

Banish the worries for they have no worth.
Enemies will fade just as dusk does.

Opened truly will your real trail be,
know that you'll walk on lush steps of joie de vivre.
Amity in all its forms shall tread very near, and then...
you'll be okay.

Hey Boss!

2008-11-13T16:41:00.015+08:00

(History: Just got out of a meeting with my center...'twas frustrating, so here's a piece of my mind =D)

Hey Boss!

One, two, three.
With the empty-headed office staff, completely agree.
Four, five, six.
Have stubborn bastards and know-it-alls in the mix.
Seven, eight, nine.
Avoid sense and reason, then pretend you're fine.
Ten, eleven, twelve.
look at non-existent problems for you to delve.

Is it over?
No.

thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
Here's a spoon! Please scrape out your spleen.

There. We're done.
You're dead now.

How to catch Zs

2008-11-12T22:50:00.010+08:00

(History: Let me tell you how to sleep the Tonie way!)

How to catch Zs

Close
the windows and
bury your body,
underneath
goose feathers.

Set father time
for tomorrow;
maybe 4 or
5 AM and
count 'til you fade.

Drop
eyelids down
slowly,
over weary
pools of black

and sleep.

A, 3, X, 5, 10...What's next again?

2008-11-11T18:44:00.016+08:00

(History: Got home after a long day, brain dead. I couldn't think of anything to write about, but this was what ran through my squished pea-sized brain.)

A, 3, X, 5, 10...What's next again?

Hmmm...um...hmmm...my apologies.
The upper story's blank;
I'd like to tell you cock-and-bull funnies,
but I'm so tired, yours truly'd rather walk the plank.

Eyes peeled open by an abstract scalpel,
I decided to kill my insides with battery acid.
Reader...audience, by now I know you're thinking - What the hell?!
Don't worry! I'm okay. I'm L-U-C-I-D. I am lucid.

At the finish line, which was 12 hours later,
two was thought to be three and left became right.
Words turned into numbers, my mouth let out nothing but gibber.
-ISH. Sorry...gibber-ISH. Damn! See? Good night.

8 AM

2008-11-09T08:06:00.005+08:00

(History: 8am, tuesday. A cold autumn morning and I had nothing but summer clothes. How stupid can I get?)
8 AM

Sniff.
Mornings are
not for me.

Cough!
Arctic temps
freeze my lungs up.

Brrr...
slept with ice
woke up with it too.

I was...wait...I never was.

2008-11-08T10:51:00.007+08:00

(History: I was talking to a friend about some of the most exciting moments of her life. It made me think of my moments...regretted realities and imagined ones as well.)

I was...wait...I never was.

While taking a leisurely stroll just outside my house, a car stopped and this hot, sexy guy got out. Great tan, 6 foot 2 and yummy. Ooh La la! Huge flirt that I am, I flashed him my best smile, AND of course! He smiled back and we ended up striking a conversation right outside my gate. A week later, we went out on a date that ended with a steamy make-out session.

Oh...wait. THAT didn't happen. THIS was what really happened. Hot guy got out of his car and my dog let out this loud barking mad howl, which definitely got his attention. He set his eyes on poor little me and asked, "Hey there! You wouldn't know where Nancy lives, would you? I'm supposed to pick her up for our date tonight."

Sigh. I wish I was Nancy.

Well then, let me tell you about something else. My old boss. She was the greatest! If you're looking for the perfect employer, she was IT. Considerate, knew how to motivate her staff, generous, blah, blah and blah. I could spout odes to her - in spades - for a week if I want to.

Sorry. For a moment there, I lost my hippocampus. She was perfect...NOT! Horrifying - that is probably one of the most apt descriptions to fit her kind. Her person was so horrific, just remembering her makes me cringe - Urk! - and choke. Unless you want an employer who hands you failed projects she has messed up, and uses you as an off-site and on-site forcefield, then better keep away from "Bad Bosses Anonymous"- she's the president.

Why the hell did I work for her anyway? Oh yeah. I was being my normally smart self.

Oooh you will love this one! My university friends and I decided to hit the bar and fish for exotic marine life in the exciting dark world of liquid beer and other strong alcohol, peppered up with cancer-carrying smoke. We had a blast and we each brought home a hottie to play with for the night.

STOP! wait...that wasn't it. We hit the bar, I got drunk, my friends started to do the river dance - that means they got drunk too - but I had no idea! I remember seeing dwarves and dinosaurs, then I think my face met my feet, I hit my head somewhere and fell unconscious. Woke up still in the bar and what do you know? Everyone was gone. So I called my dad and got a tongue-lashing that could win the Oscars. What a night.

Lesson learned? dwarves and dinosaurs don't like each other.

I think , with my brain working funny and making me recall these award-winning achievements of the past,that I desperately need a brilliant inventor out there to work in his lab and just stay there until he invents something useful.

Like a time-turner.

While drowning myself in caffeine one January evening...

2008-11-08T10:15:00.000+08:00

INTROSPECTION

People chatter.

persons walked to and fro

noticing none

and knowing zilch;

I’m cold.

Streetlights flicker.

Off and on then off

never to come back.

I’m cold.

My sanctuary no longer,

The darkness hides

secrets kept

and stories untold.

I’m cold.

I’m scared.

Spheres to Contemplate

2008-11-08T10:10:00.000+08:00

Poetry on "One of THOSE Days"…

M.J. CUENCO STREET

Pounding heat descends.
The roar of native autos
clash with paths of gravel and tar,
as summer says hello.

INVISIBLE VENEER

Four walls surround
images and people seemingly sacrosanct;
hyprocrisy dwells and hides
beneath fatigue-ridden hearts
and souls in a world of stillness.
Language reflects the cosmos
and wonder breezes by.
Nothing stops.