No Rhyme. No Reason.

My Other Language

2012-01-10T20:13:00.000-08:00

Hey, you're here.
I don't come here often.
Because the poet in me cannot be prodded.
Cannot be cajoled.
Cannot be directed.
Cannot even be bribed.

She stays inert.
Skimming below the surface,
Just observing,
Sensing,
Teasing,
Lurking silently,
Listening stealthily.

And then when she decides to wake up
And show up
And show off,
She just spews out words,
An outpouring of thoughts,
Gut spill, and heart bursts.

Rhyme and reason optional.
Eschewing the usual rational
Being who prefers prose,
The language the other she understands
With structure she can control.

But poetry-
It's a different animal.
Scary,
Undisciplined,
Raw,
Leaving her vulnerable.
Her insides exposed.
Her masks removed.

And then suddenly,
It just ceases,
Just like that.

Stifling

2011-12-07T22:28:00.001-08:00

It doesn't take much
for a memory to resurface
a realization of loss to interrupt a moment
a longing to linger
an ache to assert itself

And in the middle of running to and fro
of idle thinking
or proactive doing

In a moment of solitude
or in the midst of a mob
in the act of living
in the business of breathing

An emotion gurgles
from a visceral place
Surprising
Shocking
Awaking a feeling indescribable

And I stifle a sob
retract a tear
suffocate a sigh
It only takes a moment
It doesn't take much

Grasping

2011-09-27T22:03:00.000-07:00

Grasping for miracles

to bring back what is lost

Grasping for answers

to explain the meaning

behind the pain

Grasping for breath

as sobs engulf my lungs

Grasping for a vision

behind the haze of tears

Grasping for God

to hold my hand

as I drown in sorrow

Grasping to to stay afloat

as my body is weighed down

by a heart that feels like a ton of bricks

Grasping for love

and finding it in family and friends

Grasping for hope

Grasping for sleep

Grasping for rest

Grasping for silence

in a mind that never stops making noise

Grasping for noise

when all around is silence

and sadness and emptiness

Grasping for light

in a day made darker by a storm

Grasping her hand

and willing her to come back

Grasping for life

Grasping for control

Grasping for yesterday

for memories dulled by an addled mind

Grasping for joy

Grasping for peace

Grasping for comfort

Grasping for something to numb the pain

Grasping for normalcy

Grasping for strength

not just to stay standing

but to prop others too

Grasping to survive

Breathing

Inhaling

Exhaling

Taking one listless step

after another

Moving just to stop from collapsing

Hoping that someday

I will be more than just

grasping

Do you?

2011-06-19T09:52:00.000-07:00

Do you ever feel your chest about to burst

Just out of sheer affection

For that person in front of you

Oblivious

Do you ever want to shout out

This person’s mine

This person chose me

Regardless

Do you ever stop your hand

From just touching to assure yourself

That person’s there

Staying

Do you ever hear your heart groan

Aching for more

Hungry for something

Unfathomable

Do you ever gnash your teeth

Wanting to be more than you can be

Better, prettier, sweeter

Desperately

Do you ever feel regret

That you weren’t always there

To understand the history behind the person

You now see

Do you ever feel your eyes fog up

Just at the thought of losing someone

Who means more than life

To you

Do you ever wonder how long

A lifetime you still have

To spend, to relish

Together

Do you?

Because sometimes,

Often,

Okay, once in a while,

I do

And if you didn’t

It would be just so sad

For me

And you

Two Angels

2011-04-20T08:01:00.000-07:00

About my friend A, whose father has never told his other children that he has another daughter.

Blood binds them
Ignorance divides them
Fears and lies hide them from the joys of connection
And the likely pains of revelation
Alone, detached from flesh and blood
She aches for a kinship denied
And wonders who knows
And questions who cares
Their father’s sin
From ages ago
Unconfessed , Unresolved
Yet still potent in its power to hurt
To deprive

To connect?
Or not?
That is the question the breaks the heart.
To reveal
To conceal
That’s the decision that may liberate
Or may scathe
Two angels apart
One knows
One lingers in a haze
One waits, her wings clipped
One unaware
The man that connects them
In perpetual denial
In a coward’s cloud

The Gap

2010-12-24T00:53:00.001-08:00

In a sea of white
You spot the speck of gray
In a world of rights
You watch the bit that's wrong
Of the things I've done
You ask about the one I didn't
What I want to do
You delight in telling me not to

Does it make you fulfilled
To notice the fault
Does it make you feel superior
To detect the errors
Do you find joy
In killing mine
Does reminding me of my flaws
Justify yours
Does clipping my wings
Free you from the pressure of your own flight
Does keeping me from shining
Excuse you from seeking your own light

You focus on the gap
You seek what's missing
You fail to see what's there
What's good, what's pleasing
You zoom in on the worst of me
And highlight the parts I want to hide
You uncover those
I need to deny

Yes, perfect I am not
And for praises I whore
They're just cheap words
Yet you give so little
The economy of your flattery
Is the hunger of my soul

Son

2010-12-19T20:06:00.000-08:00

Would you have been a writer
Or a call center agent
Or somebody who insisted
On being neither of his parents

Would you have been creative
Like mom, a spaced out artist
Or would you have been street smart
Like dad, a pragmatist

Would you have been a rebellious teenager
Driving, moving under some bad influence
Or would you have been a good son
Blessed with perfectly good sense

You probably would be chubby
Not too big, not too tall
Maybe just a little bit athletic
Chances are, you could not sing at all

You would break my heart
Every time you get sick or hurt
You would break my face into a smile
With your charm, your mirth

Surely you would have dimples
And a laugh that can get others laughing too
Surely you'll be assured
I would spend my life loving you

Would you mind it so much
If my tired, achy heart stops hoping
And my long-empty womb stops waiting
Because the years have not stopped me from aging

Son, I loved you before I could meet you
I wanted you long before I could bear children
And even now as hope wavers and desire tapers
I still ask if not now, then when

The Last Time I Was in Love

2010-12-12T08:29:00.000-08:00

With envy I look
At young new lovers crazy in love
Naïve, clueless, fresh
Untouched by real pain
of real life
and unreal love
Unaware of hurts that lurk
and gash one’s heart
When one so loved
Stops loving back
or wavers and betrays

With jaded eyes I see
Silly love
Foolish hopes
Stupid smiles
Adoration unabashed
I smirk thinking someday
You’ll be hurt too
Beyond belief
Heart shattered
Illusions destroyed forever

With the wisdom of pain I gaze
At him who has
shattered my heart
Destroyed my illusions forever
Wavered, hurt, betrayed
And my old, badly bruised heart melts
My weathered face breaks into a stupid smile
Reflecting foolish hope and silly love
Loving beyond belief
Even after a history of forgiven hurts

The last time I was in love was only minutes ago
Not in the clueless fashion of ages ago
Jaded I guess I am not
Foolish I may be
Envious of youth I remain
But love recurs
Concurs
Forgives
Rarely forgets
But to the last, I will love

Sarah's Pains

2010-11-21T18:48:00.000-08:00

Nobody admiring me

Nobody's excited by me

Listening to Henry

Fossilizing under the drip of conversation

Living under an illusion

That allows me to forget

That I'm a bitch and a fake

paraphrased from Graham Greene's The End of the Affair

image stolen from here.

Mayfly

2010-10-25T01:21:00.000-07:00

Gossamer wings
Showing things
Behind and underneath
Filtering light
Blurring colors
But not concealing
Just hinting
Revealing more than what they're hiding
But where is the mayfly
Is it there
Is it real
Is it something
Of is it just what is behind it
Does it disappear to what is beneath
Gossamer wings flitting
Blending
Disappearing
Diminishing to nothing

(Haven't written poetry in a while. Rusty.)

In response to a prompt from Every Photo Tells a Story.

Photo by Rizo Tarum

Simile

2010-04-05T01:37:00.000-07:00

I was reading Tristine Rainer's The New Diary, and I worked on one of the journal starter suggestions -- to write a simile about yourself, about my now. And this is what I came up with.

I am old clay
Slowly losing its malleability
Yet still unformed
Colors all mixed up to a murky gray
Misshapen mass of past mistakes and do-agains
Mashed by many hands
Bits and pieces lost forever
Still there but not quite
Still workable but not for long

No Face in the Crowd

2009-12-07T04:38:00.000-08:00

NO FACE IN THE CROWD

Anonymity plagues me
To be merely a shape
A creature ordinary
In a crowd of pretty
A mob of fabulous
A herd of superiority
With all the trappings of success

Insecurity hounds me
To be merely a shadow
Of somebody once pretty
Fabulous, superior,
Trapped in narrow ideas of success
And illusions of becoming
Bigger, better than I could ever be
A face in the crowd
Lost
Invisible
Anonymous

A poem prompted by this blog: Every Photo Tells a Story
inspired by her art: Erin McGuire

Curious

2009-11-17T05:20:00.000-08:00

I look at you
And know not much

What I would give to know
The thoughts behind those eyes
The feelings that drive those thoughts
The life experiences that formed those feelings
Your life before I came
The stories I was not part of
Those times when you were young enough to cry
When you were innocent enough to be true
True enough to be free
Free enough to be you

I look at you and wonder
What you are about
And what I am in relation to you
A convenient prop
That completes the picture?
An obligation, a responsibility
Your sense of decency requires to keep?
The love of your life
Who keeps you whole?
The one who stayed?
The one whom you chose
When you knew no better?

I see your mouth open
Telling me of trivial details
Of the what’s and when’s
When what I want to hear is the why
I feel your arms around me
I feel your warmth
And I know you’re real
I know you’re here
Yet I ache
For something more
Beneath your skin
Between the words

Maybe this is it
All there is to know
Maybe I want too much
And imagine that there’s more
Maybe what I see
Is what I get
And what I get is the best there is
Do I tell my heart
To delight in this
That I should be so lucky
To have you
Flesh and blood
Here and now
And that’s all that there really is?

Unfinished Song (Literally)

2009-06-06T06:38:00.000-07:00

Look outside your window

Step outside your world

Listen to other people

As they share their words

For there’s a world out there

Different from your own

There’s a world out there

Waiting to be known

So step out and learn

Reach out and share

Open your eyes, your ears

Your mind, your heart

For the story of success

Is not played out inside your room

The goal of progress

Is not reached by staying home

If you want world peace

You’ve got to fight the urge to stay

In your little world

Stuck in your good old ways

If you want the world to change

Then you must stir things up

You must move yourself

And reach out

For there’s a world out there

Different from your own

There’s a world out there

Waiting to be known

I Didn't Know You Well Enough

2009-06-01T08:04:00.000-07:00

I didn't know you well enough
Didn't know your favorite color was pink
Didn't know whom you lived with
What you did
When you weren't with me
Who you were
When your guard was down
Beneath the layers
You chose to reveal
What you dreamed of
Ached for
What you're made of

I didn't know you well enough
Didn't have enough of you
Didn't hear enough speeches
Didn't hear enough stories
Didn't spend enough time
Before you left
So abruptly
Too early
Didn't know this was coming

Didn't try hard enough
To reach out to you
To know you
Didn't share all I wanted to tell
Didn't tell all I wanted you to hear
Didn't say goodbye
Didn't get the chance

And now no amount of wishing
Can give me time with you
No amount of regret
Can bring back time

This tragic death
Is suffered not by the one who's gone
But by the ones left behind
Those who didn't know you well enough

A Permanent Stance

2009-05-25T21:18:00.000-07:00

I won't argue with you, my friend.
I will lose; that's the expected end.
I will balk.
I will hesitate.
I will hold back.
For I am not trained to pounce.
Or hurt.
I am not in battle form.
My energies focused elsewhere.
Not on winning,
But on bonding,
On seeking truths,
And reaching out,
On finding common threads
And positions of peace.

And you,
In your permanent stance
Of fight and fear,
Are well versed in battles of wits and words
Your intellect, your arms.
Your condescension, your barbs.
Your mocking tone, your shield.

Don't you get tired?
Don't your fists want to ease up?
Doesn't your back break
And heart ache?
Doesn't your upturned chin and your clenched jaw
Just rob the energy and soul out of you
As you permanently stand
Ready to bite, to hurl, and to fight?

Maybe you think it's cool.
Maybe it's the hard shell you put up in defense.
Maybe you're just giving back life's bad throws.
Maybe somebody did it to you.
Maybe it's just sport
For fun
For the thrill of the win.
But your dour old soul
Makes winning look like no fun at all.

You win.
So what?

Image stolen from http://images.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://www.getkungfu.com/images/stance001.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.getkungfu.com/about.htm&usg=__VJMy4WM9iHqi2seMYsmsftzXYSs=&h=400&w=295&sz=21&hl=en&start=8&um=1&tbnid=GcI0Cjt7RXdSxM:&tbnh=124&tbnw=91&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dkung%2Bfu%2Bstance%26hl%3Den%26sa%3DG%26um%3D1

Repairs Needed

2009-03-26T21:03:00.000-07:00

So many things need repairing.
So many parts missing or aging.
Some parts worn down my by misuse and abuse,
some never used but still falling apart.
Repair seems futile.
A major overhaul perhaps.
An upgrade?
Now, if only I can find the warranty.

In response to the writing prompt of Every Photo Tells a Story

What needs repairing in your life?
What essential steps are needed to get there?

Check out her blog to get inspiration slash coercion to write.

Artwork by Neesha Hunter.

The Blahs

2009-02-21T08:13:00.000-08:00

She waits
In faith
But it does not exempt her
From the ache

She knows
She believes
She prays
But waiting brings much pain

Uncertainty gnaws at her heart
Fear creeps in and makes her doubt
Bitterness wells up
Envy, fear, and the guilt for not believing enough

I wish I could end this with something redeeming
A hopeful thought to lift the cloud
A cliché, a positive slogan
Something, anything to make me believe

But not tonight
Let me not ignore the feeling
I don’t want to brush it under the rug
And deny what eats at me

Another night
Things will be better
But tonight I embrace the hurt
My broken, crumbling faith

Moonstruck

2009-02-15T01:30:00.000-08:00

Couldn't keep the camera still. Blurred world. Motion beyond my control.

No prose. No verses tonight. I just thought this bad photo was visual poetry.

Psalm 14:1

2009-01-18T22:34:00.000-08:00

You think you are so cool
So worldly
Sophisticated
So wise

You strut around with the notion
That you know it all
Are above it all
Immune from old wives' tales

You laugh at and deride
Those who dare to believe
In something bigger
Than what their eyes can see

You label others as fools
For they have so-called crutches
And because they know that
There is more to life than all this

You turn up your nose
At simple folks
In your heart you feel superior
To us, dense, delusional worshipers

You shout you have science on your side
Logic is your weapon
But isn't science about discovery
About an open mind

Smugly, you sneer at the poor soul-less creatures
Believing in the soul
You do a roll call of philosophers who speak
Your finite beliefs

But what do you really have
But a mind too small to accept the great
A heart too barren
A life too empty

Listen, shutting your eyes
Cannot douse the light
Spouting your echoed rhetoric
Cannot kill the truth

What you say is not there
Will not die with your disbelief
I have no debates to offer
I have no arguments

All I have is love
And a prayer
For forgiveness
For you know not what you do

2009

2008-12-30T21:36:00.000-08:00

I want a poem for 2009
I want a voice for my hopes
To versify my dreams
That the passing of years have pushed to urgency
I want to shout, Now
Been waiting for so long
Been lazing and slacking
Hoping things will happen on their own
I want to push what can be moved
I want to change what is screaming to be changed
I want new colors
I want new words
To replace my life's oft-repeated cliches
I want to sing a different tune
I want to drink new wine
I need a sea change
I need to see change
I want to enter a great, spanking new door
And fling open new windows to new worlds
I want to get inside my head
And check out new rooms I've never explored
I want to break old habits
And start good ones
I want to see different faces
On faces I've known for so long
I want to breathe new life to good old things
I want new shoes
I want to drive in roads I've never seen
I want to dive deep
For I've been wading in shallow waters
I want to close my eyes
And discover me
I want to discover a new element
I want to discover the Philippines
As if I were the first one here
I want to see things in a different light
I want to stay put and not be swayed
I want to be moved by passions
Guided by Wisdom
I want a new nose
To see my toes
I want to love deeply
Selflessly
Unflinchingly
I want to take a blank canvas
And paint something that will surprise me
I want to surprise others
With the song I've kept hidden
I want to sleep like others do
When others do
I want to know more about the people I know
I want to read more
I want to serve more
To give more
To be more
I want to have a baby in my womb
I want so much
I want a new poem for 2009
Something I've never written before
Something no one has ever said
No one has ever read
Something new
Nothing borrowed
Something great and glorious
Everything good
I want a poem of hope and truth
And love and joy for 2009

Holiday Haiku

2008-12-30T00:38:00.000-08:00

Manic, mad, daily
Rush from here to everywhere
Too much everything

MERRY CHRISTMAS
to all who have dropped in here and made me smile knowing somebody finds my words worth reading. I pray for you a glorious, prosperous, peaceful, love-filled, blessed 2009!

Home

2008-12-08T11:25:00.000-08:00

Alone amid my books and things
In a tank top and underwear
The whir of the electric fan
The keyboard clicking clacking as I type
The humming of the mother board
Ambient noises from the street outside
Passing planes from a distant sky
No human noise except my own
Nasal noises and hacking cough
I am home. Here. I am alone.
It feels strange. I need to get used to this.
I'm home. Alone. Could hardly believe it.
And so, now what, now how, and for how long
When will the longing for excitement come
When will the antsy "what next" anguish start
How long before the idle mind awakes
And dreams of evil wicked games to play
Been here before, same time, this same place
Uh oh, watch out world, I am home alone.

- 2002? Unemployed

Two

2008-12-01T10:19:00.000-08:00

Separate souls
Different goals
Bound by circumstance and choice
The desires of our hearts
Wedge us apart
And lead us to forked paths

Do we put freedom
Ahead of unity
Do I respect his individuality
Does the need to merge
Take second place
To the growth of his spirituality

Our hearts ache for different things
Is this a sign
Need I discern a deeper meaning
Do I ignore the whispers of my instinct
Do I let go and let life unravel
Without my selfish controlling
Do I choose
Or do I wait
Do I push
Or leave it to fate

Seductive

2008-11-27T09:45:00.000-08:00

This might be long. but there's a surprise at the end.

SEDUCTIVE
by Gege Sugue
copyright 2005

Your face.
The first thing to catch my eye
To ignite the spark
To captivate my heart
Beguile me
Make me take pause
And linger
Look closer

Your face.
Tells me to come nearer
To touch
To probe
And know you more
Sometimes I get hooked
Sometimes I resist
Walk away
Just to see another
Move on to a prettier face

Your face.
May be comely
May be plain
It may be mysterious
Or bold
Colorful or somber
You evoke ideas
You provoke
You invite
You taunt
Entice
And beckon me to know you
Hold you
Explore what lie beneath

Sometimes
Your face.
Reveals much about you
Sometimes it gives mere nuances
Sometimes it offers clues
Sometimes none
Sometimes it tells your story
Your triumphs
Sometimes you’re enigmatic
Making me wonder
Sometimes you are open
Allowing me a glimpse inside
Sometimes you are wrapped in veneer
Preventing even a preview
Heightening curiosity
Inviting risk
Challenging my daring
Goading me to take a chance
Making me ponder
If your substance
Is in parity
With your blatant beauty
I speculate
If you’re worth the price
Sometimes I simply move on
To another less guarded
Or maybe, to hell, I say
I embolden myself
And guiltily, stealthily
Rip off that prudish layer
I choose certainty
Over discovery

Tactile follow visual
My eyes burn down
Your spine.
My fingers pick up the trail
I try to compare you
To the others I already have
How you look in a line
Do you fit in
Do you stand out
Do you complement
Maybe it is not fair
To judge you
By the others I have
But I can’t help it
I am a connoisseur
I have had many
Any many more there are to be had
But no
I shouldn’t
Not again
I tell myself
Not now

The view of
Your back.
Tell me where you came from
Who loved you before
What you are about
Your essence
That separate you from the others
Your history
Your characters
Your maker
Your genre
Your promise.
To amuse me
In nights of solitude
In days of languor
Hours of ennui
To lift me
When the world fails me
To comfort me
Through moments of sorrow
To incite hysterics
Or dramatics
To sate a longing
For knowledge
For inspiration
For travel
Experimentation
Mindlessness
Profundity
Inanity
Intensity
Pretense
Fantasy
Escape
Truth

My palm glides along
Your body.
The longing quickens
The hook deepens
I resist
You persist
You tease
You tell me there’s more
To see
To know
I turn away
You call me back
I give in
Grab you
Hold you
I succumb
I pay the price
And bring you home
Hide you from my beloved’s eyes
You, my guilty vice
I unwrap you
And mark my name on you

I breathe in
Your scent.
Heady
Unique
Special
Could be the crisp fresh smell of new
Or the musty scent of old
Maybe I found you in a pristine place
Untouched
Or maybe I unearthed you
In a dingy bargain place
Maybe you’ve had someone own you
And use you a multitude of times
Before I did
But it does not matter
Because no matter how much
I hold you
Use you
Abuse you
Sap all you have
No matter how much I take of you
You give more
And promise a next time
Assure me
That when I take you again
You will offer as much

Your words.
Unspoken yet powerful
Inspiring
Soulful
Soul food
Evocative, compelling
Pleasing not my ears
But my core
Sometimes sublime
Sometimes crass
May be funny
Or blasé
Angry
Angst ridden
Sarcastic
Satiric
Intellectual
Pseudo intellectual
Shallow
Mellow
Pretentious
Mellifluous
Brash
Rash
Glib
Flip
Illuminating
Edifying
Revealing
Reflecting
Searing
Stirring
Agitating
Awakening
Convicting
Causing discomfort
Serving as a mirror
To my foibles
My weaknesses
My fears
The darkness within me
Stretching my soul
Expanding my mind
Exposing my heart
Hitting my guts
You teach me
Grip me
Stab me where it hurts
Make me confront my demons
Make me smile
Or weep
Or laugh
Urge me to think
To act
To know
To change
Or just to be

You.
For that moment you hold me
Own me
Rule me
Dominate me
Sometimes I lose sleep
And have you all night
Till I am sated
Or spent
Sometimes I set you aside
To wait for another round
Sometimes I consume you fast
Sometimes I take my time
Sometimes I hold back
Sometimes fatigue overcomes me
Some nights my husband finds me asleep
With you on my pillow
He sighs and wakes me
To scold me or mock me

You.
The whole of you
My guilty pleasure
My addiction
My need
My obsession
My prized possession
Books, the ultimate seduction

(And you thought it was something else, right? )

Shift Key

2008-11-25T03:24:00.000-08:00

Clustering the jumble of my thoughts

Long held captive

In a heart afraid to tell

By a mind too judgmental

Of the writer who just was not good enough

Feeling the shift

In my head

In my gut

Through my pen

Moving, sliding, traveling in circles

Along the once blank paper

Finding myself

Hesitantly, tentatively

Then courageously

Extricating what’s hidden

Exposing what is forbidden

And the words spill out

My mind speaks up

My heart gushes

And there on paper is me

In Sonya’s Garden

2008-11-25T03:11:00.000-08:00

by Gege Sugue

(Or maybe I should call this: The Unbearable Lightness of Doing Nothing)

Finding myself

In this garden wonderland

Where the smells and sights

Flavors and textures accost the senses

Leaving me breathless

Yet filled with life

The scent of tarragon

Of eucalyptus, mint and basil

Invading, tickling my nostrils

Relaxing my mind

Once strained and stressed

Oceans of green

Refreshing my eyes

Bursts of purples and pinks

Of yellows, blues, and crimson

Awakening my spirit

Against the pitch dark night

The dancing, flickering white of flirting fireflies

Arousing wonder

Giving delight

The chirping of cicadas

The croaks of frogs

The distant mooing of the cows

Amusing my soul

Teaching me that music

Need not come out of an electronic box

And my tone deaf ears

Do not mean the song within me

Cannot be sung

At Sonya’s dining room

I cleansed my palate

Off the city’s fast food junk and gunk

And my tongue discovered

Feasts of flavors

Of fresh herbs and organic leaves

Of virgin oils and buttery bread

Of slow cooked dishes

Of meats of animals free to roam the range

Of food that comfort

And also surprise

With twists and secret recipes

I discovered the novel experience

Of plucking leaves from the plant

Instantly popping them into my mouth

I discovered flowers that looked good

And tasted even better

I discovered a unique and splendid use for mint

That has forever changed my reaction to yams

At Sonya’s Garden I tasted

I savored a million wonderful healthy flavors

I found myself in Sonya’s Garden

In slow, solitary walks

The space around me

Bathed in the deep dark blue of dusk

I floated along meandering paths

Of bricks and dust

Strewn with muted lights

Diffused by color stained glass

The lightness of my steps

The stillness that soothed frayed nerves

The silence embracing me

All these hushing my noisy mind

Illuminating the yearnings of my heart

The way the sunlight spilled

Into the room told me

I was no longer in that urban jungle called home.

Instead, I was a visitor in a jungle I couldn’t call mine

Where a bug on the dining table

And a caterpillar on my chest

Which in the city would bring about manic screams

But in here seemed natural

Something to giggle about

I was, after all, the one invading these insects’ territory

And I discovered that home need not be in just one place

Finding myself

Doing nothing

Yet learning

And growing

Resting without guilt

Slowing down

Yes, I had time to smell the roses

And arrange them

I discovered, awakened creativity long lay latent

Finding myself

Munching English tea sandwiches

Sipping rosebud tea

Engaging in useless banter

Talking without agenda

Discovering that the art of conversation

Can sometimes be in not having one at all

Finding myself ensconced in my gorgeous brass bed

Draped in crisp, white linen

Reading Borges and Sartre

When my brain felt like mush

After an hour of sheer ecstasy

As Joy, my masseuse, kneaded my muscles

Unknotting knots

Destressing the stress

Of a body battered by the business of daily living

Discovering I can sleep before midnight

Finding peace and bliss in a pillow scented with ylang-ylang

I found myself in Sonya’s Garden

Showering in the wild

With nature as my curtain

Invisible, imagined voyeurs forgotten

I found within me

The courage to bare

In Sonya’s Garden

There were no keyboards to pound

And I found myself writing

The old fashioned way

Right brain dominating

Taking over left brain’s control

Murano pen scribbling and drawing

Leaving a trail of ink

Scented jasmine

Across the paper’s surface

And I discovered that writing

Need not be a painful practice

Of squeezing thoughts and smithing words

That I can write from the gut

And have the courage to bare my soul

I found myself in Sonya’s Garden

In this garden wonderland I had a glimpse

A vision of what I want to be

In the frenzy of doing nothing

I experienced a sampler of the life I want to live

In the dry, lifeless silence of the couples in the dining room

I saw the life of the marriage I did not want

As I missed the people not here

I learned what and whom I value

I found myself in Sonya’s garden

I am that caterpillar

Precariously balancing on the edge of the leaf

Imperfect outside

The beauty inside ready to burst forth

Plodding through life

Knowing something great is about to happen

Not quite sure what

Just knowing it’s going to be beautiful

I’m going to come out of my cocoon

Soon

Flying

Celebrating myself

Celebrating my discoveries

Celebrating the journey I’ve had

And the journey ahead

I found myself in Sonya’s garden

And I liked what I discovered

Shadows on the Pavement

2008-11-22T00:19:00.000-08:00

Rushing from point A to point B
Mind shifting from goal 1 to goal 2
Halting in my tracks
Noticing the shadows on the pavement
Sun and tree co-creators of an art piece
Leaves casting their silhouettes
On the concrete canvas I walk on
A slight breeze
A falling leaf
Altering the artwork
Awakening me from my reverie
Picking up my steps
Making up for lost time
No time to admire shadows and silhouettes
Thinking, later, there will be time to watch the pavement,
Yeah, right, later

Space

2008-11-18T20:24:00.000-08:00

There's a space inside me, a gaping hole,
That aches to be filled by another soul.
There's a space in my life for one new being
Hungry for nourishment, love and caring,
There's a space in my home waiting for a gift
From Him who receives the wishes I lift.
There's a space in my heart that longs to love,
Waiting, hoping for an angel from above.
There's a space in my ear that longs to hear,
A cry so sweet, a giggle so dear.
There's space in my mind filled with knowledge
Sharing them with you would be my great privilege.
There's a space in the nook of my arm,
Ready to hold you and keep you warm.
There's a space in my being
Longing, longing, longing

1999
after having been diagnosed as having PCOS,
a non-life threatening condition that makes
conception a bit of a challenge

Shove Me the Money

2008-11-18T06:11:00.000-08:00

image from http://www.hobotraveler.com/2005/12/streets-of-manila-photos.html

Eyes ten years older than they really are
A face well trained to incite sympathy
An empty stomach and a hungry heart
Sunburnt skin on a tired gaunt body

Calloused fingers tapping on car windows
Filthy hands begging for a mere peso
An angry scowl and an embittered frown
As he is ignored and looked down upon

Society's shame, a syndicate's pawn
City's scourge, a politician's icon
A corrupt cop's lunch, a tourist eyesore
A pedophile's wet dream, twisted pimp's whore

Cursing his parents, wishing away time
Sniffing glue he escapes reality
Life of vandalism and petty crime
His dirty finger for humanity

Nocturnal Impasse

2008-11-17T22:35:00.000-08:00

In the middle of an action movie
Hours before the strike of midnight
Minutes after back meets bed
He slumbers and snores

While she makes midnight her noon
And darkness her muse
She works in the quiet of night
And sleeps at the burst of dawn

Three longitudinal lines divide
The bed from left to right
Crazy body time zones
Separate man and wife

He rests. She wrestles.
He wakes. She wanes.
He drifts. She dreams.
He asks why.
She wonders when the two shall meet.

No Rhyme. No Reason.

2008-11-17T07:59:00.000-08:00

In the business of words
I feel totally bankrupt
In the company of poets
I suffer the role of a poor relative
My soul craves for a way to express
But my intellect suppresses
The unspoken thoughts and fears
Aching to hear themselves
My soul calls for a poem to divulge
Those which pick on my heart
Gnaw on my sense of self
But the words stay bogged
In my mental morass

My system needs the release
Of pent up pains, insecurities
That alcohol can not ever oppress
That earthly solutions scarcely address
Prose is insufficient
The poet in me reticent
And then the irony strikes me
I'm forming verses
I am spewing thoughts
Stanzas are leaping onto the page
Maybe my dormant muse is awakening
Then again, maybe not

And then my mood swings back
To feelings of inadequacy
For not knowing the science of rhyme
For not using what could have been a gift
For keeping the talent latent
For having wasted my life in the pursuit
Of the bottom line and the concerns of the corpulent
Er, that should be concerns of the corporate
Instead of feeding my being
With what is real and stirring
Losing myself in the sham and shit
When I could have been rich, pure, good

How many years have I spent
Meandering, experimenting
Nourishing my ego
While dropping mere morsels for my soul
Stunting the growth of my character
Indulging in useless prattle
Pleasing the imagined public
Whoring myself for attention
Flashing, fishing, fawning for adulation
As if they make me whole
In truth they distract from my truth
And hold my essence captive

This sadness that now escapes
The confines of my skin
Now looms over me
Almost blinding
Casting gray on every vista of opportunity
Loser, I hear my demons call me
Weakling, I hear my heart teasing
Whore, I hear my soul scream
At the failure I've become
Their evil glee caused by the past
They have played in my crash into hell

Damn, how does one construct a poem
What are the rules
And how does one keep the honesty
When the number of lines constrict
How does one work out the rhymes
How does one maintain a meter
Nobody ever taught me
I probably would never have listened
Was too preoccupied with my yuppie aspirations
Was too intent on my acquisitions
Was too cool for sappy articulation
Was too full of my self serving myths

I must have missed it
That chance to be a better person
That call to be bigger than my needs
And maybe like a comet that comes
Once in a lifetime
It will never call me again
So I resign myself to this feeling
Of having wasted myself
Dealing with the shock
Of realizing I am not as great
As I thought I could be
Or should be
Mediocrity, hey that is my greatest ability