Tuesday, March 25, 2014

la guerdiya

only after sundown, right before sleep, i will be me. a mess of things, and remembering even the tiniest of everything. memories might fade, under the bitter cascade of pitfalls and waterfalls of our where-with-all and the never ending all descent into the alley of allegory transitory.

time is strange, like how it change into its changes and you are the strain that sought the rain that brought the strange hinge that hinges, this heart to yours; obscure. you were the cure and the tear that tore open this fissure of emotion. the passion and the impassion, that it brought in calculated algorithmic seismic tremors of fervor on the plains of the forgotten. this was the fever, the initial seizure that seizes on unflinching, clenching deep in taut and i, in thought brought that inevitable wrought to rot. and so, i saw you in my sleep, your body drowning in the deep trying to keep secrets you could not keep. i thought i heard a plane crashing and the sea waves crashing, but it was only then i heard the sound of your passion snapping.

you still cross my mind from time to time. in the lost last continents of time at the deep end of depend. i still cross your name in my mind and for long i would not mind with an unsure imaginary pen. you still instil the still echoes of still imagining pictures of my imagine. you, i still imagine with your air without care and the answers you gave to question existential despair. you were there still with the smile you did not smile, etching through daubs of paint on canvases made of pain for miles and miles. after all, even forever forevermore you were there keeping score on the long listless lore of myths and cryptic lifts on long listless lips. at times, i know nowhere; you are. that you know, where you are. knowing that you are, everywhere where we are. where we were, yesterday that days of yesteryear.

i still stand guard at la guardia, en guard; on guard nova secluria. to guard the past and the future that might come to pass and break free the solemn rememberings that have yet come to past. i still wait, for the weight to lift slowly gently over this shoulders that burdens this cinders to clear. i still stand guard, with a bouquet of tears and the smear of my fears that leeches through, right across the creases of forgotten kisses, that long-awaited avenue. that day, came dismay that was last may came maybe led me astray for so long among the waiting uncertain. and it is certain, that certain is for certain that i should have said that word unmentioned. you speak of immortality, and i have immortalized you in words mentioned.

i hated airports ever since.

Friday, March 07, 2014


these pages does not bleed like how i do. this ink does not have even the smallest inkling of how i feel. in this stasis, my emotions runs the gamut of white to grey and black and then back. a surf of the sea of surfeit sullen melancholy of ships sunken in between darkening daylights and the bright of night. i can never endure, days of young and nights of old without you. to come and breathe life into me anew and skew all nothings into a slew of shapes and promises broken in two.

i am accompanied by these shadows of you. where you used to be, right beside me. where the light brought upon the shadow of your body on my feet, where i lay in grey in repeat. sometimes, doubt casts itself in a deliberate iconoclast for memories, and i was faced with the conjuring of such accursed trivialities. i have stopped the world once, just to watch you swirl into my favourite colour. under the irreverent tender of incoherent whispers. the promise of not being under asunder, forever and ever until it rings into a cover under the darkness, as we persevere.

it is only a matter of time, that it gets dark again. as time and space moulds into a lovecraftian horror that my mind conjured into this reality anonymity. i submit my incentive was romance, and that it sets a present tense, as i watch the stars in a dance. only after several onlys, that the idea of lonely succumbs to the cranial acupuncture of missing that punctures through the loss and the grossly unfamiliar. we are both under the influence, only to speak of truth on that night we are used to be confused and that the promise made was what we ought to make. that night, it started with a simple touch through the amalgam of hues, red and blue.

the tangent intelligent and the circumference arc of conjecture. the π/pi that equates to the approximate equal of 3.1415. i desire nothing more and nothing less. as you make you through the dark abscess and the dark recesses of my conscience. only in the lab do they make do, the things that makes right and then two. we have seen it all, and the letters sprawled on the wall. the coming, and the unbecoming of our warning through the times and spaces.

will i see you again, in the state of such common and uncommon stance. will i dance with you, like how we did before in our steps of two. do we do, what we did before in a state of awe. do we take the light and soak in the sounds, and measure the details in an act of science so profound. will i find you, in the hours of the night and in the middle of nowhere at the lost and found. will we be here when each of us have left. will you start to live, when we stop leaving. will we visit the jetty of regret like we always do and how we used to. will the rain wash us away, like once there was dismay and we bid farewell in love's sway. will we shine like how the sun used to, a million years ago. will we be the same under these skies, without any other thing to bind with, our ties.

will these questions ever stop?

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

the girl who comes in dreams

"you have lift me up again and gift me to the trees," he said in slow. "let us run fast through the fields of feeling and over mountain tops of heart-rendering stops. let's swim through the ocean's falter and say that we will never stop"

she comes in dreams. where mortals lay in coils, coursing and stays entwined in perfect toil. a show of intricate delicate complications and utter spoils. she comes in dreams, where only mortals dream of, as she slips in and out of reality into reverie in perfect sewing seams, it seems. she lays there, at the edge of your realisation without care of the air that you share, as it caresses your skin under tender care. together, where you will bear witness, the bare nothingness of her echoing whispers that makes sweet surrenders, of which that brings about your heart's tranquil stop to a shudder. the beat in your heart will skip beats as you try to catch your breath and the pace of your feet. with hers, as she glides instead of the common mortal stride. until when, you're next to her side by side, that she stops her permanent fight, to hold your hands in a grip so tight. in haste but with gentle grace she brings about the flight through a cosmic delirium of nebulaic proportions.

"love, just close your eyes and pretend that everything is fine," she said in a tone of worry. "i'll tell you when.."

he saw, the earth fast shrinking behind them. it seemed to melt away, in a way where washed grey was lead to black in an attempt to go astray.  the imagery, reminded him of time long ago, and how she wore that dress that slowly made his eyes undress. in ocular address, it slipped his sight, as it cuts beneath the iris and his eyelids. he remembered what she said to him, as to what cause have given him the right to stray. where in living tombs does he stop to stay, but in the end leave and lift the darling buds of dismay. the clocks around him was ticking fast with every breath. he decided that day, they have been wrong and he has been part awake. he will never ever know her even for how long it took him to know for so long.

he knew then, that soon the rain will come to wash away. the earth that held him was no island, even for any man of any sway. he soon will grow inside a new skin, and find a way out through those islands so akin. when all his days, he became a castaway and believed that he will be wrong one day. only in time, will he question, "are you still a mess?"

"don't stay, run away. he has ordered assassination" she whispered to him. "it's our fault, this is what we wanted, this is where we lay."

"we didn't come this far, just to turn around," he replied her with his eyes still closed.

he woke up from his trance, as he realised the dream he was in now starts to mold into a never ending black hole. he can see many enemies poised and within his circle of sight, gathered in ready for the fight. he knew what he had to do, to ride the tide of life and search for the arms that brings about this rife. all around him, fire started to rise but he loved the heat that burned his skin. he knew, she is there to guide him out of this maze.

he looked to her and said, "i guess we could say that we could set this world ablaze. please love, please take my hand and take my soul to rest, so that we could always be around."

in faltering footsteps and into dead end paths. his hands in hers as she leads the way as they watched his world falls all around.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

and the mountains caved

and the mountains caved.

like how we use to when our lives were apart and undecided kismet was not yet set, to part. to part and impart the story that would become the epic saga of our lives. as before and as if like it was, we will not falter in any matter, under no circumstance that could hinder us. like the cave that was once before, majestic in its ardor and splendour, like how we are before our after.

as it will always do. in times of great distress, in the dark recesses of our recess. where we will obsess on how things are there to be clear and to be of infinite process. whereas things are not as simple as it seems. they are the lost listless hope of the process that requires the fall into oblivion and the prerequisite of the mental anonymity amongst the leagues and scores of innuendos and euphemisms created through this tundra of a cold and desolated land.

as we thrive through this pass of reticence, we will weave through a sort of sleep for lovers. an asylum forever in our heads the perfect seam and sieve that holds and binds us into this threadlike and intrinsic revel of revelations. this is the regard and the synonym to the cerebral connotations that our irises might leave, at the corner of our eye. where we will blink and in every point of time we will never miss, who we once were.

we care not of words that time forgot. only mere colloquial conundrums that seemed alien to us. the hushed tones in alien tongues, introduced to our limbic ether, in our regions of the nether. the sheer clear of it all, our transparent fall. that only offers the solitary ambiguity that we seize and take charge of between the hours of none and therefore we become one. we make things and forget that to make we beget the wheel that spins our will into the ultimate chrysalis-like catharsis that we so desperately need in the help to achieve our static sigh belief.

there will be a time where, we will meet consequence on the veranda of the heart and we will go and inquire of matters that from and beyond fruition come to pass in an exalting threshold of deliberative tug and pull of sentient things.

in pure dismiss, we will miss our start and the little pieces that we mend on our little hearts. even at taut, even in a sort of furore that caught ethereal bliss. the surreal sanctuary our minds will mould into. like the discussion of telepathical miracles. guessing and making innuendos with euphemisms effortlessly in our minds. in the simplest of things that being us, we will be one and next to zero none. our own objects of singularity in our chase of existence objectivity. rhythmic algorithmic colloquy is where we venture and there it will be our conjecture to puncture the reality that surfaced on a surface of parallel universes. in thought, this will be the mathematical desire of our lives, that would transpire into the end of what we need to send, without a sense of retire. that sense of temporal judgement on temporary troubles of visionary abandonment.

this things that we shall acquire, will look on to transpire into the sure fire power of jet fuel and desire. the food to our already traditional trade of bitter tirades and the things that we shall forget in future promises unkept and forgotten.

and to this end, will we still crave, as like in the past the mountains still cave?

Saturday, December 07, 2013

the air without care

"a fair air, that we could share?" she said in a humbling tone.

she looks into the distance, in lost listless disposition. emanating the quandary that she was in, blaming the furore that was before. the one fault, opens a vault of faults, at best a sense of aplomb in the catacombs of diversionary visionary troubles.

"the air that we share, is the pair of us, without care. only the dare that with which we bring out of our lair of hearts at default," he said in melancholic reverie listlessness, as if it was painted into the wind as he joins her looking into the distance.

they have been intrepid travellers of this air. that air without care, that carries the blithe and zest that encircles their lives and the kismet that brought them together. if not, at all. they were, the masters of their fate, as they would like to believe. a state, where they could carry the whole weight of the world. that gentle swirl, and the whirl into the whirlpool that makes their lives. and the surefire danse macabre, that they intent in intense.

Friday, November 15, 2013


he sits on lush green grass atop of a tiny hill, overlooking the lush tall green ones in the meadow. the setting sun, shone through the wispy trees with trails and trails of trailing hanging leaves. serenity would not beg to differ, on how this mise en scène resembles it. if tranquility was a soul, this would be it's home.

this was their spot, their place. their chosen enclave of solace, in which where each other, they would embrace. hours and hours on end, like how in the hourglass time is measured in sand. with pace none of their concern, only words of grace and touch of their hand.

she was in his thoughts, a goddess. a goddess among goddesses. a divine magnum opus of stellar craftsmanship. her beauty was electric and enthralling, as if she was god's hypnotist. she would turn heads in a room, like how sunflowers would turn towards the sun. with her lips, that hint of delectable capillary red, no one would dare not hear what she would say or take their eyes away.

he misses her, more than ever now that she's gone. fate took her away, but fate dealt it's hands in another way. she is still with him, right there in the meadows. everything of her, bundled into this body of joy and she's running in the fields with the lush tall green ones.

"aura," he shouted trying to peek through the shrubbery looking for signs of life. "aurelae", he shouted again, worrying.

"yes, baba" a girl answered, slowly appearing through the tall thick tuft of nature as she ran towards him.

his relief, can be seen in the reflection of the sun is his eyes, with his daughter running towards him. he said the last words how he would have said to her, if she was still beside him.

"it's time to go home, love"

Friday, October 25, 2013

a fair affair

"have more somber words escaped your lips?" she asked, as indelible dismal lines etched itself on her face and in the small horizon of water in the pool of her eyes.

all he could focus on was only her lips, as it moved in slow-motion technicolor in his head. her lips is that tender bounce when your cake fluffs up baking in the oven. her lips is the waterbed, you can't help but drown into after a long day at work. her lips is the exterior of an apple that you would bite into with gusto, only that blood would gush out. but, she wouldn't mind that.

he concentrates on the cigarette she was holding in between her fingers, as the smoke that it emits runs concentric puffs of white and grey into the air. his eyes follows as she puts it in between her lips, inhaling and exhaling the bitter taste. that taste, bitter in essence, even more so in meaning. her bitter sentiments and her complete disregard for worldly things and her own well-being. a part if not all, why he fell in love with her. he smiled a delectable smile inside, remembering how they first met.

"it's only fair" he finally answered her as he tries to look away, as far as his eyes could take him.

"only for you," as she blows the last puff of her dying cigarette. "we were suppose to make it, if not for the future, for the present"

he knows that it was a decision of a younger man, deciding what he decided 2 years ago. he was too young to keep good love from going wrong but she endured. a suicidal endeavour, he thought at that very moment at the start. something that begun as abrupt, could only end as the way it started and dissipation is something you could only hope for. this hope was a thread made of air, the thinnest air there is.

"as much as we are or we were, we are going nowhere" he said slowly as he turned to walk away.

her eyes, welled up like a thousand wells as she said, "but, nowhere is somewhere I will go with you".

Wednesday, September 25, 2013


"settle down, love", he said in a sure tone of no remorse. "this won't last long".

he was wearing his armor, shining like how the moon is right now in the sky. he called it, the armor for sleep, a place where his demons and secrets that he keeps. his armor, shone majestically as a reflection of a woman becomes visible on it. he was hunched over her, with a hammer in his right hand and his left, her chest, holding her down on the ground.

she lies down still, on the green grass of the meadow. they were only accompanied by the night winds, the cicadas and the darkness. her chest was open, like how open heart surgery goes. her insides laid bare, revealing, for the heavens to witness. her tiny heart, beats slowly even in her heart-rending state. an heart-rending cry of almosts, torment. she lays there silent, until she utters.

"when my brittle bones began to break, and my languid hands began to shake," she said, in a scattered tone, almost too sparse to be coherent. "it's my own fault." 

as she shed a tear, it glistens reflecting the moon shining in the sky over the horizon.

he then lifts the hammer in his hand as high as he could go, and pummels her heart that is still beating in its cage. the sound of her heart breaking with each swing of the hammer, broke the silence in the meadows that night. she still lays still, even with her insides laid bare and the remorseless relentless proverbial breaking of her heart. she sheds a tear, to each sound of breaking.

she finally mustered the courage to speak again, "the apple that you gave me made me sick, like how your kiss made me sick"

as she describes, the proverbial kiss of death or the awakening kiss from the slumber, known as death. he then tries to stop her, by putting his finger over her lips. his own tears, started slowly falling on her lips, his salty tears over his salty fingertips unto her sweetened lips. it was his tears of sadness, as he masks it as his tears of joy.

the grip of his fingertip on her lips loosen, as she continues, "and i won't forget, the taste of deceit on my tongue, as if it were my tongue." as she licks her lips, and the end of his fingertip, " as if it were my own blood and i can't forget the taste of my own tongue."

he then continues hammering, until dawn breaks, as how her heart breaks. he then, stands over her, looking at her heart shattered into uncountable little pieces. he looks into the heavens above and uttered.

"if i had a heart, i would waste it on you."

like a fairytale, how he came into her life, he slowly walks away from her. leaving her broken and shattered alive on the ground. as her knight in shining armor disappears from sight, she slowly picks herself up as she picks up the pieces of her heart on the ground, and cupped it in her hands. she then walks towards the cliff at the end of the meadow, with the ocean behind it.

 the sun started to rise, as the horizon beckons.