Wednesday, April 19, 2006

pugnosedpoetry

okay, as promised (not that anyone is keeping track), here are three poems from my diary collection. they're all unedited so i hope you can bear with me. toink, hahaha... comments are very much welcome.

this first one is about the feeling that you have when poems and stories die in your brain because you never get to write them (that just made me sound sick). i wrote it while i was in tarlac with the aetas.


birth
all these feelings
all these thoughts
my mind
is a womb
of septuplets
who wish not to depart
afraid to let it go
maybe they need to grow
afraid to let it stay
for they may slip and
be forgotten
tired of the weight
that alcohol, caffeine, and nicotine
cannot will away
i am tired
put these thoughts to rest
ambiguous
i am ridiculously unaware
that these thoughts have turned into
monsters

this next one is kinda creepy. it's kinda stalker-y.


disjoint
waking up
i find myself distraught
trying
hopelessly to piece together
parts that don't really fit
as if i were
trying to connect
images of a disjoint dream
trying to form a logical
picture

who knows if i may find myself to be
infatuated, at the very
least
with someone like you?
as though the lonely palms of the coconut
tree
may one day bend to touch the humble ground

is it fear that
kills the feeling?
this quickening notion your presence brings
as though
knowing that for the leaves to touch the ground
it must first expire and
fall

frustratingly amused by it all
this lonely poet sits gazing at
the stars
you who once held witness to my sorrow
watch as i weave a
fabric to easy my pain

the woolen quilt wrapped around me
no longer
will i suffer from the bitter cold

who knows if you may find yourself to
be
in love with me one day?
when dreams of better men slowly begin to
dissipate
and finally, the images of that disjoint dream
start to
materialize in my mind's eye

it forms an image that which my boyish
naïveté
failed to see and grasp
a limber coconut tree finding itself so
deperate
the tops of its anarchaic palms start to touch the ground

a
quiet tremor starts at the edge of my lips
'till you notice that finally
i am awake

this is the last one. i haven't gotten a chance to write them in my new notebook. i'm not too happy with this one. it's got a lot of loose ends and it feels like a cliche metaphor.


drip
a thirsty traveller
rugged by many miles
stands waiting for the rain

his dry lips and waiting throat
yearning for just a drop of water
to quench the heat that his journey
has brought him

finally, the miraculous raindrops
start to fall over
his head
he cups his hands
sadly hoping to catch the precious liquid

he takes a few sips
and wonders how he ever lived
without ever
knowing the sweet taste of deluge

the creases in his hands cause the
water to slip
each drip flows into another one
until he realizes that
there is just no way
to hold the raindrops in his cupped hands

and
so he drinks what he can
not really knowing how long the rain will last
each time he thinks his hands are full
the water slips away helplessly

the rain stops and the final waterdrops
make their way though the
lines
in his cupped hands

tired and still desperately thirsty
the lonely traveller sets out again


that's it. im kinda late for class. hehehe...

2 comments:

  1. yeah yes naman! ahehehe.... nice poems nyl... yan po ang mga poems na nakasulat sa diary nya na binasa nya sa akin dati.... ahehehe maybe sometime i'll show you my diary (but not everything ahehehe! you didn't show everything in your diary)
    just keep on doing your thing nyl.. who knows, maybe you'll be a well-known poet /writer someday.... ahehe wag lalaki ang ulo sa taas!:)
    ingatz!

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  2. sabi ko na puwet, i mean, poet ka talaga deep down, pa rin, nyl e. 'yan ang exigency mo yata talaga - ang dumama at ang mag-express. yeah.

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