September 1, 2014

I wish you’d grow up… my mother said
not because I’m irresponsible but because i am a petulant child
slow to grow up-
I marvel at the smallest things
i still run around the house, i do not walk to the fridge i run to it
i dance unsightly dances and laugh silly- laugh hysterically, talk, clap my hands
and jump up when I’m super excited (never outside my home, though i sometimes slip up)
i interact with TV, have conversation with inanimate things
i name things, my car has a name, my kettle,… generally things i like, things i am attached to
I have few teddy bears that I like to hold (only show them to people i’m close to)
I dream of living in a tree house, time traveling and meeting an alien named “Voila”
and i think it can happen or it is happening somewhere already because i secretly
believe thoughts are living things- and someday i will go to a place where my happy thoughts and dreams have settled.

but my mother wish, I’d grow up ( though she likes that I’m joyful)
that is that I’d be more “womanly” (in my choice of clothes, in my approach to life in general)
that i’d be a tiny bit cunning, competitive, and worldly- that I’d want things that most adults go for
or that at least I’d have “regular” dreams
of prince charming or marrying a nice/decent guy, have children-
a “successful” life in short
I know she means well, so i take in the good intention and forgo the vexation
for she wishes me the happiness she knows
and I am still looking for mine and i do not think it hinges on prince charming, money or status
not that there are such things as small or regular dreams-
dreams that you dream define you,
my most cherished dream is to be more open, loving and compassionate
regardless of where my choices lead me
but i know, for as long as i live, i will gobble down
candies, moist cakes and, hot chocolates
(and enjoy it better than the finest of liquor)
while smiling happy (toothless?) smiles

I’m growing up slowly
step by step bits by bits
i’m getting a better grasp of what it is to be alive
though my heart is still immature
though my mind has yet to focus my thoughts
on what’s good –
and desires to conquer and win blurry my sight
Though sadness like a 5th season comes with
a flurry of despair,
i will not yield to or lapse into darkness
there is so much beauty left in this world
I will gather courage and borrow some of God’s strength
Surely, i too can bloom
with sunshine
i can bear good fruit:
“Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness and


March 16, 2014

Higher on a shelf
going crazy
getting rotten
pulling on a thread
of a fragile woven world-
slowly coming apart
By my hands, i will make it shed
i will cover it in stains
the way it did me
watch it struggle 
gasp for air
when it cajoles, pleads or puts
on airs 
i will yield, bide my time
watch it grow, expand
radiate joy and hope 
and just as it made me something sadder
i will rob its light, enthusiastic energy
twist its beauty
turn its gifts into a curse
fill its days with doubts, worry,
fear and unbearable pain
days thick-sown with irrepressible will to live
enough to want to stick around:
suffer when suffering comes
-sadness for ever looming – 
breathe, cry or laugh

nothing there but this

October 27, 2013

the one who knows
does not worry about the future
or about the myriad of reasons
condemning him to drudgery

he maybe of mud, but he knows
as long he breathes, he breathes

and when, he loves- he loves
not just when it’s convenient or

he does not acclimate
to seasonal pettiness or
begrudge in silence
he speaks his mind

he shows you the end of the road
says “what have you done?”

when you’re trying to hide from your
mistakes or from
all the time wasted

he changes your mind, but will not
cash up on the lies you’ve given him

he may be too late to catch on
on what’s floating in your mind
but he is not indifferent

he sees the good in you
he wishes to read happy endings in
the palms of your hands

but the one who knows
knows he knows nothing at all

he simply puts forward a sincere heart


August 17, 2013

A melee
of soul eaters
flower pickers
world shapers
subterranean raiders
bleeding speeding through the universe
poking days

feverishly saying hello
both ends burning
releasing life’s dye

sparkling bubbling in a fluted glass
talking seam foam
vapor trails
nature’s hard work

licking the dust of
a church’s floor


these sweating bones aren’t real
nothing is
in the end


Any day

God Hums


July 29, 2013

in the morning
at the drive through
when i plastered on a convincing smile
it loomed over my head
it came in
and i creaked like an old door

Still a kid
on the playground,
it approached me
surrounded all my toys
it took over my childhood
and made me lonely
wondering in a corner why
i couldn’t be bright and

always out of my element
awkward on my two feet, and when
i sat, i sat on the edge of a seat
almost falling down
i gnawed on my fingernails
till drops of blood came out

when i was alone,
i listened to the silence
it was overwhelmingly alive
full of secrets and countless

i thought to myself,
out there, there is a kid
who hears silence scream
exactly like me
when night comes,
all the restless sounds
teem in darkness
bless that child
cover her/his ears till all
the fear washes away

some day, i believed,
i won’t mind the (memories of)
stomach aches or chest pains
but they lasted so long,
i couldn’t wait for it to make sense
i pushed myself out of the world,
i canceled everything out
floating above people, jobs, and countries  
the only way i knew that i still care was a
purposeless fear that stack to everything i

I’ve been absent for so long
i do not know how to walk with others
anymore, i’m not sure if I still can

and when i think of that child
i want to say

Me too
i have been there
though i’m still in that pit like world
i’m slowly making my way out
though i’m still leading a swing like
existence- going up and down –
back and forth
I’ve decided,
I won’t loathe my overly somethingness
i won’t run away anymore
i won’t avoid or wait
brick by brick, i will build
a house of confidence
I hope I can grab on light and not let go
I do not wish to lose to myself anymore

I want to say

Me too
i’m capable of warmth and love

the end is nigh

July 28, 2013

In between hideousness
slave to all those things that were
meant to free me
time went by quickly
my bright purplish conscience
tomorrow, i will win over the city
i will run all those red eyed gargoyles
out of the city

doors creek
locks weep
i will pinch their noses
and dry their tears
maybe it is a sign of
the familiar times
swarming through
but i hear the rattling sound
of metal cages
embalmed creatures
flying up to kiss
the hard belly of the monster

oh my nebulosa
screeching sounds
endless they come
from the tv, radio
pastors, furnice,
strangers on the street
and all the few people i know
call it life

nothing phases you either
you’re tightly tucked in
and i shiver like i used to
the sky is blue
trees are green
stop lights are red
and on the other side,
words seem so simple
and when lined right,
they say :

“you’ll be alright”
“I’m thinking of you”
“i Know”
“i’m sorry”
“you’re still growing”
“thank you for being here”
“farewell, I will miss you”


July 22, 2013

Resolutions at night made
rush with the first ray of light
how much of my mind is truly mine
how heavy the heritage?
brain chemicals, moldy souls
we’re not all psychologically equal

The landscape of my family is brushed
with polite despair
never abusing each other
just that person in the mirror
who won’t stop staring back
joy, what joy?
a defunct idea

My mother, she is dynamic
she hangs onto Jesus’s neck,
she has been pushing his head hard in the
water for so long, her anger is diluting
So Jesus is cool, Jesus is far
and my brother, he has a brilliant mind
and a heavy heart
he puts out his burning anguish with alcohol
light, where is the light?
hitting or stacking the deck

it’s not that the world is ugly, we’re
just ugly in an imperfect world
we coalesce into despair
we’re theoretically functional
societally correct
my father, he is “excellent work”
people tip toe around him and talk about
him with awe and respect
his under-the-radar sadness gets buried
for life is urgent and reality biting

when we get together,
we talk excitedly of all
things peripheral
we laugh for hours
we circumvent the heavy
yet know that there is nothing we wouldn’t do,
if one us actually asked for help
however we do see
how each of us is struggling on a steep cliff
shuffling reasons to stay alive
that’s how we know we won’t save each other
we are not right
we are far from sound
we’re not idyllic, we’re
a dysfunctional family

“All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”- Leo Tolstoy

(Fear) not

June 28, 2013

Roots are growing
stark dark
along the walls of my soul
they draw all the clear water
and i plow through memories
looking for that hurling wind
that carried in a seed of
destruction- and
(knocked me down)

from the
first scream of life
to the shock of all things first
to the fading relationships
to the colorful imaginary heroes
to the shadows of death
to the meltdowns
to the isolation
to the refreshing joyful moments
to the blurry vision of love
to the jolts of loneliness

all of it has come so far
entangled and chocked up pitfully
i can’t tell unhappiness from joy
with so much darkness weaved in

at night
when the lights go out
a voice calls for rescue
telling me that I know better than to fall
(close to the tree)
that i am not just rich fertile soil
for disaster to flourish in

with daylight, more roots grow
i feel routine, i feel borrowed
tacky and useless
like a broken wood toy
vibrating phantom leaves

as every man desires to mend and be whole
I gaze at the sky
hoping for heaven to peek through
and distill the goal of my existence
for i want to be more than the clashing
hues of my essence.


“Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.”

Counting Sheep

June 12, 2013

The sun rises
you hold me tighter
for i’m the one who’s always lost
and because you’re my dream
i hope you’d unravel me
and sew me back together
i’d better, i’d be beautiful
down to my ligaments
down to my mind
and when i slide
my undergarments back on
i’d believe that i’m kind of
a challenge, an intriguing riddle
a kind of virtue
and joy will always find me
when i close my eyes
(but) i go back to the dance
the urgency of a late night song
the yearning-
heart beats, collarbones and lips
in the silent words of your
almond shaped eyes
i read the world
and I, forever a passenger
a guest

you were sparks and burning flames
a mixture of colors
a sky blushing
with your existence –
always blood red

Born with fever
you could not drag yourself away from the
worlds of peaked suns and sirens
you were never you even when you tried

for all the love you got
left you hungry still
you had a bite of rotten fruits
and the rot stuck
you were never sure if
you’d cut deep enough
you sprayed your youth into the air
your feet barely touched the ground that
you were already in the air exploding

…and your ashes are everywhere
sticking to the people you loved

settling in a way you never could


Poem 333

May 27, 2013

wake up
don’t you know you’re already dead
those dreams have nowhere to go
tall wild grass hang over your head
for all the things you never went for
and all those lovers on the backseat
grew in the world you left behind
no matter
everything you loved
everything you were meant to be
are on the balance
weighing out each other

It’s true you poorly chose yourself
life didn’t seem real enough
to fear or avoid darkness
lurking in the corner of your eye
but out there love is finite
out there everyone goes their way
slowly drinking the bitter cup
to the last drop they go
is it how they know they’re alive?

A door is closing
on the song that never got to
escape your shy lips
and all the thoughts you never gave life to
loom over you like a delinquent debt
no matter
here everybody loves you
here everybody understands
that loneliness and pain are unique
to each and everyone
here everybody has something to atone for
and eternity to rage and reconcile
suffering and God

There is no right thing to do
but to let go
of regrets and dread
no longer at the mercy
of the past
you will ride the high tide till
the shore of goodness and love
and there, there …
who knows…
a voice like a mother
singing good old David’s psalm?
warm, hopeful, vibrant
before disillusionment and

young again,
you will sing
and realize how wrong it can be
to sing David’s psalm like a sad song
Who knows…
over there, oh there…
a happy song
only the Lord Knows
to ease and revive,
all the sad unhappy songs

Wake up
don’t you know you’re already dead ?
somebody else would have realized by now
wake up and sing your song

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever. “

the way he moves
he is no ordinary man
he is male
from glossy magazines
air brushed topless perfection
ignominous beauty
he is a top chart pop song
catchy sexy
and like a radio tune,
he is on constant replay
he is got the appeal of a high on demand commodity and
the confidence of a high price tag-
he is a wave of heat
brainwashed and out of control,
i want to buy naughty lingerie
and master the complex art of classy slutterie-
his eyes, his cheeky smile have me screaming for his name,
my nails turn into claws
for a night or two
on his altar, i will lay the gifts
of my body,
and if he wants to i’ll throw in
my heart soul and pride
i just want to be closer
and if he be cloud, i’d be rain
i want to see
his machinery at work, give it a running
my skin is already ablaze
i am a decadent pretty pretty please
but who made up the rules
we are on opposite shores
if he’d just close his eyes, there is nothing we
couldn’t do-
i’d be the award in his hand at the VMA-
his acceptance speech and
his afternight party


December 2, 2012

In a not so different space
under a blinding light
we revealed ourselves with ease
we hummed our truths about God’s plan
and raised our glasses to an incandescent bond
that we knew could go out any time

night after night
we’d meet to share the hurt, the happy, the ugly in our minds
we’d light up, flicker, and light up again
we’d dust ashes off our faces and make choices:
to live unquestioning or rekindled
night after night
we were born and born again

we swore off

be it in a pond or the big sea
we swore we would swim a beautiful swim
we wouldn’t live small lives
floundering pitfully drearily
and when the going gets tough
we wouldn’t run the way robbers and murders do;
without looking back-
we’d give all we have to give
and let it be

we may lose few more hair, gray the rest and
grow dizzy with loneliness
we’d still hold onto our souls and
quietly stand in his warm light

back then
thinking of God was our happiness
but as we lived life
our grace wore off, and one day
we found ourselves at an insurmountable distance away from God
i bewildered with a gradual fear of Him,
and you, my friend, unraveling and feeling
too small, too resentful to stand in his presence,
we each found reasons and excuses
why couldn’t be what he had hoped we’d be

yet a part of us lingers on
hopelessly searching
through the winding alleys of our past
for the God we knew
but perhaps if we had accepted who
we were becoming,
imperfect shadowy puerile and messy
we would have found God still
unchanged and accessible

something inside is a-stirring and churning
it hits against my cranial box
leaving tiny dots of despair
when i look your way, they shake like salts
so when you cry i don’t cry
i float on cheap red wines miles away
and the moon rise and rise
but i do not rise with it
i jive in feverish moods
in the urban noises i keep on jumping through hoops

so when you cry i don’t cry
i go into a cave deep down below
my hands scribble your name on the walls
to weigh in the math of your existence
and make sense of it
perhaps it’s the childhood years in the eighties
spent staring at pavements wondering
why it couldn’t be lava instead

back then the “future” was such a big word
and when i breathed, i breathed in life itself
i shone with stars and played with invisible friends
i thank aliens for David Bowie and
joyously gazed at candle light
and when you cried, i cried with you
when you ran, i ran with you
I imitated your every word and gesture
sometimes i thought i was you
and when the moon rose, I flew towards you or perhaps
the world twirled twirled around me
drunk with the night air and without a care, i went to sleep
but one morning i woke up to a different you
when you walked, i couldn’t walk with you
it was pitch dark i lost the sight of you- i learned about fear
when you talked, i couldn’t hear you
it was so silent, i counted your heartbeats- i learned about boredom
when you jumped, i broke few bones
it was painful – i learned about gravity and death
So when you cry i don’t cry
and when i feel, i don’t feel at all

the night is falling and
i hear the sound of his footsteps
outstretched and near breaking point
darkness seeps beneath my skin
nothing means anything
we’ll fall in a well in the end
so let’s go smoke city fumes
crawl behind pigeons on the pavement
stare at lights turning green yellow red
we’re twisted beneath delightful wrappers
so dig in and we will scratch against your tongue

misty eyed and woe-full,
we sleep-walk through the forest in your mind
never questioning the hungry ghosts on your back
my my we cherish money in your pocket and
holes in your soul
but in the end we’ll all fall in the well
so go easy as you drink the midnight sky
the clouds you wear on your feet will not last
sweep tears from angels’ cheeks while you still can

what seemed like a flight will turn into a fall
like a stone launching in the air
may come to know that it only flies when it’s thrown
nothing means much
when you’re on the ground

while walking through a park, a feeble light peeked through
trembling branches, and like that
strange thoughts came to my mind
“if someone had believed in me would i
be less lacking, fragile, nervous,…

would I have the confidence to be
a woman
a wife or
a human being

[life is erasing me before I even get
to say “ah, I’m alive”]

would i be greedier or stronger
believing that there is a space for me to be,
a higher place to climb, a hand to reach out to

instead of fearfully catching my breath
throughout the day

would i be more loving
would i be more grounded”

[but mind and heart reason trying to assuage each other]

they were probably like me
busy in their thoughts
caught up in their…
Desires? Hopes? Problems?
but What about me?

[I do not wish to count the nails on my coffin or tally their faults to
justify my own failings.
But where does it leave me?
between the hammer and the anvil?
or am i the hand that pummels and plunders?]

who am I not seeing
who am i not believing in
who am i encouraging
who do i approve of
or are we forever teetering around the same spots,
giving and receiving scars, learning how to fall on our knees or
how to sweep our feet with someone’s else pride

[I’ve built myself inside empty rooms
I grew up cold
but more of snow than ice,
I am self aware]

Summary of thoughts:
is a full stomach a happy stomach?
Not according to scientists/doctors and other know-it-all
so always leave a little space
and remember the heart is just another organ
do you ever hear the brain complaining?
as for the metaphorical heart, well, …
oh never mind
i lost track again
i rarely know what i truly mean
i must be disingenuous at heart
or just scatterbrained or both
but as they aptly say/describe
cats meow
dogs bark
cows moo
lions roar
pigs grunt
but what do humans do?
they carry all different sounds
thus have no true sound
so i’m done hissing my truth,
and hence leave you with filtered untruths
or something like that

no matter what generation we disavow
youth is a terrifying tide of a thousand light years of turpitude
prowling and laughing
crying and whining

from pier to anchor
electric lamps to small towns
we’re full of imperfect ideas
into a tunnel we stare at shadows
dreaming of the day, we’ll wake up into
a light, worship and be true

Out of harms way
we’ll empty our cups and welcome the flow of the universe
we’ll not settle scores and further spread ourselves thin
or thicken ourselves with selfish pursuits

The world will not grate on our spirits or oversee our minds-
we’ll not revere in delusion
we’ll reach out to the love watering our roots

We’re ageing children, the feathers on our wings keep falling out
but we’ll be what we were meant to be
at the end of our lines
we will billow into the sky and soak up the warm light

So what if the last ten years seem like a waste
to the onlooking eyes, i know what i’ve gained
i have gained a life worth living
perhaps not in a concrete worldly way
but i know now that life is a blessing not a right
I was lost and unbirthed to the world for some time
but I have come to, and even though occasionally
I drift in and out of light,
shapeless and hurting, I somehow feel like I’m unfurling
and growing.

[There are all sorts of years in one’s life filled with pivotal moments of despair,
claritity, new found joy, doubts and surrender,

if not for the upstairs neighbor’s cries of orgasms, stopping me to a dead halt, I…
if not for the valentine’s rose red, the blood red red, the red riding hood red, I…
no matter… the lady moaned in an appartment where an another lady used to scream
from her husband’s beating, where a little girl’s eyes spoke of sadness and resignation
where drunk college girls roared till dawn throwing beer bottles on my patio, and
where an immigrant lady laundered and dried clothes on a balcony,
no matter… we’re from the same source but of different glue

[you can trust the ladder, but don’t kid yourself the altitude will sicken your heart]

Adorning air of martyrs to dress up all the empty afternoons
with all the Sunday mass minded folks creeping me out
with their cryptic smiles, false nearness
bombarding me with grievous questions and realizations
how long the future, how much the mileage
with all the ex-lovers lining up in a queue

[Foolin’ myself, I stay away]

you went out from the front door
while i rushed out through the back door
you’re good looking, but
without Jesus in your mind
you’re bubbles of light floating
shrinking bursting up in the air
but one of these days, you’re will take up God
you will call me up to your waterfront to
revise me, pull me up, build me back
the pain you sewed in my heart will dissolve
so don’t you throw away your heaven’s pennies

[things are better when you’re gone,
most of the time…]


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