Solace.

Another moment of solace… though the place never mine for the keeping. I had companions beside me but dare not take a glimpse of them. I cowered to a seat and made myself comfortable over on a brick-ish texture the very thing I sat on.

I stare along, saw those three beautiful trunks and if given a chance I’d want to vandalize it with your name and mine. But there were people around and they might call the watch and ask me to leave. All I can do is stare and dream.

I look upon that side of me and saw a blank space, how I’d wish you’d sit just trying your best to be comfortable on that chair. I’d laugh and foolish me not to see the gal beside me gestured and turned to my sudden bliss. Bah! I care less of the world to say, it’s you that I think.

A few things I do enjoy alone, lest this blog entry was more of a reflection yet I can’t spare a thought to let it out that most of the time I was by my own, all I have in mind and soul is you alone. Call me crazed. 

Food-ish.

There is indulgence in food and I wonder if it’s a sin. Greed and gluttony maybe though I find that these things brings so much comfort. Junky yet satisfying, I can say if one has not been of the same fondness has never have actually experienced childhood in his life.

My day may be not so good amidst the clamor there is in my daily living, yet finding solace with food is such infantile play.

Lovelorn Lamentations.

Doubt thou the stars are fire,
Doubt that the sun doth move,
Doubt truth to be a liar,
But never doubt I love.

—William Shakespeare

I wake every day the sun I welcome,

Unknown the pangs of the night,

A soul in search

Of deepest longing, hath come by just to hurt.

I sleep at night with all the lore,

Of unfilled absence for what think is right,

For what felt unimaginable,

The poet sings to my soul, the voices that make me ponder.

I see none but your face,

I think none but you,

I feel the desire to have you here,

All I could do is shed a tear.

Is this the torture that is to love??

Ought not should it be more delightful??

Ought not to beguile my core??

For there is but yearning deep in me.

I scar insincerity at night to no avail,

The songs of nymphs, seduces,

The satyrs walk along, eyes of malice,

Of such sensual desires, the food for the wicked.

My prince of delicate as you were,

I bequeath your knight to serve you gladly,

Lead him last, for you’ve enslaved this poet’s heart.

It’s all yours, free him not but your chambers.

Lay him there, he’ll surrender,

A stead for the breaking, a soul hungered.

The battles of a mangled passion, he’ll fight in you.

A scuffle of skin, sweat and feverish craving.

Pass thee, yet all seems blunt,

To have yearned, just as desired,

Be blest the one whom I love.

There is just what needing him as much.

To sleep amidst the tenderness of it all,

To lay there all the sheets, alone.

To kiss the softness of what!?? Dreary, senseless and a bore.

What warmth there’d be laying with you here beside me?

Of the 7 billion, you chose me.

Consider myself very lucky, to love in return,

To have, to need and want you even more.

No judge better, spare lies for thee I dearly love.

To end a song of my heart’s desire,

A stare at your photograph, those urge to let go,

It struck me good, those eyes of yours,

How squeamish I’ve become, what lies beyond those glow!??

Leave me thane lips, red and sweet,

The tail of the brow, a perfect stroke,

A whiff of whispers, a cringe to my soul,

to thane ears, ‘’I love you’’ shall be told.

There is no malice, lest a sinful truth,

My mind is my heart; my heart is my soul,

The mermaid have sang to her sailor,

Come to me; rest with me, in depths unfathomable.

I’ve written no more than a bit of what’s found,

I’ve sang songs, care I not just to be fond with,

I’ve done what things, a charm to impress,

To know behind that, my prince is pleased.

There is but a million more literacy in me,

To defile my decent-like sanity,

I’d sit on that rock every day, look upon the skies afar,

Just over the mountains, past the sea you’ll be waiting for me.

I have a desire. I have a wish. There is my need. My sanity is you.

Forgive me, my prince for I have loved.

Forgive your knight to offer you his hand.

Forgive not what love there is, it has made me your equal.

I love you. I miss you. That Is all.

Thoughts Are Dementing.

Must be the coffee or something… forcing myself to rest it out, a spare of a few winks but I just can’t help to pull you off the hook.

It was on a sandy beach, as white as the unstained cirrus clouds covering the glittering shorelines. The palm trees painting the place a greener more, the blue waves shedding more sand as it comes and go.

Control my imagination as I beg for my thought to stop thinking… to control the very thing I can feel, I’ve grown even wearier for every flashback you make me see.

It is not a crazed idea. I am not disturbed. I just simply can’t get you off of my head. A tattooed painting seared through my brain, never to be removed.

There you were, smiling all bright. Thinly you may seem afar but you stood tall on your cargo shorts, a white shirt inside, finishing your clad with a checkered polo that you always look more handsome. Refined and delightful at the same time.

You wear that smile and everything there comes a blackout of thoughts, you’re no more a dream longer yearned. No more than a reality reached.

I’ll dance with you for a song only we know of; I’ll play the sandy thoughts of my imagination and make the spectacle of emotions I can create. A swirl of clouded romanticism.

I’d spare myself from total loss of sanity. Without a doubt to write an indulgence so profound. Tell tales of man demented of pent-up emotions.

Two Isles, A Longing.

The nights, colder and dark,

A play of pillows and soft blankets.

All the more is there for me to yearn.

My arms should be the one around you, neither wool nor cotton.

For what bliss there is in mind;

To find you close to my heart,

To hear that every beat,

To feel you just as your every breathe.

The morning is a wait for me,

Tomorrow, I’ll spite the real meaning of missing you.

In everyday I’d wake up,

Too long, I’d wonder. You'll be beside me, not too soon.

A Pining Poem.

95 hours, 14 minutes…

Quite the length of waiting,

A deep longing beyond songs,

Of scorching desires and quaintest satisfaction.

Of feeling, such the touch,

The luring of ecstatic flesh,

The silence of lambs, a mating to hunt,

The slights of rekindle, abode thee.

Heat sears the veins of hanker after,

Delusions commands the search for inkling,

Untainted yet sinned.

To fulfill the yearn of a minding flesh.

Forgive me, my love,

The poet says through a muse,

The gentle playwright to his actor,

Of what sort of manly thoughts, seductive.

Plain as the void searches for answers,

The wandering mind, of a heathen insolence,

Spare the likeness a song for the nymph,

The urge of a fawn, edgy.

The misuse of beliefs,

The coarse and benign impulse,

Indulgence, a cause of iniquity,

Dare a poem to incessant wishes of avarice.

Forgive me,

I bare none of cupidity,

I spare none of sedition,

I wronged of a longing.

I sang a song of flesh and bones,

The pangs of dreams engorging,

The scars of reality, amidst.

Carry on, says the bludgeoned author.

I Love You.

Say it before you sleep,

Say it for every year that goes by,

Say it loudly as you freak,

Say it like no one cared what you just said.

It’s something shared not couples alone,

It’s for everybody’s treasured own,

In friends, in lovers,

A quiet stare & a simple nod.

It’s for all,

A message for you and me,

A message shared sincerely,

That message, a penny no more worthy.

I love you is not a word.

I love you is a phrase.

I love you is a not a cliché.

I love you is something true.

I love you.

A Reply.

I have actually been more learned in the past 3 months than my entire lifetime.

Those beautiful months of knowing,

Waking up from every nightmare,

Seizing sunlight after the rain,

And just about grasping every hope in pain.

The blessed year that passed me by,

Was all I can ask to satisfy,

That I have made new friends, shared new memories,

I cried harder like any broken hearted man did.

And as another year welcomed me,

Enticingly gave me new hope,

A vow I took an oath before,

A will as lastly it have been sworn.

To every person I should meet,

Make them part of what my life can be,

A friend, a foe and may it be a partner,

To just love and ask no return.

Self-less, simple and unprejudiced,

I told myself that this may be me so naïve,

Yet there is no joy better known,

To see a smile from someone you know.

To surround myself with the best people,

To give what better things for them to share,

To spread something without expectation,

And just become everybody’s friend.

I give this thought for a friend of mine,

That no matter how hard life passes by,

I find no judge to what you decide,

Know one thing that you’re a friend of mine.

Knock on me, I’ll answer.

I’ll welcome you to my home.

A friend stays forever. There is a friend’s love in everyone.

No Longer A Road Alone.

I take a turn for every day I live in this road I tread. Under the scorching sun of challenges, the terrors and tears for every storm, I’ll find shelter somehow somewhere and at times, I’d just stand there or keep walking wasted, freezing and wet.

Those were the times, I was hurt, I was in pain, I fell…

Now, I’m no lonely man, no lovelorn creature… I’m walking this road, knowing sooner or later I’ll have someone else’s pair of shoes walking beside me. I’ll be waiting.

A BOOK Of YOU.

The moment I learned to read a book and who knows when did that ever start, I was tangled within the pages of a whole new world, a place where I can be who I wanted to become; the prince who owned a castle so big, a beast who can devour cities and just destroy my enemies or a love story where I can always end it with me finding the one I dearly love.

“Books, a written or printed work of fiction or nonfiction, usually on sheets of paper fastened or bound together within covers.”

Since grade school there’d be only one place for me except the four corners of a shabby classroom where the better scene of knowledge is shared — the library was my haven. I’ll spare almost every time of my day to be in that worshiped place of knowing and learning. A place where all the adventures of my mind came to life, I found new friends and believed in fairy tales and romantic love songs.

I’ve abused that sacred place of learning for almost every time I satiate my hunger. To fill the coarse emptiness of my soul for more, to engage in so much exploits, my plead to every new stuff I have to accomplish and for all the good things that come by as I get on with study and self – satisfaction beyond the doubt of reality.

One thing though I never learned in books, may have read some about it and wondered how it felt, and that is how to live LIFE and just LOVE.

Books never taught me to know and lure myself to LOVE, to spread it, to fall upon its gripping end, to tell a story of how my LIFE unfolds in front of me. Still I came to realize I needed no book to understand LIFE and experience LOVE, they both happen. But this book isn’t about how my LIFE went on for it still is a road ahead of me… this is a book about all of us, about that part of us we have clearly enjoyed.

This book of LOVE,

Of YOU,

And of WE.

Fondly, making my way to every book store finding for the best book to read. At some stroll I’ll find some to pack up the gusto of my pride to read and explore lands of unknown.

But this time, I was not looking for a book of someone else’s pre-filled imagination. I want a book about you. Where I can read everything about what is there to be known, to know your name, who gave it to you, who your parents were, how wonderfully made you are for me, how can there be more of you for the both us… a book of you. And just to act foolish for this… this blog wouldn’t be such a big thing to do about if we didn’t really confess everything else. And you were right, why wait!?? Seriously, I was planning for a bigger boom!

All I have now are excerpts from that book I wish to read, a book I know that would mean a lot. My heart aches since that night we let out everything and never cared what the world may say or what our mind tells us. No more lesser than 48 hours and a lot of things just happened to try what would be a great ride and I can’t be more freaked out just to know you’re okay, if you’re doing good and just by far for every moment of your absence I’d think where have you gone, exactly. (My blog doesn’t make sense now! J )

Someday, I’ll have my time for that book to finally sit down with, stare at the sun as it sets and just hold your hand and know you’re there sharing it with me, waiting for the stars to witness just how heavenly it is to have you, to just feel you breathing on my chest as you lay on me, to warm you up with my bare arms, to make you feel how much I’ve longed for that one moment from the day we met.

A book of you. A book still having pages to fill with, hoping it’d be our story to share. A book I’d treasure dear. For I have never been this in love that sleeping was no better than waking up ‘coz when you’re in love, reality is indeed better than dreams.

For one thing is sure… I’d MARK that BOOK for YOU.

L'enfant. Son sourire. Un délice littéraire.

I took my grand mom with me to mass this morning, we were off at half past 10:00am and I was having quite an annoying war with my sniffles as for the whole christened celebration I was fighting the fact that sooner or later my nose would drip with some wet goo from the bowels of my nose.

I was all ears for the priest’s message when a group of mothers came by behind me looking for a seat since none are found around. I took my own and offered it, she was young, skinny but her features seems to disagree quite for her age, she was in her early 30’s, a close form of lumpy belly surrounds her a bit but not too frail to be called fat, she thanked me for the seat and offered it to another woman, a little older than her as so with her looks, I’ll fight off a good age that she’d be hitting later on 30’s too for some consolation.

I’d assume, it were the fair lady’s kids they were both carrying. I never paid much attention at them even they were behind me mumbling over the little girl to behave herself far older than two being cuddled; I was smiling as they try to hush her down. I was on the mass when this tugging came to me… and there it was, the cute baby girl the fair lady was carrying was doing doodle-ish stuff on my pants making it look like she was yanking at it. I looked at her and she was more delighted into doing what she enjoys than minding off what it may be affecting me. All I can do was just smile.

It struck me quick. I don’t what hit me. But seeing that child was more of something than actually having one. There was a simple joy in her smile, something that many of us barely even knew now, some of us may still have a trace of that kind of innocence somehow it gets lost amongst the clutter of age and maturity. A gentle yet contending smile that little baby girl has.

I don’t how to either put an end to this entry or just exemplify the thought of starting it, the thing is, that baby girl struck me with what innocence she has, the fullness of it all, spontaneous, unbound and pure. Something that made me think… something that was for my own joy to appreciate such infantile perfection.

My Sickly Sunshine ^^.

Ill-fated as always I am, all the coolness and dampness my body can feel. Been days of being sick and symptoms creeping in for I have never been any sicker like this, a usual predicament for a pathetic creature like me.

Battling out my impertinent outburst as I sniffle through this blog, barely figuring out how annoying being sick was. Geez… there is nothing I can ask more than just lie here, flat on the floor and mourn over how I can be healthy once more. I do complain of the slightest fatigue to think I can bare even heartache’s killing slash.

To spare a good laugh of it all, I tried to sing and actually dance in unison, saw myself on the mirror I looked even more foolish than having this illness after all.

Waking up with the gloominess around, freezing while my fan is at low, and all the crumbles and noise downstairs from all the busy cooking I tried every bit of strength to just stand and wobble as my head spin off like a yoyo. That was a nag to feel, how the glory days I’ve woken early and just greet the sun with all the smiles I can give.

Amidst this all, panting at every breathe I take even if I just sit here and lay down flat and straight as if I were some corpse ready to be buried all the thoughts in me that I am yet to be the happiest man alive.

That there’d be no sick days for me,

That there’d be that sun after the rain,

A warm cloth to wipe the cold,

And to know that someone out there waits for me.

Hello there my ever dearest, my sleepless night was all but something to think about and waking up to just know you’re fine makes me more of a happy man.

A Hidden Thought.

There are things ought to say,

Some things you’d rather not blame,

For all the confusion is pain,

It takes a whole lot of understanding to clear its way.

At times, the day a bit gloomier,

When all the days it was untrue,

The sun is peeking behind,

Waiting for that one moment to shine.

To hate how things happen,

Is not the real meaning of fate and love.

But to know the right time should come,

Is all what life can all but give up.

A hole so deep in every man’s heart,

Is to fill it with all the yearning he got,

With right amount of life,

Of people, of memories and love.

So, tell me… what’s in it for us?!