Aside

Tides

I see it coming,

the running surf coming towards me

  ready to devour all things that I have that is bright as the sun,

and envelop and drown me in momentary sadness.

As the moon waxes and wane, the tide elevates and

completely devour all the hapless souls in its way.

Beneath the salty waters, I didn’t suffocate but

I contemplate as the water passes through my body.

Slowly the salty flood subsides, emancipating me

from the liquid prison, leaving me clean and brand new.

However, the tide is perpetual and gets higher

and higher as time goes by. It will come back

for me, each time I try to leave those moments

filled with salty tears.

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My Edge

Mocking Bird Down

lusika33-erupting-volcano

I will find my way,
back to the edge.
The edge of the mouth
of the volcano that once
invited me in, with a pulsing
promise of complete silence.
In rest. In the last prayer. In the
belly of a burning, churning whisper.
Freedom, it tells me. A reconnection
with the life I left behind, to come to
this wretched make shift cardboard box
of an existence. So crowded and busy and
littered with unnecessary trinkets and
sentimental ornaments that
look and sound human,
but are so far from it.

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Words

These string of words will never exist,

if I didn’t touch your face,

kiss your lips,

dance with you last night,

feel the warmth of your skin,

give life to the butterflies in my stomach and

meet you.

As the stars will never appear in the sky, if the night never existed.

Rains of May

Lightning scratched the sky; the streaks

of golden light was slowly eaten by

the heavy grey nimbus clouds.

The incessant rains plummeted into

the dry earth, filling those wide cracks

caused by the intense heat.


During the torrential shower, various

flowers sprang up from the dead ground:

roses,lilies,daisies, and violets.

all of those were the ones you love to

get your hands on and grow into your garden.


However, I didn’t find any shelter in the

continuous precipitation, leaving me

soaked in rainwater, then a hazy shadow

was sketched in the misty air.

Slowly, it started to move and came towards me.


Before me, you stand and cheerfully offered

me to stay under your umbrella. The blue

air that embraced us became warm as red.

Our lips touched each other. The sudden

kiss gave life to my dry soul, I felt that

flowers began to grow within me, their

roots entangled in my bones and organs.

Like the rains of may, you have grown

fruits in my dry empty desert.


Now birds could sing songs again within

me. Fish could swim in my flowing bloodstream.

Too late

I

Words are like steel, they decay and rust too,

as the longevity of the interval of the sun and

the moon continues, it becomes meaningless.

II

The late “I love you” will become a goodbye;

late apologies will become refusals and

late sentiments will be cast with indifference.

III

No matter how much you chase me with

the fastest horse in town, you will never catch

me because it’s too late.

IV

The delayed “I will save you” has failed to rescue

me from drowning in the deep sea, hence the chambers

of my frail lungs are filled with the salty water, killing the

life out of me.

V

It’s so sad that the thing we had once

shined like starlight, is now faded because

you have awoken from your sleep when

time has already flapped its wings.

words by oceancatman

Saint

While walking along the hustling stores of Megamall, I happen to pass by a shop adorn with simple monochromatic acrylic paneling, it wasn’t filled with customers though. The thing that caught me was the throng of religious figurines displayed in front. They varied from one another: some gilded with gold, some dressed like a doll, some simply designed with cheap paint, but they all reminded me of you. Their fair skin tone and rosy cheeks, eyelashes that flutter like the wing beat of a butterfly and tiny lips that hungers for that kiss.

Somehow I didn’t dare to pass through the store’s doors because of  the unwanted feeling emanated from the eyes of the saints; tiny glass orbs attached with long lashes seeking out for a hapless to condemn,  I remember your brown eyes, how they made me clueless and lost like an abandoned kitten in a dark alley and the same time, spun me like one of your toy ballerinas.

I feel that if I buy one of them, my knees would bruise for the prayers that would never be granted or I would be losing sleep because it will watch me all night long, not because of its guardianship but of its excitement for my soul’s departure. shivers ran down into my spine.

The worst fear is not the shower of blessings that I would never receive but the presence of that pristine sculpture in my home, for it would bring back the flesh in your ghost. Again, I would be a sinner because of my undying faith in you. You will attach strings on my skin and play me like a marionette and I would love the monster within that saintly body.