This is how the writer writes

Poetry, Writing

How does her mind meet a thought?

Sometimes it is that magical coincidence of words crossing ways

like serendipity

    — finding something good she didn’t even look or ask for

But at times, too, it’s just one smelly ‘spell’

when her mind meets (or never meets) a thought

like constipation

   — ‘laboring’ so hard

         or feel

        like waiting a decade

        before something ‘glorious’ comes out

This is how the writer writes.

Image result for writing

photo: loyola.edu

Blanko

Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

Like the eyes of my wandering thoughts

To the ceiling at night

The  eager  heartbeat of the brushes

To a clean canvass

The blank countenances on a jeepney

 

An untold narrative comes out

Of the infinite spaces

Of the undefined

Waiting to conceive

A story

A song

Or

A sigh

When I stare at an empty sheet.

Blank page 3c

Write from the Heart

Poetry, Writing

Syllables fight to unite

To incarnate the thought

Of a questioning wise

Like an inch by inch motion

Waiting for the perfect beat

Waiting for gravity to drop

Every faultless intuition

Inhabit a kingdom

Of an untarnished sheet

The toughest battleground

In the infinite spaces

Of human mind where lies

This war of words

How do you really draw them

right from the heart?

Write

from

the

Heart.

Image

(photo:www.flashxml.net )

#reminscence

A Midnight Dream

Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

She fights for her thoughts as an indomitable warrior
fights for the people’s liberation from
The nights of terror that must unface

She sings the hymn of the soul and the Divine
the music of quietness that shouts at the ears
of arteries beneath the chest that beats
She listens to her own breath
She cries and sobs the bitter-sweet angst
She weeps

again
like a child and a century old mistress

of life.
She counts the hours with daydreams
and colors it with illusions
Alive as the crimson, and multitude of memoirs
She scribbles with her blood

She dances with her silhouette and the trees
to the air that seduces
her cerebral to ecstatic serenity
She frees
and freezes from the coldness that
hypnotizes her spirit to an ephemeral escape

She smells fragrance in beguiling pages as it transcends
her to antiquity and ages
She kisses every impending notion voices may arouse
and argues with her sensibility

She devours their charm of wisdom like a hungry wild
She lives in an empty sheet.
where she finds a sacred asylum

The ink blots
She awakens her sanity

(April 22, 2012)

photo from pinterest

photo from pinterest

Nakaka-miss Magsulat

Poetry, Uncategorized, Writing

Nakaka-miss
ang pagsusulat

tungkol sa mga bagay bagay na gustong gusto mo 

talagang isulat.
Di yung tipong kailangan mong halikan
ang labi ng sandamakmak na tasa ng kape
para pawiiin ang antok  
at kung no anong klaseng gasolina
ang makakapag paandar ng makinang naghihikahos
Parang kumakapa sa dilim ng mga salitang
lumilipad sa kalangitan
Tila sapilitang sumisisid sa karagatan
at malulunod dahil hindi alam

ang kahahantungan

Nakakamiss
Yung tipong di mo na rin kailangang ibabad
ang mga paa mo sa maligam-gam na tubig
para gisingin ang buong
diwa para sa mga makabuluhang kaisipang
hindi maintindihan
Nakaka-miss ang nakakaaliw na ingay
ng aking puso.
Nakaka-miss ang
tuloy
tuloy
na
daloy
ng
wika..
malayang gumagalaw
ang pluma
na sumasaliw sa musika
ng damdamin na nagsusumigaw

Hanggang
sa

huling

tuldok.

(March 2012 #Blogging vs Academic Paper # Research Essays vs Poetry

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