Almost Qarah

Art, Love, Poetry, Uncategorized

She turned her head to her right

She caught your eyes in sight

You smiled to her delight

One, two, three, four, five

She’s locked in gaze alive

Swiftly hypnotic,

Beautifully chaotic

Five-ish, afternoon before sunset

You met but never met

Graveyard of the brave hearts

An unknown story departs

A pair of wheels

A pair of strangers

Gaze exchangers

 bike poem1

Title this painting!

Art, Photography, Uncategorized

Late last night, I felt the impulse to translate my unspoken words, cried and ‘uncried’ tears into something like.. art. (Come on, let me call it so, in my own right! Tehee! ) I am very sorry for the odd appearance of my old toothbrush. It played the role of a paintbrush. LET ME HEAR YOUR TITLES!! 🙂 Thanks in advance!

my painting22

my art framed 23

my art art2


when brokenness becomes tangible

Love, Poetry, Uncategorized

the throat


as the voice
begins to shiver
like the water
of a leaked dam
its force
is mightier
than anything
could ever flow
will this ever cease?

like a wind
of a hurricane
a nature’s
any mortal’s
blows it
harder to outpour

the flux
of tangible
are released
from the
of her soul
the stories
of our faces
it consoles
the memory
of the
bleeding heart

never been
this painful


World, She is a Hero

Family, Uncategorized

She is my oldest best friend.

She could be the noisiest person in the world when and before you wake me up in the morning, but her silence is such a comfort when I need her to listen to me. Her temper could get so bad at times, and I don’t understand. But at the end of the day, nothing makes her less adorable.

She’s the only 64 year-old beautiful woman I can laugh with like a high school barkada (friend).  She’s always amused by my story- telling antics especially when I talk about my countless embarrassing moments and matters of the heart.  I like how our generation gap does not matter in friendship. First, she’s 64, but she borrows my clothes and she prefers to wear it than clothes from her ‘supposed’ section in a department store. Second, I am not even half of her age, but she accepts to be taught at times and appreciates the wisdom I can share from advise to (behavioral) correction, especially when I need to impersonate her first before I give my point. She laughs like there’s no tomorrow. I seem to have gotten it from her. And it’s crazy. Her heart doesn’t age, but rather grows–like a flower beautified by dawns, sunrises, twilight and dusk– by changing seasons and passing days.

On a less poetic note, she’s my only friend who feeds me so well.  She’s been working hard on making her dream for me to come true. That is to for me to gain pounds each time I chew. That has also been my dream. But we have failed so far as my body seemed to have stopped growing since high school. But it doesn’t matter because she’s still (one of the very few) best cooks in the world I have ever encountered. My taste buds judge every food eaten outside her kitchen according to her cooking.

She’s a friend who doesn’t always agree, and it’s right. She disagreed with some of my decisions when I followed my heart to take risks and step out of some comfortable zones because I want to ‘fly’. Nevertheless, she still would always be there to pick me up when I fall, back me up and unfailingly understand (though angrily at times). She remains as the most humongous fan. She is not perfect and neither am I.  And it’s alright. I have hurt her and she has hurt me too, but forgiveness comes one moment after that. We have a lot of differences but they don’t make us love each other less. I realize that we do not need to be perfect to be the best. I know that among my friends, she has the biggest heart to unselfishly and unconditionally give of her life for me. That kind of giving does not take away, it adds her so much joy.

Nothing in this world would keep us apart because her blood runs in my veins.  Aside from what God has done for me, nothing in this world would ever compare to what she did on the hospital bed 27 years ago. That is to painfully endure the incomparable, excruciating physical pain just for me to experience this beautiful life. And the tales of her sacrifices never ended there. She is a mighty woman.

Whenever she caresses me when sleeping beside her, I get the sweetest feeling of a precious infant that just came out of her womb.

My oldest best friend is my mother. Someday I am going to be the best mother and the best friend to my future kids because I have experienced being a child and a friend to her.

Today is her day. I want the world to know that she is a hero.



Happy mother’s day to all the mothers and single dads in the world! Today is SHEroes day! 😀



no other way

Faith, Life Lessons and Impressions, Poetry, Uncategorized

to end
there is no other way
to start

to live
there is no other way
to ‘die’

to find him
there is no other way
to stop seeking

to see yourself
there is no other way
to see Him

to speak
there is no other way
to listen

to get that
there is no other way
to give this up

to go there
there is no other way
to stop here

to lead
there is no other way
to follow

to fill your cup
there is no other way
to empty it

to gain
there is no other way
to lose

in life
there is

the way

of  paradox



photo credit:

The Swing Monologue

Photography, Poetry, Uncategorized

SWing awAY
their souls’ clandestine


the PLace, the dAY
like they have never been

the SWeetest thING
that she has never seen

SWear and sING
the song they only know

FLowers and skY
the high and the meadow

the BLack and the yellOW
the friend and the foe