Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘fly’

They are silent, yes, they are silent.

I imagine them talking on corners

sounding like the bees ready to sting.

And the beehive is ripe and heavy

with gossip running over like honey.

 

The audience, they lined up like stones-

incensed hot coals ready to be casted

and thrown at statues and pillars

breaking under the weight of judgment.

 

They are silent, yes, they are silent.

A mockery of sorts, they like the show.

Shadow puppets will scream and whistle.

They are victims to a phantom in a circus

and worship the magician with words.

 

I wish the sword will tangle with tongues,

lacerate the innards and spill the beans.

I wish the fish will bite the bait

and see the hook clasp hard the mouth

to stop fishy things from overflowing.

 

They are silent, yes, they are silent.

The blind is not actually blind

but open eyes would like to see illusions.

They have ears but do not want to hear

truth as sharp at its double edges.

 

Applause will fly like white doves

for the trick and the disguise deceives

the gullible and naivete. Silent ones

whose ignorance excuses no one.

They are silent, yes, they are silent.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

His past smells of a ditch

drying up its putrid stink

as stale as the street air.

It belongs to a smoggy neighborhood.

In the memory of tattered rags

flapping like flags on the clothesline.

As if dreams can be scavenged

out of the hilly mounds

of garbage, dumping its gifts

of someone else’s trash turning

into someone else’s fortune.

 

No one cared about armpits

getting wet and sour for hours,

as long as the bad odors

can promise him little money

to buy fish sauce for rice.

Sniffing heaven on earth-

little angel never complaining

about life, about the linger-

of those occasional whiffs

from the broken sewer.

Nor the rising sting of steam

emanating from his broken skin

pierced by the cruel sun.

 

Nor inhaling the dry cough of cars

and buses farted poison.

The way he exhaled yesterday

walking on a pavement slow,

feeling the throbbing locomotion

churn on his empty stomach.

A street urchin squeezing the crowd

like a fly hopping on a hope

above the grease and grime

that smeared a childhood.

 

He won’t cover the past

with today’s perfume

nor sanitize its images

in suds of detergent.

He’s not ashamed

of the scent of his past-

the smell of poverty

that swarmed his innocence

and have walked

the muddy line across

the nook and cranny

of his every bones.

He survived them all.

Read Full Post »

An invisible force within.

Sudden freedom.

A new life

for the first time,

this heart revealing

a paradise

 

amidst the simplicity

of things and the hours

walking around thankful

this morning.

 

Like light rays streaming

into dappled shadows

of the leaves above

dancing on the grass.

 

Such, such is my soul

as hope springs.

Lifting my feet

lighter and flying.

 

No past.

No future.

Only this moment-

just pure and joyful

simply being alive.

 

My miracle.

Read Full Post »

Look at me.

A corporate soldier.

Working wounded

in the company of men-

wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Deceiving as snakes.

Cunning as sharks.

 

And here, the desk became

my war machine. Riding

in the engines of my brain.

Words and strategies wielding

like speeding bullets, as weapons.

 

I must learn the art of combat.

 

And it’s going to rain today.

But not of the sky.

But with paper planes

piling up in my incoming tray,

touching down like flies.

 

The cubicle is a battleground.

 

I need a saving grace, ejecting

from this capsuled seat. When

life signals on a high wire-

blinking signs of warning.

Maneuvering survival,

evading a free fall.

Beating the deadline.

 

I’m burned out.

Read Full Post »

Mid-air  in my waking dream

are clouds and clouds away.

Like migratory creatures

homing their way into

transient frontiers.

Lulled by the rhythms

of the humming steel.

It churns anxiously, and

earnestly of home.

 

While the hands of time

back paces into

a counterclockwise.

The book of days

Suddenly flipped

to a journey of old memories.

Of  some silky threads

of years slipped through

in a hindsight.  As if

I didn’t left yesterday.

 

Then, something in me

fluttered like a fly.

Or is it really?

Touching down

this imagination to a farce.

 

As I watch the blue sea

became the bleakest

monotony of rust-colored roofs.

And the bumpy runway

made me remember

of the past.  That is much more likely-

today.  When nothing ever happened

to the ones I left behind- yesterday.

 

The gossamer of traffic.

Life entangled mazes

survival in the loop.

Sleep walking and heady

as the smog filtered

in my nostrils.

A reality I denied to believe.

Have I gone too far?

Too fast. Too soon.

As if I didn’t left?

Read Full Post »

Came down the confetti

among the concrete gardens

of skyscrapers in the city

we embrace-

the promise of freedom

remembering the days

when you conquer

the hearts of men.

Frail and afraid

among the chains,

blind slaves to tyranny.

 

Bye, bye

yellow butterfly.

 

Flutter your wings

amidst the tempest

set free, unafraid

of your glory-defining

turbulent life.

 

Like the many yellow

ribbons tossed in the wind,

a salutation to dawn.

An ode to the beauty

of your kindred spirit.

 

Bye, bye

yellow butterfly.

T’was a long,

long way journey home.

Fly away graciously

among the angels

heaven bound.

Read Full Post »