Rewind with Lace.
We will not see each other again and I will go back to Baguio. We were 5 in the car, I
was wearing a yellow shirt and a khaki shorts, it was raining and I kept still. I am in a roadtrip with my cousins because we do not want to see relatives going away, bidding goodbye.So we decided to go. It was raining and it was like ice was falling on the windshield.We stopped in Pangasinan to find a resort.We were stuck in a place where we do not know anyone. It was 1 am when we finally decided to stop and rest. The place was dim, and it was like i was time warped during the time when my grandfather holds his rifle and throws bombs a
The only rose floating on the ocean. She was wearing knuckles on her feet, the key lost. I will save you my dear, please dont drown. i will save you. i will freakin save you. No one will harm you again. i got myself wounded from a gig but i will save you. You laughed and i did too. We sat together on a bench overlooking the vast ocean of dreams and of death. We lay down on a cold matress of yellow and green. Nothing happened. We slept together. Nothing happened and nothing will happen. I ate an apple and you ate an orange. The knuckles are still on your cold feet. I can smell metal.
We will not see each other again and I will go back to Baguio. We were 5 in the car, i was wearing a yellow shirt and khaki shorts, it was raining and i kept still. I am with my cousins having a roadtrip because we do not want to see relatives going away and bidding goodbye. We stopped in Pangasinan to find a resort. We had fun. After spending the night with wasps we went on with the trip and found ourselves in Baguio. We longed for Baguio, we grew up there. The water tank as big as a house. We went on to Session Road because i want my ears pierced. I found myself buying the green and brown weaved bracelet. One for me and one for her.
Draw those eyes on mist.
Three frames with Japanese women.
Bed full of flowers.
A thunderous roar of silence.
Candlelit room with a smell of lavander.
Crawl on crazy cut marbles.
Oil to paint the eyes of sanity.
Linger on the smooth glass of
time and memory.
She laid down with a pen
on her hand.
Eyelid bowing to the rays of the sun.
Repackaged with vulnerable memory.
Red dots coming after you.
Teleport into the realm of
unseen sirenity.
A bed full of envelopes
of dreams.
Filtered.
I will rescue the unsaved.
Slash time and space
with unfiltered memory.
To save a turtle's life
is to continue walking.
The sunshine with
boats on the sore.
Repression.
The silence is felt but
not of the mist.
The memory of the owl.
They haven't seen each other;
not like the water and shore.
It was with a huge glass of martini
and the sounds of random whispers.
Dust on the banging headphones
of circles and alleys.
Clear night sky with no smoke
coming out of the waiter's mouth.
The black straw was sanity.
Learn to fly.
Spilled coffee on a sunlight
colored Hollywood shirt.
Spinning around on a flying fan.
My feet pricked by small
invisible needles.
Sanity is held by thr blue pillow.
The stars never looked so lonely
as it does tonight.
And all the helpless souls within her,
drowned.
Just because she thought she was loved.
The larks were mute and so the
nightingales.
She cried helpless.
The glow made by her smile had faded away.
Then she wondered, should she ask for plea?
She knelt with bleeding knees,
her bones cracked and muscles in pain.
Tears had fallen upon the flowers
beneath her.
The trees reflected what she felt
and bowed with respect.
The nightingales then began to
sing the symphony of her heart.
The synphony made her shiver with
such fright and made her run
through the darkness of her heart
The red wallet.
The mirror.
The orange slippers.
The Game of the Generals.
The blue paper bag.
The pink elephant.
The crayons.
The packing tape.
The four-level drawers.
The sticker on my cabinet.
The blue pillow.
The vevlvet perfume case.
My prescription.
You.
The morning mist touches my skin.
Silent and calm.
My restless memory of longing and passion
creeps into the sleepless soul.
I will remember you.
For you have been my home and my star
under a dark night.
After the harsh winds,
I danced with my heart
on my palm.
I stopped and looked at it beating.
After months of drought,
I am showered again by the rain.
Now I write again,
with my heart beating.
Ten minutes and the show will end.
Are you happy?
I am.
I'm still awake, wishing I was there.
I will wait for you on the big
umbrella outside.
Five minutes and the show will end.
What are you wearing?
I can still smell your perfume.
I am looking at the white light.
The spotlight.
Are you tired?
I am.
I see you on the pillows
of my cold bed.
tick, tock
tick, tock
tick, tock
tick, tock
tick
tock
The show is over.
Sleep.
The red wallet.
The mirror.
The orange slippers.
The Game of the Generals.
The blue paper bag.
The pink elephant.
The crayons.
The packing tape.
The four-level drawers.
The sticker on my cabinet.
The blue pillow.
The vevlvet perfume case.
My prescription.
You.
The stars never looked so lonely
as it does tonight.
And all the helpless souls within her,
drowned.
Just because she thought she was loved.
The larks were mute and so the
nightingales.
She cried helpless.
The glow made by her smile had faded away.
Then she wondered, should she ask for plea?
She knelt with bleeding knees,
her bones cracked and muscles in pain.
Tears had fallen upon the flowers
beneath her.
The trees reflected what she felt
and bowed with respect.
The nightingales then began to
sing the symphony of her heart.
The synphony made her shiver with
such fright and made her run
through the darkness of her heart
They haven't seen each other;
not like the water and shore.
It was with a huge glass of martini
and the sounds of random whispers.
Dust on the banging headphones
of circles and alleys.
Clear night sky with no smoke
coming out of the waiter's mouth.
The black straw was sanity.
Learn to fly.
Spilled coffee on a sunlight
colored Hollywood shirt.
Spinning around on a flying fan.
My feet pricked by small
invisible needles.
Sanity is held by thr blue pillow.
Red dots coming after you.
Teleport into the realm of
unseen sirenity.
A bed full of envelopes
of dreams.
Filtered.
I will rescue the unsaved.
Slash time and space
with unfiltered memory.
To save a turtle's life
is to continue walking.
The sunshine with
boats on the sore.
Repression.
The silence is felt but
not of the mist.
The memory of the owl.
Draw those eyes on mist.
Three frames with Japanese women.
Bed full of flowers.
A thunderous roar of silence.
Candlelit room with a smell of lavander.
Crawl on crazy cut marbles.
Oil to paint the eyes of sanity.
Linger on the smooth glass of
time and memory.
She laid down with a pen
on her hand.
Eyelid bowing to the rays of the sun.
Repackaged with vulnerable memory.
We will not see each other again and I will go back to Baguio. We were 5 in the car, i was wearing a yellow shirt and khaki shorts, it was raining and i kept still. I am with my cousins having a roadtrip because we do not want to see relatives going away and bidding goodbye. We stopped in Pangasinan to find a resort. We had fun. After spending the night with wasps we went on with the trip and found ourselves in Baguio. We longed for Baguio, we grew up there. The water tank as big as a house. We went on to Session Road because i want my ears pierced. I found myself buying the green and brown weaved bracelet. One for me and one for her.
Current Residence: Quezon City, Philippines Favourite genre of music: im not particular on genres. MP3 player of choice: ipod shuffle- just like what i have. Favourite cartoon character: marvin the martian
Favourite Visual Artist
i will meet him/her someday.
Favourite Movies
mirrormask, fisher king, shark's tale, little giants, little rascals
Favourite Bands / Musical Artists
the corrs, alanis morisette, imogen heap, enya, greagorian, maroon 5,u2, ahh they're just too m
i have to make a collection of poems by the end of this year. i'm joining the Gawad Likhaan particularly in the category Poetry in English. apparently i have to make 50 poems or so...
i have to finish my thesis, and hopefully our thesis coordinator would extend the deadline until the last day of the finals examination...
i have to think about why i'm lusting for my mentor. crappy thoughts. i should've forgotten it, i thought it was just the effect of alcohol the last night we we're in Baguio for our Creative Writing workshop. Now, the thought never lets me sleep. Creeps inside like a ghost longing to hold someone's arm...
will I tell it to
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HAPPY FRIENDSHIP WEEK!!
Send this to at least 15 people you think are pretty sweet, including me if you care for me!
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All the best. Please continue sending you're own love to those you care for.