colours
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Posted:Sep 18, 2008 11:38 am
Last Updated:Sep 27, 2008 7:02 pm 8095 Views
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After the rain,
If the rain ever stop,
Once in a while,
You could see the dark rainbow, painted across my dark horizon...
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missing
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Posted:Sep 18, 2008 11:28 am
Last Updated:Sep 29, 2008 4:58 am 7007 Views
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Weird...
Downright weird.
That’s me.
Chaotic but tranquil.
Sane but insane.
Empty but full.
My mind is all of it.
Just too weird...
Storms rage in a clear sky.
Flowers bloom against the bright white of snow.
Birds swim, fish fly.
Possibilities are limitless.
I walk windswept fields,
Swim in clear pools,
Admire majestic mountains;
Without even leaving my own home.
Thoughts flicker and scurry,
Some half-finished threads
Weaving worlds of their own.
Just need a little prodding, that’s all.
Words flow from my fingers,
Taking those threads,
Weaving,
Stitching,
Creating...
Ah, but others could find such joy!
My emotions are a wreck.
I’m happier than words can say,
Then gloomier than the heart can tell.
On the mountain peak one moment,
Bottom of the barrel the next.
My mind is seriously out of whack.
Maybe I need more sleep...
No structure,
No plans,
No... Firmness, I suppose...
It’s all wild.
I gibber of things people don’t understand,
Whisper what others scoff at,
Restrain what threatens to break free.
I am chaotic.
I am insane.
I am unstructured.
And it’s all that’s keeping me from losing my mind.
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Radio
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Posted:Sep 18, 2008 8:07 am
Last Updated:Oct 29, 2008 1:55 pm 7739 Views
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I remember the good old days when only a handful of people can afford a television set. In fact, when I was growing up, I do not know anybody who owns one. But everybody I know had a transistor radio, including my father. I will never forget those long walks to school, I had to leave my house when my favourite series starts, but I can follow its progress along the way because every house I passed by was tuned in on the same program. It wasn’t a miracle, for that time; there was only two leading radio station, DZRH and DWWW. The rest were either Chinese speaking stations especially and the night or ones that had so much static you cannot understand a thing.
Together with the rest of my small world, I was addicted to two noon time programs; the one called “scimitar” about an oriental prince who been cast away by his own father the king, but protected by his queen mother (who is not his real mother but nobody knows) and witch godmother eng-eng (who is btw the true queen and his real mother but been cursed by a mighty evil wizard, the antagonist of the whole story)
Scimitar has three older brothers: ak-bhar = the oldest, the bravest, and the hunkiest
of them all, Arias = the fool, unstable, traitor middle brother, and Aran = the youngest, honest, good at heart prince.
It’s the Narnia/Lord of the rings/etc. of that era, complete with horses, magic swords (scimitar’s own short blade can change colour and length to suits any situations) his witch god/mother rides on a magic leaf called “dahon ng dapad,”(dig that!)
Together with his constant companion, the intelligent magical called” Putim”(ha ha) his quest is to save his kingdom secretly and from afar since he cannot even get close to his home being a persona non grata. Tough cookie to digest for a little , prince or no prince.
The other program is about Tagani (also the title) a local Tarzan. His apple of the eye is a girl called Maya instead of Jane, the rest of the concept is the same including the elephants and monkeys. I remember the start of the series, someone calling: Taganiiiii! Yahaaaaaayahhhhhhh!!! Laughable if you think of it, but not that time.
What amazed me about those series are the sounds! Very unique. They must have relied on it so much to transport the listener to the place where everything is happening and give them a visual feast by just using what ever is available to create those unbelievable yet realistic sounds which make millions of people glued to the radio at the same hour every each day. Simply magical!
And who can forget those nightly scary horror presentation complete with howling of the dogs, the Balagtasan which awaken my interest in debate, those amateur singing contests during the weekends, Harana, another dying tradition, Tiya Delly and Kuya Cesar, Flor de luna (started on the radio), Matudnila and all those heart-warming programs which became part of almost every households across the country. Where are they now? Most of them are nothing but a vague childhood memories, part of the past, a fragment of slowly dying culture like many. I miss them.
I can still see my father lining his black and red eveready batteries outside under the sun to prolong the life of these little electrical cell, which became very valuable source of information; not only from his make-believe enchanted world but in real life as well. I can’t remember anymore how many times his little transistor radio warned us about typhoon, flooding, and all those natural calamities. You see, when you’re living in a fishpond in the middle of nowhere very close to huge different kind bodies of water, you better be alert.
Anybody out there who can relate and remember what I’m talking about? Or like most people you have forgotten it too, along with most of your childhood memories that got buried under and between the current digital technologies?
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Trust me
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Posted:Sep 16, 2008 9:13 am
Last Updated:Sep 23, 2008 6:55 pm 8161 Views
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It tasted like sour milk, if you want to know the truth.
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Friends?
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Posted:Sep 16, 2008 8:00 am
Last Updated:Jan 22, 2009 7:25 am 7744 Views
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Teary eyed she stared from the window, thinking of what had been and what was to come. The dark clouds drifted by above her head, matching her emotions, threatening to rain, just as the tears threatened to make their way slowly down her cheek. There had been no time to say a proper goodbye, nor had there been time to say what she really felt; not that she could have managed either. The need to stay, to be able to be herself was overwhelming, and yet she knew that things would have to be different if she did stay. Nothing could happen. She would need friends, not lovers, if she were to move and she knew not whether that would be possible but then, was that not what they were now, Friends?
Confused and in a daze she allowed the scenery to glide past, not taking in the view that she had come to love in her visits, knowing not whether she would get to see it again, nor whether she could cope to see it all again. It felt more like home then home did, and that was something she could not comprehend, for nowhere should feel more like home then where her family lived, surely?
As the river left her sight, she thought upon the boy whom she knew not what she felt about. He meant the world to her and yet she did not know in what way. He made her feel complete and yet to say she loved him was something she was not ready to do. There was too much within those words that made them seem wrong. They were overused, worn out, misunderstood. They meant nothing of what they were meant to mean any more and it was that which confused their use. You could love almost anything and anyone, making the meaning change every time that it was used, confusing the true meaning and making it into something that it was not. She could not use these words until she was sure that she meant them in the way that she wanted them to mean. She could not lie to him and say them without being certain herself.
She could not sleep, did not want to sleep, nor could she daydream for there was too much within her mind to allow her to do so. As they travelled along the roads to their destination she allowed words to flow from her mind, thinking them over, looking at them from every angle. A poem began to form; not a great one but one that said what she wished it too none the less. She wrote it down upon her pad of paper, using only the light of the moon to see the ink flow onto the page.
‘I love you
You are my very existence
But in what way?
With all the love that can leave my heart
You are dear to me like no other
You make me feel alive like no other
But alas, it can not be
For distance is the key
All that has happened to me
Whilst in your presence
Will last forever more within my mind
But none of this answers the question
In what way?
These words
Their very use
Is over rated these days
Used in so many ways
The meaning gets lost; confused
Even within my head
One day it will become clear
I just hope it does not happen too late’
Her mind wondered back to him, allowing her pen and pad to drop back into the confines of her bag, forgotten for the moment, ready to be picked back up at a later date. Would it be too late? Did he even feel the same? How would she know? So many questions! where the answers were not apparent. The very fact that she had to ask them showed that she knew not enough to make any decisions. The truth was she knew little about the situation other then what her heart was telling her. She had not spoken to him about it as she should have done, through fear of the answers that may flow from his lips. She knew within her mind that she was not good enough for him and yet she did not want to believe it. She wanted to believe his words, the words he had repeated so many times in their brief time together.
Too move up and to find out the truth was what she wanted. She knew that she would find it hard to be away from home but then, to her home was becoming more and more there rather then where her family was. She knew that moving up would entail making new friends (not that she had many where she was anyways), finding a new job (something she was used to doing) and finding somewhere to live (anywhere would do). There was so much to take into consideration; So much to understand that she did not comprehend. So much she needed to sort out but had no idea how. She would have to live with what she had, work out things within time, but how long could she carry on this lie of a life? She needed more then she had and needed to find a way of coping without what she had not got.
A sad smile slipped onto her face as she thought of him and started to sleep, hoping that her dreams were not going to be those of sadness but more of those that would help her remember her few days of bliss.
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gee...
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Posted:Sep 14, 2008 1:20 pm
Last Updated:Sep 30, 2008 4:20 am 8541 Views
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i think he forgot something
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drifting
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Posted:Sep 14, 2008 1:10 pm
Last Updated:Sep 20, 2008 4:14 pm 7523 Views
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whenever i look outside my window
it's always full moon
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this
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Posted:Sep 14, 2008 1:00 pm
Last Updated:Sep 17, 2008 6:41 am 6854 Views
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...seems a nice idea
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caged
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Posted:Sep 11, 2008 9:01 am
Last Updated:Sep 15, 2008 2:32 am 6856 Views
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Crack the television open and search for signs of a future.
Use the remaining wires as str*ngling tools.
I’d cut all the phone lines to feel inner peace.
Man robs me of any butterflies
Now dead;
B*rnt;
K*lled by electricity; spears of transmission signals
Of all things cold.
You preserve our love in a fridge.
And declare your heart through heated credit cards.
I am all fire.
In fear of frost
Don't touch my passion
Just because yours is lost.
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fools
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Posted:Sep 11, 2008 8:23 am
Last Updated:Sep 14, 2008 12:38 pm 6913 Views
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I gazed upon the crowd,
Set back from the lights,
I will have an open mind, I avowed,
Starring at the scene in the dark nights.
A few came forward,
They were decorated with smiles,
My mind moved shoreward,
A moss, but with different styles.
The sound boomed on,
My dream began to fade,
All ambition was gone,
For their feet started to parade.
The most unholy of goals,
Running to no where,
Unlike those tainted fools,
I would escape into thin air.
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