welcoming the breather
as my mind squeeze the
already parched tabula
every drip of a letter seems
like also brushing my blood
dry as it splatter on blank
paper hoping they do
make sense
it is hard when heaven
haven't wept for so long
there must be an end
this dismal routine of working
the conveyor belt of medical
care sounding like a bloated frog
awhile wishing that the old self
of maybe 2 decades ago is still
there, buried but nevertheless
there while I demand for signs
it is hard when heaven
haven't wept for so long ...
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Sticky sugar violently stirred round and round the couldron ... flames gnashing at the pit cooking the dark brown concoction into perfection. A definite Filipino dessert. Kalamay-hati ... like my words, my offering of odes and prose to the world ... my eclat, my voice of triumph and desolation ...
LUNANGON
There's a lot of things to know .. as there's a lot of things to be changed. A passive mind needs to be de-constructed. Apathy needs to be torched. To know is to transform. And to write is already to choose which side you want to be on.
