i'm so bloody bored i feel like dying

have you listened to RJ-UR(underground radio) 105.9fm?

god, they play good music there. from classic to modern rock. mostly rock. i've heard bush, ted nugent, led zep, mica, stone temple pilots, and even bjork once. like woah! it's a nice fresh break from the stupid, retarded, commercialized music we have now a days.

they play local rock music too. not bad you know, the local stuff. but i'm not much of a fun though.

very very cool music! great for artists, stoners, alcoholics, musicians and music lovers. sometimes the commercials are fun. i would listen to it 24/7 if i can!

but i have a huge problem with the frequency. static all the time. and their DJs SUCK! their cheesy, monotonous and they stutter a lot! like they mispronounce every other word. it's soooo bad. i mean, ok, their diction isn't that bad. but i just want to tear my hair off because it gets frustrating when they keep on stuttering. retarded, tongue-tied baboons.

but anyways, it's cool. try it one time! two time!

love conquers all

i am a ravenous tiger
an unquenchable hunger
masters my wild soul

run away! far away

i am a meek house
my sole purpose in life
is to protect and comfort

come and go as you wish

i am a pail of stagnant water
quivering at the slightest touch
but there's a sea storm

leave me be and it goes stronger

i am a weary bird
quavering wings
barely keep me in air

i need soft, warm branches

i am a big, big tree
take my wood, fruit, sap
take me, take me

i give you my all

i am a human being
with the power to create
and destroy

but love conquers all

having swings

wake me up when september ends

debuts (18th birthdays) this september

breathing for eternity

to see you, even a glimpse, is to witness the lilies bud in spring. your smile is the sparkling of each petal with new life as it welcomes summer. to hear your voice is to listen to the breeze caressing each blade of grass, each blooming rose in a bewitched field. to feel you is feeling each raindrop be relinquished by the raging storm and fall onto the earth as a blessing. your eyes enchant the evening sky. to touch you is to touch the clouds. when your close to me heaven is near. to know you is knowing angels do actually exist. to dream of you is dreaming a fairytale that does not have a happy ending because it never ends. breathing you in is to breathe for eternity. to thinking of you is the only thing i must do everyday so that each day is complete. to remember you is remembering that i am alive and that life is worth living. being with you is searching across and below the expanse of the oceans and realize that home is what i've been looking for.

love. men have disgraced you, tampered with your sovereignty. you're a diamond entombed in mud. occasionally, some will exhume you to your former your luster. but more often than not, they blame you for their failures, their mistakes, the consequences of maltreating your power. they associate their pain with you. how could they? love. you are far from these. these miseries, these complications, these misfortunes are far from you. and they push you away. love. they reject you. they consider you as evil. even men's religions and philosophies condemn you. and they use these to defile your name. it is not you. it is how they practise you. they have made their sins synonymous with you. they mask their trespasses with you. but without you, a dismal world this would become, though it already is. love.

clown by day, inamorato by night

across the tents, day saunters
faceless children struggle
bore through a frosted window

impasto lipstick, trademark smile
shrivelled jester hat
tripping on elongated shoes

as the grey afternoon droops
night's screams flare
reflected by awakened eyes

that scent of sweet strawberries
at times, of exotic coconut
linger, ever so genteel, and inspire

polished songs of rustling leaves
stars painting a luminous genre
divulge tumultuous sentiments

oh the tumult, indeed
brusque, irregular existence
the great tumult, indeed

the spaghetti stains

remember the spaghetti stains
on the clothes
sides of the mouth and cheeks


the gashes on the knees
dirty feet hands
unkempt hair

do you miss them?

the rhymes we sang at school
crooked Es and the awkward Ls
the haphazard but colourful drawings
pure in its spontaniety

and skimming story books
discarding those without pictures
if they do
delved into their straw houses
their vanila castles
ride with winged unicorns
until they were translated to reality

climb trees, pretending to be wendy
or dress up as a princess in gowns

entering houses
itching to look into those cabinets
those ajar doors
their knobs varnished and beguiling
oh the worlds inside them
treasure chests
hidden rooms
antique rocking chairs
fading pictures
tattered books
and what's that thing?

the bed used to be hard to climb onto
the garden used to stretch to eternity

and perhaps most of all

to hold mother's hand again
as when crossing the road
be carried by uncle
face fitting snugly on his shoulders

under dinning tables with sister
counting polished shoes

numb

i think of you. i think about you most of the time. yet, sometimes, i don't. and those "sometimes" are when i am distracted by the intricacies of life. they are those scattered rays of light that elude the cave walls, flowers that color the desert, poems buried in a thick atlas. they are god's gift to me and i am blessed with quietude.

for when i do think of you, a war is waged inside of me. each feelings grapple with another. the wounds are all mine. the blood is all mine. the deaths are all mine. so each time i think of you, i deal with a thousand wounds, a rain of blood and a million deaths. inside me. where no one can see. no one. not even you. and you probably go on enduring your life not knowing that someone is wounded, someone is bleeding, someone is dying because of you.

imagine if i do think of you all the time. well, maybe i did or i've gotten used to it.

homesick

I WANNA GO BACK TO PHILIPPINES!
SOME ONE PLEASE!!!
this is writ ironically

i'm a withering bee
not a flower to be found
the only flower
that waters my soul