He was drawing her in his mind—
Even though her face was vivid as the striking sun
Her eyes, her cheeks, her voice.
Who is she, I asked
And gave me his much loved lines —
The one who got away
My what-could-have-been
A chapter I could not delete
A name that still causes a jab in my heart.
“My soulmate”.
~ raytsdc 26/01/10/darkcorner
-------
You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it - it's the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk. But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk. ~ C. Baudelaire
***
To one of my favorite poets of all time. Here's to you. Cheers! I will get drunk.
Even though you’re far
My sensitivity awakes
I hear you cry, cuss in anger
Unknowingly I’ve caused your pain
In your defense—
I will reserved these water lilies
In time they will bloom
to give you reprieve.
~rtdc09152009~
----------
[postscript]
cornborer strikes back!
We we’re chatting the other day and realized how much comfortable it is to “talk” to him over YM than talking to him personally. I am not much of a YM-user but I have more time to think as I write down my response than when we banter at each other in real situation. I am not a very spontaneous person, but I get stunned talking to him and my mind always meander every time he discusses his ideas to me —things which still surprise me ‘til today.
Anyway he added two or more adjectives to an already wealth of words which he fondly (torture-ly) calls me. No pun intended, he claims. A humble mockery to his paronomasia into practice. I had to strike back and call him “fat ass” and retorted that he needed a body tune up. I wanted to add, "Mag-diet ka kase malapit nang pumutok mga damit mo!" Kaya lang that remark goes for me too. hehe. But what I said was subtle compared to being called “sira ulo and tibo!” ("maasar pikon!"). Buti na lang di ako madaling maasar, lately.
an arresting orb—
a delicate red, in deep orange,
and fading yellow
from the shielding clouds revealed.
a quiet work of art
swathing both a remorse
and an forgotten ache
rekindled by a desire to possess.
subtle shimmer of hope
moving slowly, almost fading
from the rippled water, to sand
to my eagered arms.
a fleeting moment
it was good while it lasts
to describe is much painful
than a quiescent gazing.
I watch you fade.
As once again,
—I walk a dark path.
~rayts/011409/insidemysticallore~
