The Waited

There around the corner.

Just around that corner.

The waited heads.

With anticipation that is

In the blushes on the cheek.

In the stretched corners of the mouth.

In the faster steps of the boots.

Right around the corner.

Just turn that corner.
The waiter stands.

With anticipation that is

In the hands in the pockets.

In the eyes behind the glasses.

In the silence and in the calm.

Three,

two,

one...

there.

Falling

Falling was easy.

And so was landing.

What wasn't.

Was getting up and going.

Sonnet II

The wind was whimsical and vigorous.

She took my hands and said, "This way"

As they stayed cold, palsied to the dismay.

The storm was merciless and tremulous.

He took the way our from my sight

And left me astray with no heat or light.

Let not that journey of solitude repeat any longer.

Let not the crucial nights come again to loiter

And sore my heart to pass it alone.

Let me reach to the light so shone.

Let me now sit on the top of the hill

Never to look back on my foot prints

On a path reashed this far. You put me in splints,

Standing unshaken for that you love me still.

Sonnet II

He that reads my absolute yes

Neglects not to look on many a silent no.

I that have his eternal bless

Dismiss not but admit the subtle woe.

The two on a tandem fall never on one another

But in union, only to sept up and go a little further.

We look not back at what remains behind,
Nor hinder our way with that which baits our mind.

He with a determination, that is of gentility

And of devotion, finds me here inspired.

I with affention of immutability

And of cultivation, return his heart so desired.

Yes, we join our humble anticipation.

Of tomorrow ever so large in this true relation.

Moments

It's moments like

seating myself next to you reading.

Saying hello like it's nothing.

Feeling the air between us shifting.

Saying one thing but thinking another.

Telling myself yet another something.

Taking a mental note of your tacky shoes.

Hearing you reply in a throaty voice from a flu.

Thinking that it's sexy.

Exhaling hope, inhaling freedom.

Small-talking and big-time flirting.

More moments like these

and I am had.

Here I Go

Here I go,
thinking of you.
And dreaming of us.

And I fail
standing still.
Seeing with eyes.

Here I run
to the distance.
To the hope of the unseen.

Here I see
love in my heart growing.
And myself falling.

Right here I stay,
in your arms, in your thoughts.
In your dreams, in your heart.

What It'd Be Like

Keep looking down on your book.
Stay that way and don't catch my eyes.
Don't turn your face this way,
so I can imagine
what it'd be like to be with you.

Stay there and sip your coffee.
If you need to look this way,
do it slowly so I can look away.
And I can imagine
what it'd be like to be with you.

Sing me your words, I will learn.
And I will play them in my head
Over and over all night long
as I imagine
what it'd be like to be with you.

I can be a pain sometimes
but please chance it, I'll be good for you.
Cut me a slice of hope
and let me taste
what it'd be like to be with you.

At an Apartment for One

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness in
crawling back into bed
where the warmth you left behind
still remains and cradles you.

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness in
stepping into the room
where the light the sun filled the place
still lingers its smell in the air.

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness in
hearing the kettle start to whistle
and weighing the hot water to know
there's enough for another cup later.

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness in
hearing your thoughts in silence
and finding your voice yet again.
The world was harsh out there today.

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness in
knowing what you feel.
And there is happiness in
being alone, away from the rest.

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness at
the thought of going out to the world,
mingling in the crowd of people,
walking past strangers on a street.

At an apartment for one,

there is happiness in
turning the light on in the dark.
There is happiness in
the loneliness that your heart bears.

There is loneliness when there is happiness,
the happiness in the room of your heart.

At an apartment for one,

there always is a room for more.

There always is happiness.

Hymn to Love

For the beauty of moments
in the cradle of your arms

For the comfort of your warmth
in a breeze from the north

For the purity of your kindness
wrapped up in thousand yeses

Love of all, to thee I raise
Tis' my hymn of grateful praise

My Longing

The longing.
My longing.
For a little note.
A little note in the end.
In the end of the day.
The day that I lived.
I lived thinking.
Thinking.
Thinking and hoping.
Like a child.
A child ignorant of harm.
Harm from reasons.
Reasons for kindness.
Kindness and caring.
Caring without taking.
Without taking.
But asking.
Asking.
Asking for more.
More of this.
This longing.
For a little note.
For just a little note.

Stream, Stream

Stream, Oh stream
of a brook, wherein their fins glitter
in streaks of light under water,
will you never rest to twitter.
I look into you on a humdrum shore.

Faces around every bend
await your purl, so down you go.
Jubilant are you to the end
and your odyssey be ever so.

Float me, stream, to where I belong,
like the pebbles rolling light and free,
and the leaves drifting along.
Float me down gently to the sea.

My Kind of Spirituality

I want to know the answers to which
my godly friends cannot answer.

I want to see the reason why
I must have a reason why not.

I want to understand the greatness
of our creation called the creator. Amen.

At my very last moment, I want never to utter
"Damn it!" It just seems peaceful.

Rain - A Short Story

After the movie, we walked out of the theater and toward the station. I was surprised to meet the hazy sky that must have developed in the last two hours and a half while we were inside. It had been painfully bright out when we went in. "I can't believe the ending," I said, kicking off a pebble on the street aimlessly, with my eyes on my feet aimlessly too. Both my hands in pockets. A toneless "Yea..." was the reply, barely voicing any opinion of the speaker.

We then walked in silence for what seemed like 10 minutes or so, and then I felt a little tickle on back of my nape. I realized it was a drop of rain as I felt where it landed with my left hand, and at about the same time, "Oh no," was uttered beside me. She, too, was now aware of the rain. The annoyance that was in her tone made me feel blamed and responsible. Soon it started pouring.

We had quickened our pace. Neither of us had an umbrella. We shouldn't have had to, anyway. The forecast reported nothing of the cloudburst that afternoon. If anything, the whole county was supposed to rely on the dryness that would last till the end of the week. Stupid summer weather, I thought. And what a stupid liar! Stupid weatherman in his stupid suit. Now it was raining cats and dogs. We started running.

We ran in silence, except the rain was making a thunderous opus on the ground and on cars driving past. I don't know about her, but I wasn't running to anything. The station was a little too far from us if running to avoid getting wet was our purpose. And there was nothing in our sight a place that seemed to lend us a roof. So we ran, because it seemed like the only sensible thing to do at the moment.

After a block or so, she was falling behind. She had a purse that hung heavily on her shoulder, and it jumped around her waist as she ran. I wondered what she could have had in there. She also had sandals on that made her calves skinnier than I had seen. They didn't seem to be making her running in rain any easier either. I wanted to slow down for her. Or even better, not run at all. We were soaking wet as it was. running or slowing down didn't seem to make much of a difference anymore.

"ARE YOU OK?" I shouted. trying to be heard over the rain pouring. "WHAT?" sh shouted back. "DO YOU WANT TO WALK?" I shouted again, not doing a great job in making myself sound any clearer than the first time. "I CANT HEAR YOU!"

She didn't seem interested in what I had to say. So I shut my mouth and kept running. She had probably given up on making me say anything, really. Probably thinking what an asshole I was for choosing that horrible movie. For seating ourselves in front of the loudest kids God has ever put on earth. For managing to forget the napkins from the popcorn kiosk. For leaving my seat twice for bathroom and leaving her in the dark in, again, that horrible movie. Thinking what a weirdo I was for going silent and awkward and squeamish the moment I picked her up today. Thinking what a screw-up for choosing a day that would rain. And I wanted to tell her, "I checked the forecast! Three times! The weather man said nothing about the rain, I swear!"

But I didn't. Instead, in the middle of this Murphy's Law of a date, I felt like laughing. I don't know why. Maybe it was the fact that she couldn't hear me over the rain. Maybe it was her purse dancing around her wist like it was going to fly off her. Maybe it was the movie that didn't register me at all. Maybe it was my trembling hand that wanted to grab hers the entire two hours. Maybe it was that I wanted to kiss her the whole time. Maybe it was my sudden awareness of my tongue tasting like coke and salty popcorn when I actually sat up to go for it. Maybe it was the stupid soundtrack that kept the perfect moments pass. Maybe it was that all I wanted to do was kiss her, and I couldn't for the life of me.

So I laughed, still running. Not out loud, but if I did, the rain would have muted me anyway. I'm going to kiss her, I thought. She must be pretty ticked off now. Heck, she is probably furious. Whatever is in her purse is probably soaking wet and useless by now, and she probably hates me because I made her run in rain in those pretty sandals. Maybe she might even slap me after I let go of her lips. But when we reach the station and finally make a stop under the roof, I'm going to kiss her before we even catch our breath. And for the moment, running in rain felt like the best thing in the whole world to be doing.

Under His Jacket

You are still hungry to death.
But you don't know what you want to eat.

Yeah.
That's the feeling.

You are always telling yourself
the two shadows will become one someday.

Yeah.
That's the hoping.

You are scared like no tomorrow.
But more than that, you are just big fat hurting.

Yeah.
That's the fearing.

You are so aware of it all,
the truth, the fact and the differences between them.

Yeah.
That's the knowing.

You cry very quietly,
under his jacket hung, with your face all crumpled.

Yeah.
That's the calling.

Nice Enough

Go.

If acting to care,

to be nice enough,

starts to seem

too much work.

Go your way.

Take your brutal honesty.

Or shut up and

be nice enough.

Let not others

hear your sighs.

Go your way.

Take your blinded sympathy.

Go.

Coup d'oeil

Your glance.
I felt.

Your gaze.
I knew.

Your glimpse.
I caught.

Your peek.
I peeked.

Your eyes.
I met.

Your cheek.
My nape.

Your lips.
My lips.

Another Morning

A pain is the reality.
Not a verity.
A remain is an act.
Not a fact.

Has another night gone again in hasty
bringing me to a day in vanity?

My Life with One Too Little of You

The man told me today at the auto shop
that I need a new compressor installed.
Oh that's just perfect, I told myself,
now is the time my car is also getting old.

I lost my wallet a month ago or so
and my computer got infected too.
I had my twenty-sixth birthday last week
and whom do I blame this to?

Things in my life are turning cold on me.
With your belongings gone from my flat
my belongings are not coping with me right.
I turn for comfort now only to my cat.

I burn off calories on puking up
and I sleep to the sound of my own thoughts
instead of your snores and breathing,
but at least I think no more of how we fought.

Was agreement so necessary?
Were differences so disturbing?
We had a harmony of our own kind.
For what more were we starving?

My life is alright.
I wake up alright.
But alright is awful without you.
My life is with one too little of you.

Riding By the Shore

While I go on pedaling,
riding by the shore,

The sun sets behind the horizon afar on my back.
My thin, long, scarlet shadow runs beside me.

I will just go on pedaling,
riding by the shore.

A breeze from mountains flies a feather in spiral.
The feather lands on water to be cradled in its ripples.

I must keep on pedaling,
riding by the shore.

The lips feel too cold from the salty air to purse.
The tongue's stuck behind the teeth in the mouth that's awry.

I might let go pedaling,
riding by the shore.

Know that I am pedaling,
riding by the shore.

Catch me stop pedaling
off the bike on the bank.

It

To want a thing or two
and to know what I want.
Exactly the way I want.

To come upon someone
to flip me upside down.
Completely upside down.

To believe in it
and to want to get there.
Might as well get there.

To know that I didn't come
to this world for nothing,
but for fucking everything.

To feel that a freedom
within myself alone may be just as bad
as a freedom that never lasts,

because it might conquer all.

It just might, after all.