a poem

I thought of a poem

along the way home

but i didn't have anything
to write the words on.

So when I jumped off the jeep,
I ran along the streets
hurriedly towards home sweet home

When I got home, finally
I zoomed to my room quickly
Looking for a pen and paper
while I still remember
these words that I have strewn.

The moment I found the scribes
I started losing my vibes
One by one, each word fell
into the deep obscurity's well.
And so let this confession
be a well remembered lesson
saying you must always prepare,
always bring a pen and paper.

1:11 AM

As I peer outside my bedroom window,
I feel the evening's breath embracing my face.
The absence of crickets fills the breeze with
whispers; knells of the unheard cries of the land.
As I take a sip inside my coffee cup,
I feel the caffeine's breath embracing my face.
The absence of sugar fills my blood with
needles; knells of the unheard cries of my body.

For Irene

I can clearly see the evening heavens,
the countless stars that twinkle,
swimming in a stream of velvet,
and the bejeweled pendant of light
hanging proudly in the center.
One day I would gather them all for you,
so that when my hands will again touch yours,
we will be embraced by the warmest of lights.

sunday afternoon

my electric fan is an orchestra
and my room is an opera house
the midday sun is the lighting
and the warm breeze sets the mood
their performance leaves me unable
to speak in a lively tone
for i am amazed at the perfect blend
of sounds, lights, and touch
that can lull even the most caffeinated man
without ever doing so much

Hikab

I stare into a glass of water
and watch the ripples begin to fade.
It made me think of something better.
But I think I forgot, I'm afraid.
Because these thoughts dissolve into
an endless pit of whimsical goo,
I craft a wall of text which a few
of the ideas inside I threw.