Friday, November 28, 2008

Amosphere 13 - Misty

Mood: Depressed
Sound Waves: News From The Front by Bad Religion

Judged only by her DNA samples and false prayers
All they really see is the surface of her crimes
She can bloom only in the frozen rays of the sun
Smiling only when the ice needs to break.
Nobody knows if she is steadily
Drowning in the rain's embrace
Or wishing the minature figurine
Of a past she would want to forget but
Couldn't from the averting eyes.
The rain lets off
and she's the only one overlooking the happy ongoers of Earth
An angel?

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Atmosphere 12 - Caffeine

Mood: Drained
Sound Waves: LIFE by YUI

Oil Smell (the small restaurant)

First thing I notice: the chairs and tables.
What I can yank back from yesterday
Is that the table top's pattern didn't
Look the same. (Or... maybe it was
Just the November chill getting into my nerves.)
I smell the sizzling oil of
Bubbling fast food, served warm
On sensational smelling salted
Ceramics. I can hear the crisp
Crunch of earth-tiled flooring and
Quick transactions to visitors
Old and new, all the same, all diverse.
The eyes try to drink the familiar 
Images in, but can't bring up any
Fonder memories, since the last time
They visited.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Atmosphere 11 - Fortuna

Mood: Gloomy
Sound Waves: Boats and Birds by Gregory and the Hawk

Lucky (A series)

Scrub out all the grime on top of
The dusty, fleshy cabinet.
The reddened sky, knife etched graffiti
Will be rid tonight.

So she says that she'll meet
Him first, not steadily recognizing
The stinging slap of the other's
Poison deep covetousness.

The fortunate bastard; Thinks that 
Whatever comes to mind, should
Be chiseled into his planned epitaph.
And there goes turned faces and beliefs.

What if they broke up? What if
There was already a gaping hole
In the presumed elastic fabric?
At least someone's listening.

Why me, you ask?
Instead, do tell:
Why you? It is not
Any different.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Atmosphere Air 10 - Snapshots

Mood: Lonely/Productive
Sound Waves: Always With Me in the Spirited Away Soundtrack

Series of Short Poems
The Hitman
He is a tall dark stranger, lulling whoever
He sees with his trance-like gaze
He has skin glistening with rave music
And alcohol-poisoned streaks
He has a voice that burns inside my veins--
The one that denies he's already flirted
With the social butterflies, but hasn't
Retrieved all of the pollen from a certain
Wallflower in the sidelines.
I could hear it among the beats of
Wailing voices
Wanting something out from this night
Of limited seduction.
He has caught me, where he wants me
To be.
He's lit up some interior stove I
Never knew I had installed there.
Amid the shouts of unwanted want,
Much needed desire
Its selfish but all five senses are
This man has taken contrl of what I
Still have left of me.
The thrill-filled part of it all--
I don't want to break this
Given, blessed chance
"One look could kill. My pain, your thrill"
The Bridesmaid and Admirer
Why am I always a bridesmaid,
Never the blushing bride?
Ding! Dong! Wedding bells
Always ring for other gals
But one fine day--
Please let it be soon--
I shall wake up in the morning
On my own honeymoon.
You're a beauty, saved up for the better
That bride may look happy, but you will too.
Bing! Bong! Wedding bells
May ring for other gals
But you'll look forward to it
You're not a girl who'd quit
You'll wake up every morning
In your own special honeymoon.
This isn't a new, heavy-weighted feeling
That is invisible to the eye but
Painstakenly there in the blue
Pale shadows hang out eerily
Over shuddering shoulders, ripping
Away with streams carved out from
False claims.
No signs have informed strangers
That there is something incresingly wrong
Underneath that hollow-eyed smile
The screams echo and bounc playfully
Making their circumference around the
Victims and victimizers
"You've lost the fight"
"You're useless"
"Nothing to gain"
Always written in verbal form, its
Always, always, the victimizer's fault
You want to be helped?
Why aren't you helping me?'re different
And thus, tis why burning bridges
Fails to annihilate the feelings
Still holding the gun towards
Your frightened mind.
When will I be forgiven for
Whatever I've done?
Will these tears, even spoken out of
The defence stand, say what
I cannot anymore?
Hillside (an 'epilogue' to Trust)
I shouldn't presume anymore
Otherwise I'll constantly spin about
In my lonesome teacup for one
Ancd watch in misery the people
I know who care but
Obviously want to be with
Better, more imaginative people.
This is selfish desires to
Be popular,
Not some childish want of
Being part of the happy
Fruits basket of high school.
Always with me, only my heart.
I say goodbye to whatever childhood I
Would've been glad to live in.
But instead, I dream
This unreachable cloud of tear-soaked

Atmosphere 10 - Crash Dive

Mood: Agitated/Restless
Sound Waves: Heavenly Star by Genki Rockets

Decision Sledgehammer (rain proof)

Spin the cog on the color wheel
See what you'll get someday
My plans don't include luxuries of treason
You know what I'm talking about: you were there.

Yellow wave length, what a happy time.
Thinking that such ideas we think are steeless
Can everlast the test of time
But ain't it so cruel, we're so cruel and innocent.

Switch to green light, lets go!
We're happy people, wondering when the hell are we gonna grow up.
From the skin of undergraduate knowledge,
To the sky, we can take the world.

Orange prisma lights, shy away from
Feelings of wanting some of that numbing, warming feeling.
We're only human after all.
Its only right to have felt like that.

Blast the blue away, blast the sheets of jargonized talk
Cannon fire sounds like a merry jamboree of twisted people.
Maybe for a little while, we can rip away
From the dark beings of our minds.

Dripping away, red slips from the fray
The numbers greaten, the emotions unfurl their fists,
Could it be just that a hug meant more
Than just contact?

Where did the time go? says pastel indigo
And suddenly the circle turns into that of a wheel not functional
Seems darker than the fireworks we created
So very long time ago.

And purple shadows speak.
We're here now, but just not HERE.
Where do we go now, now that Fate burnt the damn map?
Only our hearts can tell.

Lest not meet again.
I cannot say why
It seemed better with just the memories we left behind.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

Atmosphere 9 - Blindfold

Mood: Accomplished
Sound Waves: Final by Dir en Grey


What can you say, to describe
Such a stigma?
Its a curse, its a blessing
Call it what you will--you gain and lose
You see through invisible walls
Run into cemented illusions
Its more than just the exaggerated handicap
Its more of a lifestyle
You gain some piece of Shangri-La
With its peace and tranquility
But there is also, obtained
The feeling that you're screened out from what
You really want to visualize.
Instead, its a bright eclispe you wish to avoid.
You have an untapped wisdom to yield to
But have lost the will to touch walls
With only your hesitant fingertips
And only with your lost voice to lead the way.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Atmosphere 8 - Moon Phases

Mood: Comtemplative
Sound Waves: "Ichirin no Hana -HUGE HOLLOW MIX- High and Mighty Color

On the concept of love and phases

It is a crisp, summer afternoon. All things are beginning. Little things like these shouldn't bother her.

It blooms like a flower, so delicate, so new. Such concepts are so intricate, they must be handled with a fragile conscience in mind. Simple rules are made diverse; its like turning a cup of water into a vast ocean.

She can't handle such responsibilities. She is reassured that she can. And she tries.

It is a crisp, autumn day. All things are weakening. these issues are more than her expected phone call.

The leaves change colors, along with the seasons. Personalities overflow, yet they feel the same like a childhood memrory. its letting the choices that bind, break into a thousaund pieces. The chily air carries these emotions to greater, unimaginable heights.

She feels like she is on top of world's mountain. She knows she can never be blown off it. And she tries.

It is a crisp, winter evening. All things fall dead. Her world stops like a running faucet's valve, being shut off, cut off.

It settles in, a dark nimbus cloud, pouring its flurry to cover the scars, the fresh wounds. The silent Earth wants to be lulled into an eternal sleep, into an innocent silence. It wants to forget what childish desires and mistakes it created.

She needs this sleep. she has to wake up suddenly from the past, from the grave. And she tries.

It is a crisp, spring morning. Everything that was is renewed. A reborn spring of feelings sprouts up from her, waiting for these emotions to be discovered.

The flower may have wilted, died, but there is always dropped seeds of faith and hope, surviving and flourishing. Even if there are scars that look impossible to heal, it is by the strong, fiery embrace of time and the gentle candle of preserverance that helps immensely.

She believes she can try again.
She wants to try again.

And she does.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Atmosphere 7 - Heart Strings

Mood: Lonely
Sound Waves: HIKARI - Eliza

A Pair of Doves

The universal question: What is there for us without love?

Love is something more than just an emotion, a feeling, something so ancient and traditional that its often seen now as materialistic.

Love... is taken for granted countless times in history. Even now, its considered some dirty device that uses people and manipulates their living.

Would jealousy and envy play a part in Love's puzzling game?

In a way, those negative feelings plague what's important.

I believe Love sometimes isn't such a fairy tale as one might try to categorize as.

Love may stand the test of time, but there is enough woe in this world for me to see it as some excuse to be happy.

Is it just me?

Is it just the simple fact that I'm only standing and letting everyone else who I know, pass me by happily?

Are they just lucky?

Am I being too impatient?

Love.... is a cruel test for anyone to take.

It might withstand, but only for a littlewhile.

Maybe for the fact that I haven't even felt the surge of Love's exhilarating race for happiness...

.... that I feel all the less left out from it all.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Atmosphere 6 - A Dream (One)

Mood: Apprehensive
Sound Waves: Train Ride - Spirited Away Soundtrack


You find yourself in a flat surface. No.

Its actually a metal table. 

Your arms and legs are nowhere to be found. 

All you can really feel is your head, and... whatever else was attached to it. 

Your heart, even. 

It would be beating so furiously in where your body used to be.

Your eyes dart frantically, searching for an answer as to why you arrived here in the first place 

... when you see a teal-colored clad figure, its back turned at you. 

You realize you can only murmur your words in some alien slur you're not familiar with.

The figure turns around swiftly, now holding a wooden stick dripping with hot wax.

What's going on?! you scream helplessly in your mind.

The wax nears the bridge between your eyes.

You scrunch your eyes shut to shield yourself from the pain ready to commence towards you.

And then your eyes open without your brain's command.

You see a golden field.

You now feel your body and your arms, legs, intact. 

Your hand is clutching onto something. 

Something clammy.

Its... a hand. A warm hand that feel so familiar in your grasp.

 Your head's motor mechanisms return and you look up.

To see your beloved.

What the hell's going on here, you demand towards your beloved.

Your beloved whispers its fine now. Your safe with me.

Somehow, those words alone calm your soul, and your smile returns to your face.

The same smile that fell in love with this certain person.

Suddenly, both of you are walking through the golden fields of wheat and endless sky.

Your happiness feels just like the sky.

But then, you reach a tunnel. As you peer through the entrance, you feel an extreme cold reach you. 

It feels all too familiar.

Your hold with your beloved breaks. You turn and

Your beloved's not there.

You turn back towards the tunnel and your beloved is standing in front of the entrance.

"I'm sorry."

Exactly like the surging heat of hot wax, you don't want to accept this.

Your eyes close in frustration.

Let it all go away.

The lies, the deceit.

The love that you, yourself, pushed away stubbornly.

Let it all go.

You close your eyes without fail.


And I wake up.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Atmosphere 5 - Mo More Lullabies

Mood: VERY depressed
Sound Waves: On The Arrow by AFI

Going (An Euology)

Two days ago, it was my 18th birthday.

I believe there are all sorts of customs on one's 18th birthday but what I think is the most important event of all--is becoming an adult.
It's not a blessing, or an obligation. Its shedding into an new kind of skin but still being yourself. That is why I believe I should be right here to relief myself about this one person who helped me become who I am today.

From the beginning of my childhood, I was taught through actions and kind words that in order to obtain happiness, you create your own happiness. Not just some artificial joy or materialistic illusion that might comfort for only a little while. It is a happiness simple enough to make a person content for a lifetime.

My beloved grandfather, my Lolo Tettet, has taught me this and so much more.

The one year when I found out that he wasn't my true Lolo, it didn't exactly come as a shock. Already I knew that even if he wasn't my blood, this one man let me in nevertheless. He let me gently hold his hand with my fearful one when I was growing up. Even up to this day, he led me through a shining future, one he'd be happy to see me in, whatever I planned to do.

He promised to protect me and let me bloom into the adult lady he always wrote about in his annual greeting cards to me.

He never forgot about me even after all these years. Sometimes I get pangs of regret, about realizing that I didn't contribute a lot of my kindness to my Lolo in return. I feel that I couldn't forgive myself. Even now. But whatever feelings of regret that I have, I then turn to these thoughts:

As long as I can remember, my Lolo taught me the smallest things and then quickly let them grow. He showed me how to approach life with open arms. To laugh wholeheartedly at my fears. And to always reach my goals, no matter how hard the challenge may be. He never got angry--he was a peaceful boat amongst the rocky waves of Life's ocean.

My Lolo was a man that always had a bright smile lit on his face. Whenever I saw him, whenever he or I visited, there it was, present on his lips, a joyful smile so free, wise, strong-willed.
That smile will always be imprinted in my memory, never to be forgotten.

He wished for me to touch the limitless sky, as if forever was just the beginning of something even better. Eternally, his sweet memory will always linger and flourish in my childish heart.

I may be an adult now--but forever I will always be Lolo Tettet's young, spirited granddaughter.


Thank you, Lolo. Thank you for letting me into your life. My dearly beloved Lolo, I love and till we meet again.