Caught up with the past

Woke up in the middle of the night
Set my eyes against the blinding light
Yesterday, it was attention that I was yearning
Now, I’m just a key that needs a little turning

I close my eyes, to get no sleep
There are no longer any secrets that I can keep
I promised myself I wouldn’t weep
Another promise I can’t keep

It was just yesterday that I accidentally lost my way
Today, I deliberately led myself astray
How do I remember how to smile?
Tonight, nothing seems worthwhile

It seems no one can help me now
I’m in too deep, no way out
I let words drive me to evil, it drives me insane
It’s a lot easier than dealing with the pain

Tonight everything feels dead and dry;
Her and me, day and night, earth and sky

Dear Mama

To my lola,

Thank you for reminding me that I can never be too old to learn things about life.

“We are never alone. Our mothers will always be with us, whether we’re in a mansion or a jail house. Our mothers will always be with us.”

Setting: At a cemetery in a hot afternoon

Noah steps to the podium dressed in a black suit all wrinkled and wet. He reeks of beer and Marlboro reds. Some of the visitors seem appalled by his presence. Yet he doesn’t care. He rarely did.

He takes off his sun glasses to reveal his teary eyes coupled with grey eye bags. He frisks his suit pockets to search for his eulogy. To his dismay, it got lost in the havoc of the past 48 hours, preceded by the havoc of the past 31 years. He stumbles, in a way only a drunk man can, and then he lays his head down for a while. He looks at his brother among a sea of people; his brother gives him a slow nod. At once Noah began to speak softly and slowly…

“When my mother was 21, she was nursing two children and pursuing a degree in English literature at a renowned university. Upon hearing this from my grandfather, I never thought I’d ever meet her. Nobody else would have taken her place. The father was a drunk, who beat my brothers up for no reason. Sometimes he’d come home and hit his eldest for not greeting him at the doorstep.

My mother never knew about this until it was too late. Wounds which were deeper than scars were already embedded among us siblings. The eldest became addicted to drugs, so as the second. And I stand before you as an alcoholic.

My brothers have led great lives, lives of character and nobility. And most of their shortcomings were bought about by a childhood that no one on this earth deserved.

My mother loved us unconditionally. During the peek of my moronic youth, I would come home drunk. I’d start cursing her for making our father leave us for another family. She would take it with such grace. She’d even fix me a hot plate and tell me to eat and go to sleep, ‘we’ll talk about this in the morning.’ But she never bought it up. She was the epitome of patience.

I was resentful. I always blamed her for all my troubles; it was the same for my elder brothers. But we never stopped to consider that she’d work two jobs at a time just to feed us and put us in school.

She was always too responsible to engage in pointless banter. She was the only source of stability in my life. I understand now, why at times she seemed so cold and calculated. Unfortunately, raising three boys alone does not give one the luxury to be frail. She stood her ground and raised us, as best as she could.

I guess losing someone so responsible is hard. But following that line of thought would be selfish. She now sees the world in the most beautiful perspective possible. And that gives me a sigh of relief and an air of comfort.

I love you mother. I know often times we clash with one another. But I want you to know – no – I need you to understand, that when whenever we fought I was simply applying the lesson you have taught me best: to stand my ground when I think I’m right. To fight for what I believe is right. Thank you for everything.

P.S.
Yes, I wasn’t always right… Good thing you were there to correct me.”

The Secret to Life

My father told me, “Add garlic.” I was about to cook fried rice and was in the process of melting the butter. He said everything nice starts with garlic and butter.” It’s a simple premise but it works. I wondered if life could be that simple.

Finding your “garlic and butter” in life proves to be a much harder task. I have spent twenty years searching for it, and even today it manages to evade me. There are no signs of it arriving soon. As much as I desire to please my friends and family, I refuse to conform to what society dictates me to do: To study hard, to be rich or financially stable or to be ‘successful.’ What is success anyways? To me, it is nothing but what separates a man’s sorrow from his joy. I firmly believe that a man’s measure of success depends on him and him alone.

Nowadays, when in doubt, I reach for my right pocket and pull out my optimism. But I never forget what’s on my left pocket: reality. Hold on to both and everything else will make sense. Live for something, a deeper purpose than your new cell phone, your ‘reputation’ or your fancy girlfriend, and then you’ll have everything.

I haven’t found my “garlic and butter.” But I’m not rushing to do so. I take uncertainty as an adventure and a smile as my boarding pass.

Yes. I have changed…

Something funny...

To Sarah,
For removing my childish ignorance.
For allowing me to see things that, prior to knowing you, I did not see.
A thousand thank you’s.

A 13-year old girl wrote this poem. I just revised most parts of it, but I made sure the general theme was still intact. It was originally titled “Great Obsession.”

The very thought of you,
makes a tingle in my tummy.
I’ve got this big crush on you,
cause you make life so bubbly.

When you wear that red dress,
I just can’t resist,
the obsession is stressed
and the love appetite persists.

You make my day,
in every single way.
Without you I’m lonely.
Babe, you’re my one and only.

You quench this thirst.
You are both my last and first.

So now I’ll force you to me.
As my lips slowly curve to make a smile.
Nothing else can compare to COKE for me,
I love her with such style.

The tragedy of a hopeless romantic

For the past six months I have gained and lost everything I ever hoped to have. I worked hard to get opportunities, yet I neglected them when they were finally within reach.

I feel stretched. I feel tired. I feel dead. But I am still here, still breathing.

Rising, rising, rising, gone…

To her who listens,

What makes you think that I no longer love you?

My love for you is the guiding force of my life. I cannot simply give it up or else I would be lost.

I choose to ignore and rise above the pain of the past. I choose to be better than the mistakes I have made. I choose the possibility of Us, I choose the possibility of making something beautiful.

The rest of the world gives me all the reasons not to believe in Us. But that’s when I believe in Us the most. You give me a reason to believe, you are my reason. I believe in you, to believe in myself. To believe in Us.

The fool in me,
Dabs

Every Saga has a beginning. Every Journey has a first step.

Where?

Two paths fork from one road.

One I dare not take and one I dare not shun.
The one I dare not shun,
the path I longed to take.
Was always shut by a wooden gate.
Through the punctures of the wooden gate,
I could see beyond the road I longed to take.
The stars align and the moon smiles, looking down below.
At once I thought, “this is where I should go.”

I laid in long wait,
hoping for the opening of the gate.
The wooden gate was closed for so long,
when my curiosity led me to survey the path I dare not take.
I was scared and I was nervous.
When I peeked, to my surprise.
I saw a place that was alien to my eyes.
As the sun rose and the clouds greeted it with a kiss.
Earthly good ended against heaven’s bliss.

When I preceded to walk the open path.
I struggled in making my first steps,
at times I even lost my breath.
I looked back to see how far I’ve gone,
when my attention shifted back to the wooden gate.
It was then and there that a wind blew thru.
Splitting the gate in two.
As I looked at my tracks.
I had already gone too far to come back.
I had already grown to love this road,
it has become my sweet abode.

I looked far beside me,
I glanced twice only to see.
That the path I did not take
was always parallel to me.
I turned once right and twice left,
and I glanced once again to see,
That the other path will always be beside me.
Then it came in an epiphany,
only destiny knows the future of that other road and me.