intagliare

behind my eyes
they are all there
between my dreams
they weave their redolence
soft sighs and silken breaths
saccharine lips and fingertips...

i can not offer what i do not have
nor can i assume i belong anywhere else
when i am not even sure if i really belong where i came from
everything is so strained and truncated
i can not hear the music in my pain
nor can i see the beauty in the city lights
on this side of the night there are no stars
nothing to look up to
nothing to dream about
i think i just made them up
and someday everything will fall
one of these days i'll make up my mind

it's over.
why ask me now?
it wasn't up to me then
it isn't up to you now.
don't i wish it was
like don't you?

new moon waxing

reels after endless reels of my memory. 
there you slither in and out.
i get febrile. below zero. 
gracefully. when it suits me.

still..
i am.
the organ grinder.
the ring master.
i still hold the whip.
i can help
summon your demons
effortlessly. please let me.

jabberwocky and me

when i turn to look back
i find a thousand corpses
of my dead self
like so many alices
a thousand lives lived
trailing behind me

should i insist upon hugging each one
so i can feel them crumble in my arms
probe them for evidence, signs of my self
resavor feelings long gone
and evaporated through time
search at the emptiness
the eyeless sockets of death?

must i call back the dead
and mourn over them
one by one?

i am here.
i am alive.
there is only me 
and now.

sand between  our toes
and the sun in my eyes
choice pebbles and sea shells
sand castles and little squeals
surf, sea and the boys
and this beautiful life
always always always
i'll choose love.

precaution perpetua

that is so sweet and thoughtful of you
to evangelize the whole neighborhood
with your one-dimentional theories about me
when my indecisions stump you
you turn to your dysfunctional self
can't you see the chains between you and me
i can't stand to be with you so long
but no matter how far i go
it will always tug at me
before my blood sings forgotten songs
i want to hear this particular one
the one you used to sing always
i could use some of those drama in it
maybe i was wrong to argue
that religion is just corrupted latin
and that you'll outgrow my company
and develop latent thoughts on soulmates
and the advantages of searching and finding
i am not here to sell myself to you
i am just here
and you know that
like you know about the chains
our multiplicity don't amaze me
as it does to you
and the way you blush everytime
i say i wanted to marry God
and my heliophobic tendencies and
to prune vineyards my whole life away
well.. that's how bad i want to be alone

because shit happens

repeat performance.
successive. in deja poops
ad infinitum.

one two three four five
now you quote a fish alive
i laugh. ripples spread.

it was a tuesday. and just like all unplanned things. i chanced upon it. a whim. a sudden subconscious suggestion. the hunger must've done it. i wanted pancakes. instinct, the primal hound in me, or that nourishment-deficit induced delirium took hold of me. and through the fog i was able to divine with uncanny clarity the exact spot where pancakes could be found. something preternatural propelled me there. that's what i had started to believe afterwards. but it wasn't the pancakes i had to make the propitious acquaintance with. it came in a simple unpretentious white nondescript cup. it smelled richly of promises. of a sensuous nature. i must've closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. i fondled the mug. i made love to my brew. HOT. and corrosive. thick piping hot undulations of peristaltic pleasure. i could gleefully turn on this memory on cold rainy nights, i could. :-P this must be how wild galloping horses of lust are bred. hahah! 
i held on to my sanity. i left the plate unlicked. i decently avoided eyes. i tipped modestly. otherwise i'd give myself away. i deliberately willed my limbs to saunter nonchalantly out of there. "the hills are alive" has been automatically cued to play the moment i crossed the borders of the establishment. and its a nikki minaj remix! waaaaaaahhh! these are the very thoughts the vatican would have me excommunicated. and the local priest could exhaustively pontificate on...admonishing me to crawl on bloody hands and knees towards the altar. fumbling on my mysteries and beads. to exorcize me of the calories i ingested. and there, the monstrance, stiff aloof and oblivious to my agonies, only looks on indifferently towards the entrance. perhaps straining to see whether the priority number machine is working. 
when you are under the influence, you get hallucinatory. you don't think. you kick a black cat out of the way when it crosses your path. i had palpitations all day long. i know i must come back for more. i must.

sing to me, O muse, how you grew strong because of your tortang talong..
of the sursurrations running along your isle of langerhans,
of the saccharine scarabs gnawing at your hypothalamus.
render unto me, the croutons, that which belong to caesar's salad.
welcome me to the batcave in your head right now, right now. (right now. right now. :-P)

blue moon

lunarically bangag.
radioactive ID in full throttle.
sing to me, O muse, of your BCT melancholia
of the stellar murmurings of your amygdala
of the cacophonous batrachomyomachian voices in your soup
and of your bruce-almightyish 2nd-rate-trying-hard-copy-paste parting of it
shall i falsetto my replies ?
perhaps i shall even beatbox it!
perhaps perhaps perrrrr--haps!

semper fidelis

faith is elastic. and sometimes it snaps. 
but love is absolute. so am i.