Monthly Archives: December 2010

72. on a carousel of heights

one more year nearly over but this time i won’t attribute it to anyone. no, not to you or X or Y. it wasn’t mine either for it took me on a ride, spinning me around on a carousel of heights. and i can’t see the lows, looking back into all that time through my rose-tinted glasses. i can’t.
lets leave them lurking in the shadows, where past has teeth and broken dreams, like glitter, pave the floor.
i’ll visit them again. i have before.

i’m supersticious.
and i believe.
i believe that one must welcome a year in with the colours of its chinese animal; that one must drink a glass of champagne as the clock stikes midnight; that the way one spends new year’s eve will be the way one spends the year.
my supersticions supersede any norm of rationality, but darling, you said so yourself, i’m the luckiest person you know.

lets believe.
believe that there’s some truth to supersticion after all and drink champagne tonight.
and it’ll be the night when i will set the sky alight, our paper lantern flying up above. i’ve found love.

i live thence

no one replies.
and in this deadly silence,
i sit alone,
my suitors lost in time.
the pain’s misplaced.
never mine.

      and i can fall all i want
cos nobody would hear the noise |

socially unacceptable.
murdering your life.
taking risks at your expense.
not knowing how to live, i live thence.

      and i can fall all i want
cos nobody would hear the noise |

i am that tree in the forest.
you want romance?
you never had a chance.

you’re coming back to me

you’re coming back to me,
smell of your shampoo in my eyes,
tearing,
searing,
inviting a stampede through memories
as my thoughts of you singe
the body i’m in

and i wanna be a shooter
shooting time
but i’m gonna
throw the world a dime

and wait.

71. thank you for the magic

when i was little i wanted to make magic, to pull the rabbit out of the hat and make things disappear before your very eyes. i got little magic kits for bithdays and watched magic shows on tv. i was an avid learner who learnt nothing at all, because now i know the real magic
this is it.
and though it comes rarely, its arrival like a flight of a flock of swallows migrating south where warmth is surer, lustier, this is it. grass is always greener on the other side. bar this one. i’m not moving.

before you fly away, there’s always a rush of events whose sole purpose is to please me into oblivion until you are gone and the empty space forms where you ought to be. only this monday we found our song as we kissed in the middle of it, shakira singing for the crowd in which we were engulfed. that was your birthday present to me: shakira concert the day before the winter soltice.
today, it was your birthday: a small affair of our closest friends and family ties. but morning was ours. so absolutely ours.

magic is the feeling of being utterly in love. it is when you can’t help wondering qué haré si no te vuelvo a ver. it is melting in another’s arms like snow on warm day. it is falling in love and not knowing how to stop. not even wanting to stop.

and every time you go away, i wonder what will i do if i never see you return.

thank you for the magic.

70. because i’m a dreamer

i’ve realised not long ago how shame has filled the crevices of my life. and yesterday i let it out on you, because in all this time you hadn’t realised.
you bought me presents that i liked, you told me things i longed to hear but deep inside me there was always fear of shame. and now you’re walking streets with me, early in the morning, carrying my cargo of paper and shame. just for today. this burden in not yours nor ever will it be.
and this song’s alive in me and you can hear it, but you will never feel it the way i do.

so hold my hand in yours, my dreams scattered on your palm because i’m a dreamer and dream too much. let this free soul forsake it’s body and fly into the open sky like a red kite soaring amongst the stars.

and i want to tell you you’re closer than you were tonight,
but today we’re further apart.

i’m sorry.

69. let the whole world ignite for me

i know the child in you. the one which craves the praise from the lips it longs to kiss. and yet the child cannot accept it, for the twinge of sarcasm ibmursed in the words.
and then you long for the acceptance of your mother, father, brother: their words of praise, like mine, cherished but disbelieved.
what of it? one must live for something.
you live for praise.
i live for love.

the english boy’s resurfaced. just like i predicted, him and the girl broke up. now, he is moving on. moving on me, maybe, but i reckon just moving on to the world. today, he approached me three times. and every time, i bat away his advances with a smile on my face. why should i contemplate burning for him if i am the candle of your life?

too many lives, too many stories and there will be no more parafin, no more wax, no more light. i am aware of that.
i lived through life before you. 

now i know it’s enough to burn for you so let S burn for me.
and let the whole world ignite for me. for this love, this kiss, as it opens its bud of sunshine every morning on your lips.

enough

yes: cut the tension with blue zircon,
or sparkling, glittering blue ice
and the rain may stop falling,
slowly dripping on us |

know: truth is no more than beauty,
one slow and amorous affair
of which artistes have softly spoken
with many tongues and their right hands |

still, love is here: a polished topaz
resembling one slowly falling sky,
created aimlessly – exception to the rule,
where rules and promises are one | 

and here am i: nor love nor truth nor beauty,
a sudden stop
in pauses of this life.
you see me now.
it that enough?