Modern Myth: Kebong

Kebong

He arrived, wrapped
His purpose minute
His appeal astute
His skin, clear yet foggy
Seeing through it
One can see the letters floating
A's, B's, C's and D's
Such singular organs
This being possesses
A supine, elongated body
Pliant and submissive
The wondrous mix of
Plastic skin and unknown gel
His blank stare
Pig-like, yet devoid of pig life
Bores deeper than the eyes
of passers-by
Such that Hamlet never saw
reflected in Yorick's smile.

Modern Myth: Heart/Forest

Heart/Forest 

To think, my heart is the forest 
It basks beneath the sunshine 
Yet only shafts of light enter its domain. 
It is as it is, the forest 
One enters uncertainty 
That once the surest foot 
Treads with trepidation. 
For to be lost in the forest 
Is most confusing, and dangerous; 
One does not stop, or ponder the forest 
He wanders the paths 
And sees the wildlife 
And stares at the streams 
And gazes at the trees. 
Is it the forest that makes the trees 
Or the trees that make the forest? 
No answer. The forest never answers 
It beats to its own drum 
And flows of its own. 
The forest does not want, does not give 
Freely, for freedom has its price 
And that price is another 
To make its own 
Wafting vines of union 
Binding their roots, two forests together. 

The Metropolis Series: Part II, Scene I

PART II
Scene I: Modern Life Regression

Alone
the beggar
sits
beside the street
And hears the
thump
of pedestrian feet
An upturned
eye held
always
in darkness,
A blank
stare
with open mouth
and voiceless,
She hears
the trampling
by the passers-by
That tread her palace
of garbage,
their sty.

The leaves,
dried and wilted
from autumn
mourn
With plastic bags
and cardboard packs,
her home
Devoid of
voice
her tambourine
will ring
Of silence
broken
now she starts
to sing
Sshh-sshh-sshh-sshh,
sshh,
sshh,
sshh-sshh-sshh-sshh.
The melody
sounds true
her thought and wish.

'Gainst division,
oppression,
depression
She is
not them,
their silent delusions
Jailed by the famous modern life blueprint
Perfect vision
blurred
by luxury's tint
No. ring true
to this life
and dead
to false dreams
Sing loudly
now
and by your song
redeem.

Sshh-sshh-sshh-sshh,
sshh,
sshh.
finger on the lips.
The quiet gesture
crackles like a
whip
And ear
retorts
by instinct
driven
Quiet
the drivel of
groaning heaven
The tambourine fades.
a plea escapes. dead
To "life",
the blueprint
by a beggar bled.

Love and Eternity: XXXII

XXXII
"Love is..."

A 3-o'-clock conversation
on hopes and dreams,
A house and kids.
Surprise gifts and
suprise appearances.
A goodbye peck on the cheek
or a wake-up kiss while one sleeps.
An afternoon movie maybe,
or the last full show?
Or just dinner. Sisig.
It's not caring about your hair,
he'll be bald by then anyway.
It's a trike ride, a train ride
a taxi ride, even a carnival ride.
It's looking back and laughing
at the arguments, the fights
the dates, the movies, all those nights
Working late, miles apart
side by side.
It's every big thing,
every small thing
every baby step you take
I take alongside you.
It's a million things.
It's you and me.

Love and Eternity: XXXI

XXXI
“Simple Poem”

I'm not so good with makeshift rhymes
Lyrical stuff and pickup lines
Or being there whenever you please
Visiting you can never be done with ease
Even calls or messages I forget
Yet dearest darling before you fret
Once I promised to love you true
Until I die I'll stay with you
Despite everything, I'm always here
Untoward incidents I have no fear
During nights when you'd cram it all
Every second I'd be at your beck and call
See, I love you so much
On lonely times I'd imagine your touch
My body lives on this memory fuel
Unblemished this love of me, a fool
Can't you see, my love, I'll never go?
Here I'll stay, loving you so.

Love and Eternity: XXX

XXX
“Missing february Morning”

Misty coldness of the mystic morning
Yielding the skin to a tingling touch of
Fog covered in velvet tendrils clinging
Onto February dawn's satin glove.

(And the satin glove did trace my hands
To intertwine like the shifting sands.)

Upon the grassy earth I lie askew
Resting weariness on these fresh leaf blades
Then feel the prickling drops of wet dew
Encase my body as dear morning fades.

(Fading slowly to reality
Bring me back banal disparity.)

Except to me, forever is this day
Night stopped, noon stoppered and evening begone
Daylight eternal creeps in brightest grey
Until my love returns in a new dawn

Dawn of return, new welcome to old passion
Enter my morning, memories ashen

Snippets: Uneven Love

Uneven Love 

I wept 
tears of dread 
and thus swept 
my heart slowly bled 

the crimson pattern: 
a trail, running 
an earthen urn 
of dead consumed, burning 

life, the meandering 
river cut short 
inflammed, winding 
back to port 

and bursts 
fragments of starlight 
the epiphany hurts 
descends darkest night 

then clear, see now 
my kindled passion 
and saw how 
it fizzled, fireless destruction.

Modern Myth: Green Fields

Green Fields 

As I walk 
The green fields 
Of dawn that glistens 
with dew drops, listen 
To the softest 
tread I make upon 
the now awake blade 
And breath the 
morning air 
full of sweet 
Revolution still. 

When I walk 
The green fields 
Of noon-time 
Feel the burning 
heat of highest 
Sun, uplifted 
the top-most pedestal 
arrayed in thousand 
blinding rays 
That dried 
the budding carpet 
Upon I bathed, I toiled 
though the light 
then led the way 
The landscape 
Picturesque 
was melted away. 

So now I walk 
The green fields 
Of night, where starlight 
glows dim 
To hopes, to grass 
that thirsts 
Unquenched 
To pyrite light 
as gleamed 
Those golden apples 
To stale old breath 
that tinged 
With cremated dreams 
too soon 
breath fades, then silence.

Modern Myth: Fireworks 2007

Fireworks 2007

The clock struck twelve
And fireworks spiraled in
The midnight firmament
Of newly born stars
Sparking, sparkling
Spring blossoms of
Flowers springing in
The New Year sky
And escalates
Loudest cacophony
There couples now
Bright lights in the night
Bangs of firework cracks
Then nothing
Stars fading away
Silence.