affections
In My Heart Still
you make me want to write
about love, and
that,
alone,
makes you a
dangerous
thing
– Irally Cariaso
Everything about him was poetic. not in the sense that he wrote down beautiful words but in the sense that he was the beautiful words. the way he moved captivated me and held my attention like his life depended on my focus being completely on him or else he would slip out of existence. the way he spoke struck anger into my soul. the way he breathed filled me with a profound and explainable sadness and longing. he looked like hell but at the same time he looked like the closest thing to heaven I could have ever imagined. he was sloppy words scribbled onto a pale sheet of paper by hands shaking from a lack of sleep and too much caffeine at 2:14 am on a Tuesday. he was the most beautiful thing to have ever come into my life and having my heart shattered into a million pieces by him was devastating but it left me breathless. – Becca Collier
Maybe a prose but never a poem (2)
I seek inspiration either from mundane affairs
or as you say, from imagination to imagination….
Somehow the beauty of your words slips in
and the shifting scenes of our lives
begin to increase through the night
coursing past worlds that had never been aligned
i had wanted to put you behind me
but the arrow of your diction would fly straight to this heart
as if you knew me fully well
yes, your sentiments repose in genuine tenderness
as from a waterfall with all your wants and needs
pouring over an affection that grows in deeds
how could I end up feeling what’s inside your very soul?
Perhaps you, too, find rhythm upon a love so true.
It makes me hope for a someday
when you’ll come to release the essence of your words,
your mind, your grandness –-
surrendering to the bounds of a woman’s love.
***
-geena 2015
One Heart, One Love (not a prose, never a poem)
I know whereof I speak
in moments when my mind would seek
the spirits of your prose;
In this beautiful hour
when a rose blooms under the raw dew and morning light
when a butterfly is set free to fly with the wind
A sweet reflection whispers of your presence
entailing me to come to you
That I may hold your hand and simply be near you…
No need to unravel what’s not been spoken
For here in my thoughts, in my arms you will lay.
We’ll revel in the paradise of words
built by the love you have had for this world,
And whether you stay or sail away
I am held by the truth
That my heart is undeniably yours.
-marj 2014
In Charm, Somber, and Love
There is something to know at a given moment
when in slow degrees
her pensive ways
would let her slide by her dreams…
The dreams
which hide behind the walls of her mind,
how they yield supreme delight
after all the uncertainty and disorders love could bring.
She has taken her vows
to claim back the recollections
she has pledged to defend and cherish,
as if it could somehow bring back
the innocence that once belonged to her…
What she would give up
to ascend a wondrous, grassy hill
where an ardent breeze could touch her face,
beholding a view that would wake up her senses,
which might bring tempest or calm
or whatever drama the sky has held for the day.
She would appeal for a higher strength
to soothe the ache of her wounded heart
to seek an answer to the question
about a wrong kind of loss
and a destiny fostering the rudest of truths.
You see her now
As she genuflects in peace
with the images of yesterdays
that speaks of bonds, sweetness, and friendship
recalling past intensities that justified her deeds.
She imagines the sunshine in his smile
the way she relishes the dividends of his affection
adorning her with a love – that knows no bounds.
The secrets in their souls
their shared longings and hopes
they consumed with an emotion
under a glow of a subdued light
the shelter of the night had sworn to keep…
The heavens may hold no promise
for an apathy she ought to banish
of events digging into her sensibilities
to memories she just might lose forever.
That she is being renewed somehow
by such moments and sentiments,
renders the birth of another truth
she could only uncover in time.
*****
My Version of Brother Sun, Sister Moon
I want so much to believe my sense of humour has been elevated a notch or two by my long-time association with the official comedian of our family; my brother – who is a couple of years younger than me. However, there’s a bigger probability I am deluding myself. You see, he’s got this I’ll-make-you-laugh-until-you-pee-in-your-underwear brand of wit. It’s a talent I could kill for. Glib and gregarious, my brother can easily become the darling of any party. People enjoy having him around. A natural comic that he is, he can deliver a barrage of punch lines, sometimes with an accompanying pantomime that can turn a mundane matter into something hysterical. All I have to do is giggle endlessly. Or laugh out real hard until my jaw literally hurts, or I start getting tears in my eyes.
Most men are humorous, quite true. That is the principal reason I like hanging around with them. They almost always make me laugh and I get happier in the aftermath. Not to mention, they are lighter to deal with; in contrast to the heaviness I feel due to pettiness I sometimes encounter in my dealings with women. I have met several men who could be way out zany. Still, the number one funny guy on my list turns out to be this dear brother of mine – who’s got the engaging ability to come up swiftly with hilarious similes and crazy analogies about anything or anyone.
He’d insist, every so often, that our sister’s Chinese-looking young son is secretly the last Emperor of China. He’d lovingly remind us to be careful everywhere, and be even more and more extra careful; or else, we might fall into the swimming pfool (yeah it rhymes. Still, it’s plain silly, right? :-)). He will animatedly narrate to anyone who’s willing to listen, how he witnessed our mother jumped down a mere two steps from the top of an 18-flight stairs right after she convinced herself she’d seen a ghost in her bedroom. He tends to exaggerate, I’m sure, but that’s how he invariably becomes wackier.
There was this phase, during our juvenile era, when he got crazy over pigeons and doves. Yes, you got that right – pigeons plus doves. I honestly couldn’t tell which is which. They are lovely, delightful birds all the same. Unlike girls, most adolescent boys don’t go gaga over the opposite gender yet at that age. They get busy with other more – I suppose – worthwhile (?) concerns. Even if we’re talking about, you know, pigeons. Or doves. All breeds of them – of sundry colours – I could have already laid eyes on in my teen-age years – thanks to my dear brother who collected and nurtured them aggregately in average-sized bird houses he built on the roof of our house. If Tarzan had his famous shout while up on a tree, my brother had his crazy loud clap, while up on the roof, to attract the attention of his flying pets. I also remember how he and his pals would bike their way twice a week to the nearest province and, upon destination, release the pigeons or doves they were carrying – mainly for the thrill of betting which one would find their way back home first. Incredible. In the early evening, he’d take some time to count them all and make sure his “babies” were safe and sound. My brother, needless to say, smelled of (pungent) dove 24/7 in all those years.
I simply want to home in on the positive, wonderful recollections I still preserve regarding my brother as I look back on my life these days. Things have been different. In the decades that went by, squabbles and complexities got in the way; partisanship divided us all family members. We don’t see each other often anymore the way we used to. Yet I still cherish my memories of the little brother I once had…from a long time ago when we were still little children. The little brother who looked up to me as his big sister. The one who constantly played and ran with me, and followed me everywhere I went. My baby brother, with whom I shared a P2.00 tall glass of delicious pineapple juice from our favorite community store to drink – after every afternoon that we finished biking around the neighborhood. My partner in crime (according to my parents) to boot, in picking up and taking home baby kittens that had been mercilessly thrown or left on the streets. The same little brother who’d come to me, during our grade school days, crying like a baby after his classmates had bullied him – which would incite me to hunt for and bully his culpable classmates in return (They shouldn’t have messed with my brother, ok? :-)).
Never the bookish, soulful type, my brother shares little in common with me. He and I are actually worlds apart in character. I’d like to believe my brother’s personality gleams with incandescence like the sun…while mine glows softly like the moon. Yet we’ve always had fun whenever we get together. Because when we do; he kids around, cracks jokes and executes his innate device for comedy – to show off perhaps or to benefit everyone in need of a laugh. I, together with the other members of our family, chuckle hard and get highly entertained. Every time. That has basically been the pleasurable equation of our blood alliance as of late – which suits both of us just fine. Just endearingly fine.
Love Verses from a Hopeless Romantic
I’ve come up with a few small poems to celebrate my passion for the printed word. I’d like to think I’ve gotten better at doing this, but I’m not so sure.. Anyway, I’m hoping you’ll like them.
Let the wonders of heavens
send me back into the past,
so I may choose no other splendor
than the moment
I was sitting right next to you..
-ooo-
Raindrops on roses
after a soft spring rain
kindle fragrant memories
of how I used to revel
in the grace of your love..
Caught Up in the Rapture
There’s a certain someone who’s making me happy these days. It’s not that I suddenly found myself in a relationship or something. No, it’s not like that at all. I’m not even sure I can consider this a romantic feeling. But yeah, I like the guy (Of course, he’s a male). And I intend to keep his identity a well-guarded secret. I hope none of the people I see everyday would manage to sneak in this particular entry as they might be able to get an inkling as to who the person could be. How did it happen in the first place? Well, recent events had me cornered in an emotional checkmate that left me a little dazed. I managed to recover alright but found myself already smitten. Too late..
I’ll just say that he’s funny, smart, considerate and beautiful. Nonetheless, I can tell he’s a bit of a bad boy. (Yeah right, here I go again. I’m totally hopeless. Tsk tsk..) And oh, I almost forgot, he’s urm, younger (Now please, don’t give me that look. I’ve still got a teen-age heart, remember?). I just like him. Well, as in Like with a capital L. Nothing more than that. I intend not to let him know about it, don’t worry. I’d really rather not. Otherwise, it’s gonna be a bad road to travel. That I’m certain of.
At this point in my life, I try to stay away from emotional complications. I know myself well enough. I can be a mess when it comes to the affairs of the heart. The annals of my romantic history would be able to prove that.
Anyway, I’m simply keeping him in my heart.. And that’s all for now..
What else have I been up to lately?
I’m still drooling over Chris Hemsworth. The hottie who played Thor in the movie of the same title. Love, love his face, and his voice… Let’s not even get into the body, okay?
I read a certain book that swept me off my feet. It’s titled “Singular Existence” by Leslie Talbot. It’s one of the funniest books I’ve ever read which happens to target my demographic as a single woman in her ah, “late thirties.” She’s completely hilarious with her biting wit and shrewd commentaries. I carry the book everywhere I go nowadays, reading it again and again. I recommend it to every single lady, young or old. Be prepared though to be blown away by her radical views about certain issues that plague the realm of Singlehood.
My son is back in school after a two-month vacation. Now I miss having to come back home from work, turning in the key to open the door and see him just there, in all his splendid adorability. Pardon me, he’s still my baby after all.
I’ve also been contemplating on finally ending my (close?) friendship with one of my colleagues at school. We have very little in common. We’ve got opposing points of view on several matters. Frankly, I’m just way smarter than him (it’s true, it’s true). And our friendship couldn’t withstand the crisis it had undergone a few months back. I felt then that my friendship had been totally taken for granted. I used to think I’d miss having him around as my bestfriend. Surprisingly, I don’t miss him at all now. I’m actually grateful for the distance between us these days. Things do change.
I’ll leave you with a message that I just posted on my FB wallpost a few minutes ago. It’s meant to be dedicated to the current apple of my eye. Here goes:
Things have surprisingly come to a full circle.
As you’ve done your part on what you think is right for you.
I guess it’s better to take matters one day at a time.
Which leaves me too with no excuse not to do my best for you, once more..
Welcome back.
< Yup, yours truly is happily smitten and inspired.> (Pathetic huh?)
Happy Birthday to the Love of My Life!
My son and I celebrated his 19th birthday just a few days ago. Nothing grand. And it’s just the two of us which is how it’s always been.
I managed to post some special messages on his FB wallpost. I posted them on mine as well to show the world how much he means to me. And I’ve decided to share them to my readers here as well. Three messages for 3 consecutive days before his actual birthday. Here they are:
1st day
As your birthday approaches, I can’t help but realize how blessed I’ve been to have you as my son. I may not be the best mom in the world but I sure am the luckiest.. Because you’ve always loved me to pieces, inspite of my frailties, in your own endearing ways.
Only in your love can I feel heaven and earth as one..
2nd day
The love that has sustained me all these years is the very same love that will grace my heart for eternity.. Happy 19th Birthday to my dearest son.
I can’t imagine my life without you..
3rd day
I can never know of a love as compelling as a mother’s love for her child. In the same vein that all the love and riches of this world can’t compare to the rapture of holding you dearest to my heart.
Happy !9th Birthday to you, my son.
I’m just so happy to have you near me.
So there they are. I tried my best to my express my feelings in words though my love for him remains ineffable. And it got me thinking these days about how I’ve done in life as a mother. It’s true, I can’t consider myself as one of the best moms in the world for the simple fact that I’m not even fond of children. And I”ve made some mistakes I’m too mortified to confess as a parent.
When I was still a young lady, having children wasn’t among my top priorities. My unplanned pregnancy 20 years ago was sort of an accident. When my marriage ended when my son was barely 10 years old, I wasn’t sure then how I’d be able to cope. Though now I believe I did splendidly. I may not be mother material nor the selfless kind of mom, but I’m not the type as well who would pass my responsibility to others, however heavy it is. And so I carried on all these years with just my strength and determination to finish to the end.
I’d also like to congratulate my dear son for recently completing his third year in college. Three more years to go including his board review and his studies will be over. Hopefully, we’re gonna do just fine. What matters now is just for us to be able to get through. Yes we’ve been through a lot. Hopefully, everything is going to be okay as long as we are still safe and in good health. All I can say is God has been good to me and I thank Him endlessly for giving me my son. There’s really nothing more I could ask for.
Bohemian Sentiments 