My Feverish Pen was wallowing in its misery,small enough to subdue its melancholy,bright enough to throw into reliefthe dark plastic that cluttered it. i heard that much rage was crawlingtogether with its flooded ink trying to fetch fresh ink and wet its tip that yearns to bleed words of relief. Read more…
Within the stillness of the darkest night,
When all the world is lost in peaceful sleep,…
1. THAT DOUBT Like us in our heart, we know,Not to believe the world,We once believed a long time ago. Like us in our lament,We say more than we can chew,Even when the world looks nice,Not hunting us, we still have that doubt. 2. TRUTH IN A BELIEF Why do Read more…
i scribble in my face, my father_ who found strands of my hair in the teeth of my comb, i remembered when he sewn in the heap in my yard, roses, bougainvilleas, hibiscuses with their sprouts and petals of reds & pinks. but that night, he breathed hope into the Read more…
Why I Write… There were dark momentsDarker than molten obsidianThat darkens the seasonsAnd made me act dark Solace couldn’t offer solacePeace had a hurricane in itJoy was feigned on dysphoriaAnd I hoped beyond Hope So I bare my soul to my penAnd the pitiful thing criedAnd did bleed all on my scrollThat pains Read more…
…I was the Handsomest Apollo, dear Artemis would always
say, “oh god of beauty”…
When erosion comes the way
The weak soil, it swims away
The irony of life bang them till they cum
But for us, we make them bum…
