Beautiful

There’s beauty in life.

In every corner, in each angle, there is beauty.

So, I don’t want to wake up when it’s too late.

I don’t want to open my eyes when my world is too bleak.

I don’t want to appreciate something when it’s far gone.

I don’t want to negotiate when the world already set my course straight.

The little things, the small variations in the angles, make life what it is.

It’s the colors of a portrait that make it breathtaking.

But it’s the angles of the colors that make it priceless.

It’s the direction of the gentle strokes that make it unique.

But what makes it astonishing; it’s where it’ll finally feel at home.

No matter how many buyers admire it, there’s one that connects with it.

And that is where its beauty lays, a connection of souls.

A connection of souls that wakes you up,

A connection of souls that colors your world with its beauty,

A connection of two souls that gives your life, life!

So when i do find home, please remember to remind me.

To feel beautiful, at home!

beautiful

 

.

.

Sinking Thoughts

It had been just but a few years, pretty rough, in my thoughts.

People had been through hell and back, yet I felt I was in one.

I keep on wondering what really I had accomplished.

Was I an inspiration?

Was I a role model?

Was I but an older guy like the rest?

I had dreams, I wrote down goals.

The law of attraction they said.

Pray more they said.

So I dug deeper into a muddy pool of quick sand.

Only that I wasn’t sinking.

I was stuck, sinking in my own thoughts.

Every day, I sat on the same chair.

Every day, I realized the veracity of my life.

Every day, thoughts of my dreams reminded me of what I hadn’t accomplished.

A cycle of never-changing days, each day absolutely the same with the next.

I also had dreams, young and ambitious.

I went ahead and took on life, a desire to do everything.

A desire, filled with castle-air promises.

Time, ticking away slowly, is of the essence.

An escape is all I needed.

Leave my mind behind, sinking in its thoughts.

*telephone rings*

My thoughts pause, just for a while.

The voice on the other end reminds me of my obligation.

The voice reminds me of my big dreams that got narrower and specific.

The voice reminds me of my small yet of magnitude accomplishments.

The voice reminds me of a home I’m to go to.

The voice reminds me of family I’ve built up.

The voice is a constant reminder that I’m still on the highway of life.

A voice, reminding me that I’m young enough to dream,

But old enough to do what it takes, to accomplish them, step by step.

Voices, mature enough to show me what I’ve build so far.

They remind me, through my sinking thoughts.

lost-in-thought.jpg

Promise Me

It’s the last day of a long year.

Nothing has changed, really, to the better.

It is as it was, the first day of the year.

I’m still drowning in my own tears.

I can’t stop because of a heavy heart.

Everything in between the year was as beautiful as the universe itself.

A universe drenched in darkness.

As promises echoed through my veins, my smile got rearranged.

My laughter replaced.

It felt like heaven, the darkness itself.

Somehow it turned into my light.

Something about drowning,

Something about hitting the bottom was liberating.

Something about it was unexplainable.

The only way after hitting the rock bottom, was up.

But I needed to take my rock bottom with me.

For it fired me into everything I was.

A new being, facing anything.

I yearned for everything in-between the darkness and light.

Ships sink for letting water in, not mine.

Sailing with the gods, to let the darkness in,

For it was the source of my light.

Until when I’m full, I’ll drown in her darkness, her broken promises.

And my broken pieces will be liberated into the light of the darkness.

But just promise me to pause, and enjoy the liberation.

dark

Dream About Me

I get lost in my dreams, but I never stop dreaming.

Thoughts remind me in the morning that I am still human, not an animal.

Painting faces, coloring worlds but my own.

Save the best for last.

Yet my dreams swim alone in dark rooms, pretending.

Pretending it’s a world full of city streets and candles.

I don’t know what happens inside them.

I wish I could.

I wish I did call my dreams, late in the night.

Talk endlessly, living in self-mirages.

I wish I could hear its voices, in my head.

Guiding path of wonder and illusion of what’s to come.

dream

Shooting Stars

I wish I believed in shooting stars.

Maybe then I’d be living my fantasy.

Only then could I understand.

Why the sky is full of stars, to be wished upon.

I wish I lived in the moments.

Maybe then I’d realize how life sets you apart to your own journey.

I wish I forced my limits to the sky.

Maybe then I would understand what it’s like to be airborne.

I wish I jumped to opportunities.

Maybe then I’d have been far away living my dreams.

I wish life was unfair.

Maybe then I’d have accepted how fair it in its existence.

Life is a journey.

Full of wishes set out free into the universe.

At the end of every sunset, it doesn’t matter where I’m going or where I am.

All that is brought forth into the horizon in each sunrise is the importance.

An importance of whether or not I keep on moving.

The distance in-between serves as a reminder.

A reminder to keep on wishing, to keep on moving, to keep on building, to keep on growing!

After it’s all said and done, nothing will change how it began.

As a wish!

I’ve been drowned in so many wishes, but no regrets in the end.

Life turns out better than the wish of my wishes, every day.

Everyday, the stars keep on shooting.

So why regret and the sky is full of them?

stars

 

 

Bearers

We don’t need permission, just the blessings of the universe.

Nothing can prevent it, not even distance between us.

It’s only the connection we need.

A bond that grows stronger with each passing cloud.

Never to be broken, or thrown away.

What if we fight?

What if we grow distant?

What if we lose sight?

You asked, tears running its course down your eyes.

I failed to answer.

Not for lack of a response, but because I was ready.

To fight for this unbreakable bond, eternally.

To the heavens and back, to hell and straight back, I was ready.

A warm embrace was I could afford.

A journey we both needed to mold together.

A journey of enlightenment needed no rush.

You needed assurances, I had commitment.

You needed security; I had but my soul only to give.

You needed the world; I had but the universe’s vibration to offer.

I became a bearer of some sorts, opening up his soul.

A damaged soul that became light.

A damaged soul that reached deep within, that became love.

So that when you ever lose sight of our love, just look within me.

So that when you ever feel the distant, come and travel beyond me into our universe.

So that when we ever fight, it will be battle to be stopped before it begins.

I bear the silver platter, of tears and battles.

The greatest of them tears would be the tears of seeing you break into oblivion where love doesn’t exist.

Yet, deep down, you bear the power to see a state of equilibrium.

A balance of love and peace, cosigned within the universe itself.

So who are we to never meet, yet the universe needs us to.

No matter where you are, I’m right here.

No matter where I am, you’ll always be right here.

Because as long as we search for the end of the universe,

We will never cease to be the bearers of each other.

balance

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ropes

It comes rushing in.

Like a beacon of hope, of a cure long waited for.

Like the ranting, of a populous crowd, suddenly stops.

Like a warm ambiance suddenly being ice cold.

Like a tiger finally breathing in, holding on to a breath before jumping on a prey.

Nothing else seems to matter.

Like blood boiling to its temporal points.

It pounces on you.

It doesn’t matter if you called to it.

It just rushes in, devouring every inch of every nerve.

It is more than a want, less of a basic need.

You didn’t need it, but now that it’s there, you can’t seem to go your lifetime without.

You’re courageous, but it seems not to recognize that.

On a constant feeding, never ending to your limits.

Sweat builds up, bringing satisfactory feeling.

Of a position you wanted to be in for so long.

But there you were, next to the edge of the bridge.

Sure with each passing inhale, and exhale.

So you jump.

Sure enough you won’t fly, but trusting enough something will pull you up.

The rope tied to your body.

A security of assurance that once it’s over, it’ll be scrapped off your bucket list.

That rush of adrenaline, the moment you step of a bungee jump.

Realizations creep in, there’s a limit of how low can you go.

The sky has never been a limit.

The cringing limit of how low you can go before bouncing back up is the real question of your ropes to answer.

ropes

 

Walkway To His Heaven

“I still remember the day I left him.

It was cold.

Not your typical cold weather, but my heart was cold.

Full of anger and possibilities of fun, I convinced myself he didn’t need me.

He didn’t need my loved-filled heart.

He needed to blossom.

And the only way was if he didn’t have my baggage.

You see, my beauty and think what baggage would I possibly have?

My constant nagging, my constant drinking, my constant shopping, my constant male friends!

You see, my heart was cold, and full of fun visions.

His was warm, and full of visions.

Even constant calls wasn’t enough, he still texted, cared, loved me.

But I didn’t need him, apart from the occasional steams of passions.

He was amazing, I wasn’t.

He said I was 99% angel and cared less of the 1% devil.

I said he should worry. The 1% was part of each of the 99% angel.

He forgave my young heart even when I indulged deeper into pleasures.

I needed more roughness around the steamy edges.

Then, I saw him walk by the other day!

Lovely strides I thought.

The kinds that make you want with desire.

Then a lady approached him, simple to the eye, sophisticated to the mind.

I never saw any beauty that matched to hers; I’m still impressed, to date.

She hugged him, kissed him lightly on his soft lips; I remember their taste so vividly.

How I wish I had them next to my neck, breathing gentle warm air as he talks about his world.

I was destroyed, crumbled from within.

She, all the while carried a small child, seemingly theirs.

My heart grew softer, warmer.

A tear dropped right out of his heaven’s gates.

Yes, he called my eyes the gates to a walkway to his heaven.

I turned around, and walked away to the path I came with.

Holding on tightly to a shopping bag filled with a drunk’s shopping.

A faint whisper of a child calling him daddy broke my heart.

Carried by the winds, to torment me I presumed.

It broke, to a thousand pieces.

I guess that’s how he felt when I left.”

walking_away

Seconds of Composure

At times we feel lost,

Sometimes those times feel like forever,

Lost in a world that doesn’t exist,

Our minds wonder to the edges,

Edges of sharp bends and dark corners,

We can’t say we know where we’re going,

Neither can we say where we are,

And we hardly remember where we’re from,

All we know; our feet are moving,

Always moving forward,

Never stopping to catch a breath,

Scars that tell endless stories,

Of what once was,

But never is,

Scars of what tried to break us,

Trading all for mere seconds of composure,

We wish we had it all,

Of course we did,

Once upon a time,

They help with the insomniac nights,

Those tale-lies we lullaby to ourselves at night,

Anything goes to not stay awake in our dreams,

For they came with iced-darkness,

Yet no one knows who let it in,

The flash of shimmering light!

When we know,

We’ll open our dusty old war-room,

Ready to fight with the light,

In a battle that doesn’t exist!

light-009.jpg

I Wonder

If time is endless; I wonder why we have deadlines.

If love is priceless; I wonder why it needs more than body and soul.

I wonder why the worst things happen before the best.

I wonder why it is a bleak world to bravest at heart.

If life was simple, the bravest would have a bright future without darkness in the present.

If time is endless; I wonder how the last clock will tick.

If love is priceless; I wonder how it touches the poor and rich together.

I wonder how two souls become one.

I wonder how love is measured.

Life is simple; everyone loves someone who loves someone who hates someone.

If love is describable; I wonder how you would explain the smell of rain or the feeling of forever.

I wonder how you could hold onto forever with a single moment of love.

I wonder how a broken heart could be brave enough to love, again.

If the heart truly breaks, I wonder why someone would be willing to mend it for you.

If life was simple, one would give their heart endless time, to heal.

Because they’d heal the one they are holding onto in their hand.

I wonder how fairy tales bring life to dreams.

I wonder where our dreams collide with our realities.

I wonder what would be satisfactory in the long run;

Loving someone forever…

Or

Loving them every single day of forever…

Either way, I’ll always wonder…

Word-Forever

Categories

Recent Posts