radius
i trace a line
towards your center
this is our radius
but the distance
i cannot measure
you define these things
i merely comply
you define this fate
which haven’t been mine
what you call music
the heavy strings
drowned in statics
immersed in daunting synths
deep in the quietest noise
the solitary choice
you float in purest liquid
of what you call music
you’re high with chanting echoes
the owners you barely know
you drink them up anyway
and your shards try to re-assemble
in a dream of skyscapes
and the old cassette tapes
the smell of library books
and the summer class you never took
when you and your bed
are the best of friends
you just want to be home
and never pick up the phone
a few more decibles higher
farther now from here
defying what is becoming
outside
summer rain pouring
*for shoegazers
dali’s painting
like in salvador dali’s painting
but no one knows this
everyone is working
of kept griefs and furies
but no one feels this
everyone is talking
engaged with themselves
praising and noticing
their own selfish realms
errors, solutions
low
i feel really low
and as if
i am the only one
who knows
i am trying to put
"this"
into words
but my soul is tired
of thinking why
and figuring how
we can continue
"now"
and also worry
for "tomorrow"
"post-it"
we never really know
the sky undressed before me
the sky undressed before me
and breathless i stood still
‘took off its daylight clothes
over crimson, purple, teal
the last of the crepusculars
peeped through cloud wisps
ball of fire dipping low
waist-down the horizon kissed
the sky unveiled the darkness
embraced east until west
i, the star, witnessed everything and more
but from here i shall keep the rest
god
last last week wednesday, before proceeding to my 10 am class for geography, i stopped by the restroom to answer nature’s call. i kind of developed a habit of reading the writings on the wall by vandals once inside the cubicle searching for something that might probably make me:
a)cringe b)laugh or crease up c)mull over it then agree or disagree in my mind d)upset e)dumbfounded f)exist in a state of skepticism g)exist in a state of wonder.
questions, swears or profanities, statements, names, phone numbers, threats, declarations, generalizations - name it. there are a wide variety of topics but quite a large portion of the space are consumed by those mushy questions about boyfriend/girlfriend relationships and provocative sex inquiries that are, needless to say, surrounded with amusingly different advises and remarks. yes…there is a massive forum or message board going on inside the girls’ restrooms! anyone who would read those things in the cubicle couldn’t help but participate or react on it even without literally writing it on the spare spaces - seeing those networks of assorted markers, gel pens, ballpoints, lipsticks, fossilized chewing gums (hehehe) and unknown entities that i would rather not examine.
anyway, that’s just an introduction. ok, then there are also some kind of literary attempts (so it’s also a sort of a huge open journal) and one caught my attention because written below its title (of course there should be a title!) is the name "Lourd Ernest H. de Veyra" (not sure with the spelling). yes, the front man of Radioactive Sago Project, one of the most controversial and most loved pinoy bands. i presume Lourd composed it and that it was written by probably, one of her devout fans or girl friends, whatsoever. it’s actually not hard to believe that Lourd did this poem, for through the way he speaks and writes songs, there’s blatant proof that he possess profound comprehension in things. and he’s got a sense of humor so, yes…i admire him for that. but the composer of the poem isn’t such an issue for me. the poem just striked me like a shaft and in a short while, i was already searching for a pen and a paper inside my bag - copied it.
GOD
Lourd Ernest H. de Veyra
That night, he was a beer bottle
Wrapped in cold sweat
Radiating over amber light
The Greeks believed he was a circle
Nietzsche said he was dead
But the conclusion of the tale
told by fifteen bottles
God is a bed
at the CS lib
the 85th
so many good stuff, so little time
good stuff two: we installed a new encarta because we kind of reformatted our pc and thank god…our pc’s back to normal.
good stuff three: i finally got hold of the new coldplay album which is x&y and it’s profoundly coldplay. no further explanations needed. as usual, coldplay did it again. they are simply great. of course, the songs have gone through a kind of evolution (mostly are kraftwerk inspired…so you know..the electronic effects thingy) but as a devout fan, i am totally open for that. fave tracks are x&y, white shadows, square one and the hardest part. eff. i love them.
good stuff four: consider this…
auroras and noctilucent clouds only happen at high-latitude areas - those near the north and south poles. so…yes, i know…i have accepted the fact, that as long as i am here, i will never ever see one of those effingly beautiful scenes. ok? (i first posted this on my lj: www.livejournal.com/~countingfridays)