War and Peace

I hate it...

when there is conflict.
when I have to mediate.
and when it isn't even necessary
at all.

And yet,
and yet--

it is a way of letting things out:
disclosing
secrets
secrets
s
ecret
s.

But what of me,
no-conflict-please me?

For under conflict,
there are more
unsaid,
hidden
deep
deep.

Words can rent the air and rip the soul
but the lingering gaze can paint
still more.

on sleep, actually.

Night's becoming day
freefall flux continuous
and so on and on.

Delayering

Amidst all the glitz and glamor
hype and beatbeatbeat
she was stricken with
indecisive paralysis.

She ran and ran
inward
away
hiding
to seek

silence meaning
[silence].

Refusing to look
see
herself
hiding behind chaos
behind layer upon
layer
[obtuse]

staying
away
keeping reality
at bay
.
.
.
.
.

but

what if

just a little

she starts peeling away
picking at a little
then ripripRIPPINGaway
?

revealing the truth beneath
[naked, vulnerable]
+
[fragile]
.
[take care]
of harsh

reality
+

then she discovers

it's not so bad
:
she discovers
-
-
she's beautiful.

Change

I feel I'm changing

but

I don't recognize myself anymore.

and that is
seriously
disturbing.

Indeed, it is disturbing
because
I am roused
from the familiar
to the unfamiliar.

Is it good or bad?

I alone will know.

A Tenuous Relationship

Hurtful words
released:
hateful, angry words
blaming incidentals
on the innocent.
Affront
indignation
prescription of
a bitter pill
to be imbibed
when necessary.

-I love my Dad; I really do. Heck, I know I'm lucky I even have a Dad! But there are days when he can just be too much. Today was one of them. My point is, if he's in a funk, he doesn't include others who have nothing to do with it into that funk. Other people don't have to feel miserable, don't have to be stressed, just because he is. It's not that I don't care, but I figure, why stress over something unavoidable (like traffic)? And cursing the air blue, thickening the air with tension, won't clear the traffic up. Nor is the traffic jam MY fault. Hello?!

So I cried--out of indignation, out of outrage, out of incredulity, out of hurt. And unlike others who feel relieved after a crying jag, I just felt funky, wretched and plain exhausted--exactly why I hate it when I cry (which consequently isn't often). I cried in the car. I cried again when I spoke to my Mom in the English Department (it's a good thing it was a Tuesday: hardly anyone save Ate Jo and Ate Rack...(and Dr. Vilches in her office) were there! Ohmigoodness, how mortifying! But shit happens. So I just plunged myself into work. Later, even my grandma called to commiserate! (I assure you, this is real life!) She told me just to bless the offender in my mind. How Christian. Ah well. ;) So there. I just followed Mom's advice, which was to just "offer it to God as my good deed for the day." Well, so I didn't follow it as she said it, but as the poem above says, I [am just to] swallow the bitter pill. I listened to my music, took a short nap, and breathed it all OUT.

As I said, shit happens. But we get up and move on. And yoga has helped me so much to deal with such events. I just breathe a bit and try to move past it. How I wish my Dad could imbibe even a little of that.

Monsoon Season

Water water
everywhere all around
dripping, beating-bearing down
savagely relentlessly mercilessly
soaking
clothes
hair
skin.

The very walls are seeped with
water, moisture.
The skin is bloated (bursting) with
water

but

the water continues to bear down
down
down.

Twilight

Tonight
beckons with its stillness,
its lazy calm:
the crickets chirping their benediction.

Tonight
lures with its inky blackness,
its velvety silence
the desolate isolation.

Tonight
comes the irresistible siren’s call:
to revel,
to (be) still
(in solace)
in sleep.

Complacency in Conspiracy

Homeostasis
I am in the cradle of civilization
(I am its cradle)
asleep curled up
lying in wait
biding
biding

'til catastrophe
threatens
to break the cradle
shatter into a million pieces
eschew the wood
masticate pulpify
until it
(I)
turns to dust

but that is still too far away
for now

I will sit back
lie still
drift into slumber
complacency
amidst
conspiracy

To My Beloved Stranger

You probably won't read this,
nor know of its existence. For
after all,
we only meet once
in a week
exchange pleasantries,
then
go about the business of living.
Nevertheless--
thank you,
for teaching me how to truly savor again,
pause to feel the air
dance to the music
marvel at the whistling wind,
to re-engage in life's mystery
to rediscover my innermost being
for reawakening my inner goddess,
for loving myself
all over again.

Appendage

Legs.Feet--
alabaster,
long and
lean,
smooth
perfection unflawed

but

golden
narrow knotted
vein-filled, rough
chunky

real

and

mine.

Anti-Nirvana

Will you allow me
to dream
blueberry dreams
henna hues
orange sunsets
and
purple dawns?

I want to
dream,
aspire,
for vibrance
passion.

Will you allow me
to reach
(feel)
my state of
bliss?

Beautiful Beast

Is it beauty that
vanquishes
the beast,
or the beautiful beast
vanquishes
the brutish belle?

Another light dims
for darkness to envelop
as the world get
smaller
lonelier once again.

The Phenomenology of Blood

I smell its coppery, metallic smell.
Mal--to my odor,
red red red
color of life coming, going
seeping in
seeping out.
I touch its viscosity
and yet it is liquid
run run run
awayalloveraround
body
system
tissue
heart

bearer, deliverer
taketh, bringeth away
of

life, life, life.

B-E-A-U-T-Y

Beauty is in
you, me
(all of us)
.
Beauty is in
providence, fate
unfolding uncurling
(letting things be)
.


Beauty is in
the eye of the
beholder/beholdee

Beauty is
us
all.

Transformation

I want to
change
change you
be changed

mold
twist
shape
(be shaped)
.

Let me be the change
(be my change)



or maybe not.

Family Time

Dinner on the table
family time
is it
really?

Time to let
my hair down
put
my leg up
(if I want to)
laugh out loud.

Can I really?

Or would you perhaps
want
a starched dress,
pearls,
white
satin
gloves
with stiletto heels--
the
whole
shebang?

Please
(oh please Daddy please)
tell me
tell me.

I would so like to know.

Balancing Act

It's not easy--
working and studying,
being
student
colleague
daughter.

But that's fine.

It gets exponentially harder
when
I'm compressing
an application, entrance test,
current exam, advanced report with
final exam
coupled with
work,
deadlines
deadlines
(deadly deathly deadlines)
balanced with
stress-beating exercise
creative output
family interactions
transport negotiations
bedtime curfew
family time
and other daily ablutions.

Just breathe.

But sometimes even that's
not
enough.

Little Mermaid

Before the sun rises
she must
kill
kill
kill
him, they say,
before
she turns to foam.

We sheared
our crowning glories
for you
for you
(they say)
to kill
kill
kill him
(do it)

She thinks back

wrenched of her beautiful
(soul-shattering)
voice

for

knives down her
tail-become-legs,
the impossibility of return,
of betrayal
from love



But she cannot
cannot
do it.

For she still remembers
a stormy night
her first night on the surface
and saving him
saving him
from inundation
hauling his waterlogged body
singing into him life.

No, she cannot
cannot
do it

as she hurls the knife
to the sea
to her heart
jumping
flailing
falling

down
down
to the briny deep
blue
beyond blue
light
ascending to

light
becoming
air
daughter of
air
to one day
attain her heart's desire



a human soul.

One of a Kind

Stop
the hate
the self-abuse
the mean words
thrown back
at
yourself.

Wake up--

you're unique
one of a kind
no one else quite like you:

no one else to be
your hero
your champion
your savior

except

yourself.

Transient

What we shared
was real
as real can be.

It was love
pure
unadulterated
ours

but perhaps

'twas transient
fleeting
not meant to be?

Maybe 'twas
enough
when you had bled
my heart
dry?