Tounge-tied

Sometimes, words

I should be telling you

are suspended

at the tip of

my tongue

So when you ask me

“what’s wrong?”

I can only make out

the easy

“nothing”

And the words

you didn’t hear

died in my lips

and aged with time

I have grown a forest

out of the things

I didn’t tell

and if you listen well

you’ll hear the rain

came from the

questions you never ask

and the weight

drags on every day

that you’ll find my smile

prepared to break

set to die

You see, when words left

Silence knocked

and asked me

to pack my bags

and let go

but you said

“stay”

and

“please, let’s fix this”

and

“listen to me”

I knew I have to throw this away

I should let go

I knew I have to leave

but

Sometimes, words

I should be telling you

are suspended

at the tip of

my tongue

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How can I love thee

Oh love with bright eyes, I come with hands empty — only eyelashes, cheeks, and arms brimming with hopes and dreams

Hopes like fluttering butterflies

and dreams like knights and horsemen, with courage but swords. 
Only with these little hands can I love you

with coffeepots and teacups

with rain-soaked skin 

And dusty floors with pawprints of  dogs
Only with songs of the stars can i love you

I paddled to the shores of the stellar

brought home a pocketful of Tinkerbell’s dust and a handful of Peter’s neverland

to give you
Fly with me

Across the clashing of thunderstorms, past lilies and roses, 

a flight inches from the sea,

Through countryroads,

And postcards,

and mails, 
Only with stones and flames can I love you

With the wet grass under your head and embers suspended in the air failing to reach the sky

Kiss me beneath the stars,

A kiss under the tunnels of stone
Only with the finger’s promise of staying can I love you

I am here in the morning 

And at night, 

to listen to your secrets and little deaths, 

solitudes and rain clouds

Watch your ebb and sinking ships only to rise again
For you come in the midst of my hurricane and cloudburst

To seed yourself in my heart

and grow unearthly special

and you make known to me what is light in the darkness, 

you, my beloved one.

Dear Unexceptional Inhabitant

It’s eight o’clock in this chilly  evening. Even with the windows closed, my room feels like a frozen hell. The red flickers dancing in the fireplace seems to be offering respite from the winter storm but failed. The wind outside was howling like you do when you’re angry except that you’re not howling. Only gnashing your teeth. (See, even the wind reminds me of you.) When I woke up today at six in the morning, I was certain that I’ll spend the rest of the day in this solid bed with a cup of strong coffee, a warm blanket, and a  Twain-book in hand but then I remembered that today your mail may arrive. So my certainty was ruined because of you. With my small feet, I scurried to the mail box in my blue nightwear and the risk I took was not wasted. (Did I just heard you smirk?)

I read and re-read your letter. The first time, reading your idiomatic message. The second time, agreeing with your opinions and at the same time disagreeing with them. And the third time, adoring every words and finding you in them.

And I see, you wanted to know why I am so punctilious when it comes to my affection. And why I chose you, out of all the sly foxes out there. Well, I can always resist my feelings but I am absolute that it will do you no good. Am I right? Well, let me tell you a story and I hope you find answers to your inquisitions.

In this seemingly vast universe, there was this woman who created her own world. For centuries, astronomers and philosophers wondered how her solar system and its planets came to be. They have seen the end result of the planet formation. They have looked at the general image she represented. They perceived the iceberg afloat her waters which is only 10% of the whole of its size. Even with the knowledge gained about her solar system, they were left to wonder, are there other planetary systems out there, and did they form like hers?

For years, they have studied the mysteries of her world, but they have only gone as far as reason would take them. But what they didn’t know is that sometimes reason cannot even explain itself. And there are things which even reason cannot comprehend.

But there was this average occupant. Not an astronomer, or a philosopher. Just an unexceptional inhabitant. This occupant did not only look at the end result, but at the process of formation itself. Instead of accepting the common image, he studied the particular details that made her world. Even though he knew that he cannot possibly determine the depth of the iceberg, he goes beyond the 10% of what is observable and explore what’s underneath the surface. He wondered and still is wondering about her world but he was sure of one thing–That no other planetary systems out there form like hers.

He has studied the mysteries of her world by going beyond reason. There were times when he scratched his head, crossed his eyebrows, and gnashed his teeth because he was unable to fathom her world. The woman once asked him why he never gave up and he gave her the answer she never knew she’d hear. Because for him, she is the mystery he would never be able to fully understand, but will love to live with.

That’s the story. Did I answer your question? I hope I do. Did you notice that I never answered your last letter about man and woman’s equality? I’m feeling generous today to not argue with you about that matter. But in my next letter, I will. Be patient, my dear. Now, I’ll leave my pen in this wooden table because darling, my hands are numb from the cold. I just wanna lie in bed and hear your sweet lullabies through your fancy words. Goodnight my uninvited occupant.

Love,

C.

DEAR YOU

Remember when I told you before that for me love is just a noise?

A disruption of the loveliness of silence. An unpleasant uproar.

That jet-black night, while I was sitting alone in a resto, you pulled the old chair in front of me.

The sound of the chair scraping against the floor was audible. You talked continuously. Your feet tapped the wooden floor.

Your guttural voice was so deep that it filled the air.

And the beauty of silence was gone.

But never before that my ears heard such an enchanting melody. An entrancing tune.

In that instance I found noise.

And I clearly knew that I wanted to hear that noise forever.

I want to be a rainbow

You are her rainbow.

You make her fearless of the raging storm.

You encourage her to believe that you’ll shine her way and brighten her day.

She doesn’t see you often but when she does, she delights in the rush of happiness.

And for a moment, she felt all the colors exploding inside her like fireworks.

You are her rainbow.

You’re not always there.

But she looks for you when there is a raging storm.

You are her rainbow.

And I…

I am her raging storm.

I don’t want to be.

But I needed to.

Because that’s the only way

I’ll exist for her.

You

I keep crossing out word, lines, whole passages

until nothing is left

except  you

I keep deleting names, dates, events and images

until nothing stands out

except  you

I am singing the songs, dancing the beats, painting the pictures

that would remind myself

of  you

I am furnishing my thoughts, putting them together

creating a poem out of loose words

to portray the feelings I have

for  you

But I knew that everyone will read this,

and everyone will notice,

everyone will know

except  you