Monday, July 26, 2010

This Heart Of Flesh

I used to believe that a heart of stone is better.
It won’t hurt at the sight of hungry young children at the streets.
It wouldn’t be squeezed at the thought that all you can is leave them
is food for their stomach and not much anything else.
It wouldn’t flinch at the blood
thrown all over your tv screen
during evening news while you eat dinner.
It won’t wonder why some people could do the things that they do
and why people like you let them do so.
It won’t bleed when somebody who is supposed to there forever
had left and you’re alone and no one to wipe away the tears
you wish others will never see.
It won’t hope for something you will never have
because it wasn’t meant for you.
It won’t feel any hurt, any anger or sadness– or anything at all.
A heart of stone doesn’t swell at the sight of a very young boy
whom you expect to be very rude because of how he looks like
help a young lady cross the street and makes you think–
something is very wrong with your judgement.
It wouldn’t overflow with happiness
at the gifts that were meant for you to have;
it won’t thump at the sight of a smile
you’ve been waiting to see.
No, a heart of stone doesn’t leap at the wonders
that God had cleverly placed where you would discover them:
a star, though very faint, still shines through the clouds;
the view of the city, and the clear skies from the floor where you work
after a nasty storm;
and a spot of blue– in the middle of the gray–
presents from Him who takes away
the stone and gives life
to the heart of flesh.
Ezekiel 11:19: I will give them an undivided heart and put a new spirit in them; I will remove from them their heart of stone and give them a heart of flesh.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010


did you catch me
trying not to look at you?
then you must have seen
that i failed.
did you hear me
speak your name?
then i must have spoken
my thoughts aloud.
did you notice
the tinge of pink in my face
and did you hear
a sudden thump
--it was my heart.
then it was not my imagination,
you were looking at me,
and watching me too. :)

Friday, July 16, 2010

There was a butterfly in the middle of the sea

There was a butterfly
in the middle of the sea
Who bravely flew. 
Still got a long way to go...
The waves were crashing
grinding below.
There was nowhere to land
Can't stop to rest
It's death below
What to do?

There was a butterfly
in the middle of sea
Who had gone a long way
What is it doing in such a place?
Who or what is it running away from?

Should it fly on, 
Should it stop?
Either way, death is almost too certain
Which is better then?
To just stop
and let the waves do their work
Or fly on, to hold on to the hope
that the land might be nearby, 
when it could be not?

I feel like 
a butterfly in the middle of the sea
but I am certain that you would come
and rescue me.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Time To

This is the time of the day when thoughts, unbidden, rush in.
Like water from a dam with broken walls,
torn gates, a dam that has ceased to be a dam.
Thoughts that were suppressed. Walled within a brain that sleeps
while the lights are on and then--
 these thoughts upon midnight come and the walls tumble down,
and they flow,
flow, like an avalanche.
Thick. And uninvited.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The World Knows The Secret

there was a secret you told me when i was new
the same secret that you told the flowers
who told me the secret too
back when i was not yet old enough
not to understand
that we had a secret-- me, the flowers, you.

oh, but the trees
the wise old towering trees
were told of our secret, too.
and they would tell me--
remind me of our secret
back when i was yet young and wise enough
to hug the trees and listen to them whisper
our secret-- mine, the flowers, the trees, yours.

of course, the little birds
who built their homes on the trees
knows the secret
they were also told.
and every morning, they'd remind me of that-
the secret that i used to know
before the years dimmed
my understanding of their songs.
and even so, the birds keep singing our secret--
mine, the flowers, the trees, the birds, yours.

the flowers, the trees, the birds
and even the grass under my feet
they all knew the secret
how i could i forget?
but i did-- and worse
I forgot
that the flowers, the trees, the birds
and even the grass under my feet
knew the secret,
tell me of it.
you told them
so I would not forget.

and everything of the world
once in the past was told
of our secret. and some, they remembered
but some,
and I for one,
But the world knows that there was a secret
between me, the flowers, the trees,
the grass under my feet,
and everything of the world and you.

I remember now.

Monday, July 12, 2010

If I Could Shrink

What if could become smaller,
Shrink until I become unseen
Shrink until a speck of dust
becomes bigger than a mountain?

If I could become smaller
smaller than a pin
I could sleep atop my CPU
sleep undisturbed-- unseen.

But then, there would be some problems
Discomfort, you may say.
For the CPU would be very hot
hotter than the streets
on a very hot summer day.

Well then I could sleep at the top of my table
behind the books I stacked.
But the cleaning man may wipe that table
and with me in his wiping cloth-- stuck.

And then there's the problem of being seen
Of growing small, and growing back
for what might people think,
wouldn't that come as a shock?

And how to ensure that I would be the same size as before?
That I would still be as tall (or should I say small)?
What embarrassment, what shame (oh the shame!)
If I become plump as a pillow or as flat as a door.

So if I could shrink
(and I do hope I could not)
I wouldn't, not even If I'm very sleepy
I would not. I would not.

Hapontukin thoughts.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Today I Miss You

Today I miss you
suddenly, like a song
that enters my mind
without warning
I was singing along.

Today I miss you
out of the blue
It came like a flash:
a snapshot of our past
ghost of a laughter
a phantom of what you said
that I couldn't clearly remember
or totally forget.

Today I miss you
there is a little room
that you own without asking
at the back of my head.
and a you-shaped impression
at some little part of my heart
that i could (or would-maybe) not rid.

Today I miss you
just like I did yesterday
... and the day before.