A Song for Susan

Straight into the sky I soared

Under a blanket of uncertain stars,

Straight into the dark I bored

Amidst the glaring lights of wayfaring cars;

Nauseated by serpentine fumes,

Caught in the embrace of its coils;

Leveling my gaze at the road that looms

Ahead, I push on and toil.

I look for your light in a sea of lights,

Reinvigorated only by your glow, knowing

Each time I cross the midnight blue

Just brings me back to the dawn of you.

Happy birthday to my lovely (and not to forget, loving) wife, Susan. The music (and a lot of possible edits to the lyric) will come later. But God willing, I know we have the rest of our lives to make it.

39

Most walk these halls

Leaving only the dust of their feet —

Delible footprints from vacuous souls.

A few rise above the din

Of footfalls and empty proclamations,

Making their imprint last

Beyond what custodians can sweep

And time diminish.

Un-broken

Today, my wife and I celebrate six years of marriage (and in less than two weeks, twelve years as a couple). I am deeply thankful for having Susan come into my life, as she made me believe that I am deserving and capable of love even during my darkest moments.

This short snippet of verse that I wrote doesn’t begin to express my gratitude and love for her, but I am hoping that it’s a start.

Un-broken

Hopeless, fragile, small, shadow of a man
Praying
Lost in a sea of intentions
Hoping
Flailing, grasping… finding where hope began
Breathing
Breaking free from the past’s dungeon

Happy anniversay, ‘ga. May the years ahead still find us happily holding each other’s hand.

Fountain of Youth

Bubbles of pure joy prove the hardest to find
In the recesses of volatile mem’ry,
Displaced by the perception of importance —
Meaning is newspapered to show the tawdry.

We fall sway to the temptation of being
Faster, stronger and happier than we are;
Yet, it is the present that reveals the one
Reflection that fickle mem’ry cannot mar.

Distilled Moments: Crossing Worlds

In a sea of eyes, I caught yours –
They were smiling and twinkling,
Inviting me to sit with you.
And I did, not even thinking.

Breathing in the soul of your smile,
I breakfast on your luscious voice.
The drawn-out ride ends in a blink.
I hesitate to make the choice

To disembark from this daydream,
To abandon a hope gone dim —
That in the many, many worlds
In all but one, you won’t love him.

__________

As with most forms of poetry, this syllabic-verse piece is open to many interpretations; but I'm hoping that my friend, Ising, will recognize the message I've specifically written in between the lines for her.

Distilled Moments: Life in Wax

At first spark, we all are
Tiny, wavering creatures —
Needing hands cupped over
Our beginning fragile glow.

In our youth we blaze on
Carefree, shining in unison
With companions and loves;
Defying the winds that blow.

As the tallow shortens,
We bear the load of purpose
To brighten the path,
The dark, the cold — what lies yon.

As the wick is consumed,
We gleam brightly one last time;
Rekindling not the fire,
But, instead passing it on.

__________

My mother turned 67 another year older yesterday. This poem is meant to remind her of the many lives she has touched with her light. Happy birthday, Ma.

Distilled Moments: Network Busy

Network Busy

Words travel through the air

Finding themselves lost.

A mire of broken

Promises and lost souls,

Awaiting oblivion.

Lies told at the speed of light —

Breaking hearts in a wink,

Fetching tears from her eyes.

No beep, no buzz, no cheer;

Just whispers to limbo.

Distilled Moments: Balak

The words that fall between a longing stare

And knowing heart, is only heard in hush.

These ephemeral wisps of what could be

Our life in turmoil. Intertwined, enmeshed. 

__________

 

I'm off to attend a wedding today. I’ve always been a guy who likes his social interactions in small doses (credit that to my being an introvert), so you can only imagine (if you're one of the carefree, extraverted types) how overwhelming it will be for me. 

 

Sadly, marriage has become more of an industry than an institution. And it doesn’t help how weddings are over-glamorized now that in the months leading to it, there are more plans made for the day itself than the years after it.

 

Well, I’m actually just trying to prepare myself for the onslaught event, which is why I’ve written down a stanza of blank verse that I will ‘grow’ into a full poem at a later time.

Distilled Moments: Father’s Day

 

Turn the key and then we’re off to
Grand adventures under sky and
Sun. Your belly giggling, dancing,
Fighting back the sorrows, now and
Done.

Distilled Moments: Simulacrum Scroll

Finessed beyond a measure too unreal,
A trite expression makes the lie congeal.
Coquettish girls enswathed akin to sprites,
Entranced by praise and yet compelled to spite.
Between a minute’s passing, love is born
On promised flights of fancy; a ruse for scorn.
Of fates entwined, of hearts in sync as one;
Kathump! Kathump! And soon it’s all but done.

Distilled Moments: To Tread a Measure

‘Hello,’ your eyes voiced with a cursory glance.
We are a room apart from an awkward advance.
‘How are you?’ your feet shyly stuttered.
‘We can’t be having this talk.’ my inept hands uttered.
‘Hi, are you having fun?’ your lips finally asked.
In mute praise, I tugged at my flimsy mask.
‘It’s loud here!’ you read off my face.
My heart confessed, ‘I like you... your party, this place.’

Distilled Moments: The Color of Your Tears

Your lavender dress flutters in the wind;
Leaving your scent, your goodbye.
Your fingernails of a Thulian hue,
splintered from clinging on to a shadow.
Tea rose-stained eyes, a magenta glow
And a spurious smile could not undo
The hurt of a carmine-sunset lie.
Your lavender dress flutters in the wind.

Distilled Moments: Sexes

Sigh,
Hesitate;
Eternal
Limbo. Outdo, outdrink
Kamikazes. Saddish,
Handsome
Eavesdroppers.
Suspect-trivia appetizer,
Raindance exhortations —
Salacities.

Distilled Moments: Boon

One beat, two hearts.
No three words could
etch on the skies what
life has been with you.
On to the years,
veiled in doubt, with
each pulse still in sync.

Distilled Moments: Just P-cause

Astoundingly bad?
Curiously deranged?
Each futile gesture —
haughty, insipid.
Juxtaposed knaves,
loquacious matriarchs —
needless, obsolete, puerile.
Quibbling, redundant statesmen
thieve under veil.
Wishfully Xeroxing
yesterday’s Zeppelin.

Distilled Moments: Chicken Soup for the Chicken

Distilled Moments is my way of preserving a thought or a moment in verse; allowing the words to simmer until only the essence of what was captured remains.

There must be a flaw,
deeply engraved
into the soul of men
for our penchant to ask
for what we think we need,
yet not wanting it as much
as we’ve led you to believe
once we get it.
One apple shouldn’t ruin the bushel,
but some get picked anyway.