Compasses & Ticking Clocks

 

This is my calendar:

stuffed to the brim until finals

and after:

summer class, lab, lecture, work

I wonder and worry

incessantly

about whether or not

I will get things done

whether or not

I will succeed

 

until I remember that

 

there is a time to work, a time to play,

a time to love and be loved,

a time to weep

and to rejoice

a time to live, and a time to die

 

a time to      [                           ]

to      [                          ]

and     [                       ]

 

I laugh at myself,

at my folly (a time to be folly-ful)

 

a time to      [                           ]

to       [                         ]

and     [                       ]

 

a time to

 

stop

 

and ponder

if where I am now

is exactly where

I’m supposed to be

 

————————————————————————————————–

May your path be ever straight, may you always be guided by His light.

Kin

Let’s run and skip on the

playground

knees skinned bodies soaring

above

the turf-Earth

backsides resting on rubber spaceships

dizzy and

drunk

with laughter

giddy

we fall

 

I think now

that God

took the world

the blazing stars

and put them in

 

you

 

heavens and dreams

shining

hidden,

kept secret

behind your

little-boy body

the limbs that have now stretched

with time

 

I do not play on playgrounds anymore and

neither do you

 

But still I see

the light

that shines within you

mischievous eyes framed

by dark lashes

your steady, disarming honesty

your smile

 

those things remain

———————————————————————————

dVerse poets: you’ve stolen my heart and left me speechless

She Moves Mount Fuji

I long to paint a picture of
her
with my words,
to sketch in
the fair skin (one too many times
baked
brown
by the fiery kisses of the Sun)
her laughter
it reminds me of warm soda
bubbling over the cup’s brim,
it fizzes, larger than life,
and I
am happy

or
her voice.
      I have wrapped myself within
      the
      sympathy and comfort of her
      voice
      been wrist-slapped scalded by
      it
      heard the eye-rolling sighs in it
      witnessed the soulful animated
      melodies

of it
singing belting the belly-deep
opera sounds

Now it is my turn
to be her rock
to embrace her and say
everything will be okay
as she stands
decked in the somber tones
of black
and crisp starched white
nervously awaiting her
interview

she has been told
they will ask her how
to move Mount
Fuji

I want to tell her
remember how we met
the first day of math class,
the first day of high school?

I want to tell her
that one day
she will attend my wedding

that I think she is
one of the most beautiful, caring
friends
I am lucky to know

I want to tell her
            purple is her color lets get Pinkberry
            chocolate is my favorite too movie
            days are the best being
            around you I can
just
be
myself
effortlessly

That she is one of my closest friends.

Instead I say,
“Don’t worry, this
interview will be a piece of cake.”

As we walk towards the library
bodies swinging through
the revolving doors

—————————————————————————————-

For Kelly. 
P.S. I am not transferring.

A Strange Contraption

This poem is in response to using one of these babies for the first time:

Coffee, anyone?

we stand
in our socks
a teapot filled with
steaming water
that has yet to enter
our bellies
the shiny metallic
pot
where
the mahogany
grains
delicately
sink

to

    the

          bottom

strange contraption
a light
casting shadows on
your cheeks

contraption sifts
water and grain
become
one
my palm
over yours
like
coffee to
milk

a perfect blend

Home

I walk down the blocks of the city that

defines me and millions of others

but what I feel is not what they feel

what I dream of,

they do not

 

Crisp winter air kisses my cheeks and bids me

good morning

as the crowds of business men and women

swoop off

to their

respective places

blazers and suitcases and cell phone and

coffees burning cigarettes

 

faded dreams

 

they rush off and are gone

 

In Gramercy

skyscrapers tower, they are concrete masses

with uncountable windows though

minute details set them apart:

the building that looks as if it is made out of legos

the “Big-Ben” wanna-be, elegant and tall (minute hand

reminding me I must get to class)

the I’m too busy boxy home to corporate

America may we file your taxes

insurance   life(savings)?

 

Bare trees, naked and devoid of

their shade

reach out

and remind me

of something that is lost

among these buildings

 

An ominous, mysterious smoke rises from

beneath the ground

and I laugh at the cliche-ness of

my city

with its street vendors hi I’d like a bagel

with cream cheese

the serene and spiritual beings

eyes closed in meditation at the park

they igonore

the roar of the trains this is eighth street next

stop Union Square

the dizzying commotion of people

the flocks of pigeons perching about

the greedy squirrels to whom I scream

get lost I am not going to feed you!!!

 

I don’t know the faces in the crowd

yet strangely enough

they are like me

we go off to work to school

to our families friends

 

we have felt so untouchable in a

city so huge, so

unbreakable

 

we have felt so fragile and alone

among the zooming blur of taxi cab slurs

and glaring, flashing billboards that

fail to illuminate the never-ending darkness of the night

 

we have failed and triumphed, the

street bums drugs drunkenness black

eyes gun shots

hopeful students protests people of

every race religion background

whose dreams and hearts and souls

mesh

into one

a testimony to the city

to whom my restless spirit is kindred

to where

my lips and heart

bespeak

one word:

 

home.

 

———————————————————————————————————————

To all dVerse poets: you’ve stolen my heart and eyes<3

Her heart was like

glass,

crystalline and so

dazzlingly beautiful

 

it sparked each time the

light bounced

off

its curved surfaces

 

until one day

//it broke//

 

leaving its

hard    sharp

bits

sparkling and cutting

my feet

eyes hands

 

each time I passed by

or tried to put the

fragile glass pieces

together again

it crumbled and became a

mess

of blood and glass

in my hands

 

Only then

did I cry

and only then did

the fragile

magnificent

glass heart

become a true

beating one

arteries pounding pulsing

beating

life

in my hands

this is what you do

to me

you take my anger

it is raw and wounded

cruel

like the lies that

twisted me

that way

 

you lock up the

pandora’s box

that threatens to break me

 

break you

us

–sometimes

 

and dissolve it

in the warmth of your

arms

the sweet softness of your

mouth

and the shadow of our love

“Life is either one daring adventure or nothing” -Eleanor Roosevelt

Are we to start again with the 8-5? So soon?

Am I to relinquish the

s

l

o

w

languid beginning of each day, when my muscles

lie in slumber and I choose to wake up and greet the day

one

two

three hours later?

Am I to now scurry off to school

a slave to the minute-hand on the clock please

God, let this train move, why are these

blocks

so

freaking

long?!?!?

Must I give up my

pancake-making, pajama-wandering, yawning mornings to

bleary eyes jumping alert to the monotone

beeps of the alarm calmly informing me I should have caught the train by now?

Goodbye books that I had the time to get lost in.

Goodbye worry-free days, entire afternoons spent with my only love.

Come at me homework laden nights, head

dropping with sleep, blast of February air, crowded spaces, smoke filled

corners,

New York City at

its…

best?

Come at me

Chemistry dinitrogen monoxide isotopes oxidation numbers and the like!

Let’s see how my long school days go, and my days off

…Four months = one semester!

I am sure

it will not be that bad, but

wow, I cannot believe a month has gone by

and that I start on Friday.

Time flies when you are enjoying life…

Running

I leave the

thin-banded

metallic

watch behind

so as to lose

track

of the seconds

minutes

passing by

 

Instead

the grey and

purple

rubber soles

high-fiving

the ground,

the unleveled breaths

slabs of pavement

bright sunlight,

which slips through the

spindly bare

branches,

and wisps of

winter air,

the slow turn of

the Earth

my primitive time-clock

 

where this

moment

both

fades

and comes to

life

A Slice of the World

“It’s a choice between faith and fear.”

Here is an awesome article that I found about how “millions of Catholic devotees” carried the “Black Nazarene” Cross throughout the Philippine capital of Manila, despite warnings that a terrorist attack might ensue. This article really moved me because of the devotion that people still chose to show even in the face of impending danger. This crazy happening made me think of what Jesus said to the crowds of people in his Sermon on the Mount: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake: theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10).

The “Black Nazarene” cross, according to the article, is thought to be special as it survived a blaze in the ship that was transporting to from Mexico to the Philippines in 1606, as well as the bombings of WWII (Gomez).

It makes me think: Do I have a faith so strong that I would choose to give my life? And, do you have something worth living and dying for?