while i was inside

felt like a caged bird...
i wanted some kind of release...
could you hear me banging?
smell the stench i was scared to get up from where i was sitting cos the dirt would have dripped down my legs you would then see my soiled clothes...

would it move you?

if you were to wake up with a box stuffed with half empty bottles would you empty them? would you fill them up? would you just kick them aside and carry on with your day? if during your not-so-good day, you meet a beggar at the corner asking you for a penny would you pretend like you didn't hear him? would you oblige? half looking? would you look him in the eye and actually care? i ask you this because i am wondering if you can spare a minute to care of things not made of you how is it possible that a thing made of you doesn't move you?

how could i
have known?
about the secret.
the truth bubbling underneath
the thin surface
of this illusion
we were trying to create.
we trudge along in the meantime.
this shows us
that it is impossible to forget;
to live like we don't know.
being oblivious to the obvious.

the dark ocean

only late at night does the ocean seem frightening while during the day, my feet were itching to touch and feel its coldness against my skin. now am reducing to watching through glass. oblivious to the cars parked around us doing dirty deeds under the guise of the night's shelter of darkness. still it beckons. my ears strain to hear the crash of the waves against the sand, the rock. even if my skin can't get near its touch.

peace

the bliss
of being able to read in peace
even the sound of a kiss
can be heard even without
our lips touching...
the mention
of the impending
the joy looming

something

something happened today... something that has me all aflutter... feeling misplaced... something must have happened today... to have me feeling scattered... all over the place... head still but spinning at the same time... i am almost certain that something did happen today
something must have happened today
... am waiting for that phone call.. or that text message... that will confirm this uneasy feeling...
i want to sit down.. rest these weary bones... but something is keeping me awake...

smattering

is a small amount of something...

when situations whip your ass... gets one wondering
how much you know?
stuff...
life stuff...
grown-up stuff...

for some reason,
i dared to imagine
that i was 'educated' about stuff
only because
i used to have an answer for everything

turns out smart responses
aren't really good indicators of how much
i know

so now when asked,

if i know

i gesture hesitantly
'a smattering'....