boredoms & depressions

boredoms & depressions

File:Scarecrow. Drawing by Carus.jpg - Wikimedia Commons

Beyond the wall

sunlit slids

 on the floorboard

wind whistles

no, it moan

big trucks down diversion road on the way to somewhere

and birds gliding above it

those white in colours and grey sky

holding empty glass

of rum

waiting of dusk

waiting of dawn

cornfields has naked scarecrow dancing

another series of circus event

probably drunk for the next few hours

indifference

The world is tired

and

people

were messed up

everyday,

as we woke up

we saw,

men were killed

over broadlight

arresting them

and later on, 

breaking them

sometimes, I ask myself

why

the wind

are blowing

this way

there these people that butchers, and

they were all over

always, there’s nothing we can do

just biting our lips

but as you see, we also have our soul, flickers

smoldering, but roaring

surging

like fires at deeper dark nights

~ ( to G. Floyd )

sea gypsy

my
skin were
like a morning

rays,
that rose
from the sky,

almond–
shape eye,
dark as a dusk,

round ,
shape face
roaring dazzling lips,

grandma talked often
best she could –

don’t forget the
past, where
we –

sailed across the
orient sea –
waves

along seagulls,
the boat
and

our fading heritage,
make it
alive –

where we came,
where we goin.

painting from fine arts America.

What a shame

i sat at the corner
i didn’t care—
the whole class were thrilled
the professor or rather a doctor
stood in front holding her lousy book
with her lousy clothes
with her lousy hair
lousy smile and of course a
lousy make up
i remembered a middle age
woman
hosted a Tupperware party
in my aunt’s house

“what are you doing?” she said.
i was surprised. She used to have a lousy shrill
too. ” Mr Bruce , may I have your attention for one
hour or else you will be standing here in front for the whole semester.”
I sat straight and looked at her. She already grinning.  “Where is your module?”
she got me there. I thought. Why would I bring that lousy module she authored. It look like she teach a grade schooler with the yellow cover book for kids.
“I forgot Ms L.”, of course her name doesn’t start for L and of course I wouldn’t tell her it stand for a million lousy of her.
“you had half a dozen of books on your desk and you  hadn’t take mine with you.”
Keats
Dickinson
Crane
Twain
chrichton
Ludlum
” Foundation of Education. How much?” I said
and look already sideway toward the window.
” What did you say?”. She walked toward me.
Her cheek were red along with her eyes.
“How much?”
her face changed quickly to a friendly manner

” lets talk business after class.”

The whole class attention drifted sleepily as she talked for another 45 minutes. My mind was outside
somewhere at the
woodland
ocean
river
somewhere far
and the foundation of education module
I know she copy-paste at uncle google
and put her name BIG at it and bragged, “i authored
lots of school book on this campus. And I’m a doctor.”
my fellow classmates i know and
classmates i only know with their faces
with their mannerisms
with their yawn
and grunts
whom i walked alongside in the corridor
sat in the cafeteria
and did not bothering to say hi
hardly held the book at their hand
to avoid a crease
that’s the last time i seen the lousy professor
dropped my subject under her
soon she said dismiss.
i walked out without looking at her face
what a shame
i wont forget those lousy day
a
freshman in college
an aspiring deanslist for the next semester
got a failing grade from a lousy mentor
she passed a failing grade at the registrar big time
intent and in broadway
a stain on my curriculum vitae
okay
i decided to decorate it with lots of fail grades
drops
incomplete
etceteras
&
etceteras
college is much better
but i had to deal lots of people like her
people talk like her
people walk like her
people you taught
i think
i’ve seen Hitler
a Hitler
who took everything
anything
even a penny on your trouser
even a candy bar on your shirt pocket
even your passion and even your dream
people who butcher
people who can kill in an instant
not physical but in one way or another
it took me ten years to finish college
it took me ten lonely years
but had no regret
read the book than listen to lies
one step at a time
you see
how strong you face the monster
the world had created
perhaps
right at this moment
right at the chair
where i sat not long ago
perhaps
another skeptic,
like me would say
“what the craft…. Is this
an insurance policy seminar?”

slipping into darkness

We are on the upper deck
of the boat
traveling the black water
of Celebes
we talked about the latest rock band
Have you heard their songs?
O asked
Yes, I answered
observing the stars
solemnly
never seen this near before
It is Eraserhead, damn it’s cool
Yeah but I like Yano, I said
They wore black t-shirt,
and red Robertson shu
I like your shu, it’s reeed,
O said excitedly
Yeah, but I prefer blue,
I answered
How much is your shu?
I just don’t know,
I said
It’s red man. It’s red
We opened tanduay rum
Check this out K.
I don’t drink O.
Yo with red Robertson shu, Yo wore
black shirt,
a puma with a fierce blue eyes,
imprinted on it
ripped jeans
and you dunt drink
I reached the glass and took a shot
shit
It burns, I coughed
and we laughed
under the gleaming
trillion stars
Check this out K.
I don’t smoke O.
what the heck, yo had hairdo of the hippie
and yo dunt smoke
it is the 90s and Eraserhead sung
Huling El Bimbo, the last El Bimbo
in MTV Asia. Look like they got best alternative of the year. Said some kind of award
shit
it burrs
K, we have grass,
D took it on the park. Elmer stick. Have you seen him K.?
Never seen a stick man before
Then we laughed again
harder
red cigarette, drinking rum in the sea
not do the grass, damn that grass
then I looked at the black sky
touching it, I am still lonely
c’mon little bro, sing with me
O. had a guitar on his hand
we sung O Pare Ko ( hey brother)
Hey, K,
I heard yo do college.
O. asked,
lighted a cigarette
I do English course O.
OK noticed yo always reading
something K, why
I don’t know —
I thrown my gazed over the horizon
the cold wind
drifting over
The night is growing
deeper
and the boat slipping
into darkness

sandstorm in Manifa

I grab my thick jacket and place
it on my bed
anytime soon, you’ll experience your first winter
I mean, dry winter
Fernando said. The eagle on our group
of Filipino contract worker
in Saudi desert
sometimes, this storm took days
and when it done
cold crawl deep in your bone
your nose and ear will bleed
we stayed inside the cabin watching
BBC
lights switch off
in the middle of the day
with our bonnet on our head
I went outside to see what it looks like
my mouth open in amazement
hair dance wildly
sandstorm is—
an army of legions drifted slowly
in the
battlefield
sands against sands
gods against gods

stopped over in Colombo

Indian ocean breathing
and die
rolling endless

on the shore
monsoon
came
flooding
this early
their alleys
their temple
their gods
and goddesses
mostly, their Rama

shirtless kids
running
men sitting
beedi roll
on their lips

black birds
cawing
never sing
hundreds
thousands
hovers mid air
darkening
on grey ash
blackness
everything
making it felt lonely
and cold

Colombo is humble
quite
and I look at it
for the last time
from
airport bus
it rain again as our
plane has
lost in the cloud

when it rain

The wind had knocked the bell in the citadel
Blows cold and bird flutters, looking for haven
Dry leaves started to fell,
waltzes
The soil awaits, observing the sky
Cornfield bows, its tendril kisses
the hibernating moss in the ground
The rain came and almost everything
Had exclaimed, O it rain
Sometimes at late night, it knocked soft on our roof
As if a raven poke its beak on our window pane
We smiled and rolled to other side
The rain came and we wore our
Thick clothes,
from our closet,
a mug of freshly brewed coffee,
when it would be over, hope it won’t stop, and let it pour
Take the half finish novel
on the table, read as it beat
and hooves
and we just nothing to say
and listen
how we were so silent
Letting the rain to sneak around.

Painted Life

on a long hot
summer of the 90’s
facing the sea over Pacific
underneath the big ancient
canopy, stretch twigs to a
deathly pale finger
a kingfisher
spread its wing
down the burnt
exposed dead coral
the rumbling of the far crest of
white foamy gust
shutters, shooting upward
I am there sitting silently
in a protruding land pile
alone
all alone
wishing I had a cup of tea
on my palm while I enjoyed
the serene song of gail wind of May
that rhyme with the kettle
snoozing at the cold kitchen
but whoever he can stop the clock from ticking
nor hush the raven that visit
unexpectedly at night
life crawl even if you want
to stay a quite while
light were eyes bathe
from that youth filled dream
turned to
ashen memories
of cerebral macabre
like a rusty can that roll and roll
at the lips of the sea
not long ago
till now
like Trojan war
echoing immortality
the bird marred the carcass
of the skeleton
oozed on mud mimicry
the banshee shriek
screeching on the dark wood
skeetering like mouse
that lost in the hole
beside the unclosed old diary
now tell me
life is always all alone
I’m sure of it
you came in this world
and gone in the grave
all alone
a soft creaked
the door hinge ajar
the silhouette of a curious
man sat there
forever
envying the final
sigh of Van Gogh
hugging the one shot blast
that shocks the world
in awe

sadness on 9/11

……

Twin tower fire blazing in the cloud

as if a great punched had dented it

and the black smoke

unfurling, sail sidelong

over the disturbed sky

~

a Boeing had struck the glass wall

unmerciful

hijacker whom may flirted with the stewardess and

oogled on their long legs and behind

where she had to attend them politely

and muttered asshole,

on her way back to crew cubicle

~

I was pinned on my chair,

eyes grew big

whimpering, NOooooo..

banging the keyboard

pleading as

It raged down

along with a thousand confused soul

buried on rubbles and ruins

asking

why in the world, they were there;

supposed,

they were in their backyard

cutting some dead twigs of lemon tree, having vegetable salad

with parsley, cucumber and sirloin

steak, ice bucket beer

yellow fin sashimi

beside gelatinous green wasabi,

might had been caught by a

drunk fisherman wore straw hat

under the heat of noon tide

in the Pacific

whistling Debussy

all the way from the Southeast

in the third world,

~

supposed, a young man had hangover drinking liquor at the bar

chit chatting with friend from college

aiming for promotion and trying

to reach his dream, an

American dream. Not knowing, on that early of

September 11, known widely as

9/11 attacked would be his end

Supposed, a business tycoon who still undecided to drain his offshore

accounts

in different places in Gibraltar

Caribbean or Cape cod

looking forward for tequila,

relaxing on white sand

beaches in Bali or Boracay, perhaps

that somehow had a child

onboard

thinking his cat, that

may be sleeping soundly

on the couch

Who knows,

there is a lot of possibilities that they wouldn’t be there, and

yet they had to be there

and taking their part on greatest horror

of terror

in the history of the free world

Only just a moment, an iconic landmark,

a tower that magnanimous

standing

tall for democracy and freedom

deleted

as if it wasn’t there

only the blue sky and the bustling

wind moaning

somewhere in the far ocean.