Today

"Dishonesty is never an accident."

- Author Unknown

Today I decide to be happy. Because no matter how long love wills the heart to wait, Time awaits for no one. And although all is forgiven, my ears still await to listen, with an open mind and an open heart. So speak. Allow me to heal then forget, if only little by little, day by day.

Do speak. Because there is nothing else that I would want but to love you more with each breath I take.



wapi
29.09.2009
03.04

Your Liaison and Mine

So still, I lay lithe;
My ears have gone deaf
To the silence you abide with
And the whispers of your flesh.

Take all that I am
Only if you must,
With all your hunger
In every single thrust.

But try hard as I may,
Still I fail to see
The heart of your eyes
Amidst you ambiguity

Pray, speak of your love
Without the absence of a glance;
Must I still reach out far
For you to hold my hands?

Do not give me the head
Only of your loins
For my heart does not rest
On the lap of my groin!

Am I but a token,
A mere fool to enslave?
Punish me not for my lies
But for the ones you bade.

Neigh all of your curses
For what I know is true:
You are still tangled with her
As I am left with none of you.

Uncertain Intuition

"To a foolish heart, there seems to be a fine line between doubt and gut feel. But for whatever it is worth, is there any way to put uncertainties to rest?"

How many times have you wished you were right? In all the instances that chance took your side and aided your intuition, did victory taste as sweet as you expected it to be?

Ask not a foolish heart to turn its back on its guts. For a woman knows what she knows when she feels she has been scorned.

The signs are rubbish and the mind games are of no worth. When gut feel hits you hard in the head and threatens to tear the last broken pieces of your heart, all you would want is for you to be wrong. And wrong you must be to cherish the bitter from the sweet. Pray and beg then that you are proven wrong. For all the uncertainties have not gone, they were merely asleep afterall.

How many times have I wished I was right, you may ask? In all my conquests of mind, but surely not this time. Should chance take my side to aid my intuition, victory should no more than be another heartless defeat.

I have surrendered my freedom, myself, completely. So I pray and I beg that I be proven wrong. For all my uncertainties have not gone, they have merely slumbered afterall.

My Resignation

My tears have failed me,
My lips are sealed,
My mind is at a loss,
I have none to feel.

The night is passing
And the silence is shrill;
I am left sunken
As time stood still.

Forward, I looked on
To a day so bleak;
All spite has been served
To the Faultless and Weak.

Should breath be drawn
For another word of loath,
Let it cut like a knife
And sting us both.

For mine is the worth
Of a humbling thought:
I am a sinner whose love
You have always sought.

Fallen Angel

When patience fail you and reasons are of no excuse, how do you get back up on your feet after hitting the cold, hard pavement face down? The table is turned and the enemy you find is not the one whom you fought with. Instead, a war is waged between you and yourself.

There is a choice. A decision you could barely face, let alone make. Rooms are reserved not for mistakes but for pain. It revolves around not what is at stake but of what it is worth. Clarity fails your sight and numbness engulfs your ability to feel. All thoughts of being seem to have been lost. The next step is no longer of any consequence as you lie face down and completely stripped off of any certainty that of which you could even barely remember.

I speak of these not out of fury, but out of anguish. There lies my soul trampled with my heart in it. I chose nothing and in doing so still ended up making a choice. It was in choosing nothing. A decision I need not to face having my face slapped by the ground.

And lie still I did, still face down. A white flag hung in the air I breathe. I breathe. Alas, a truce between me and myself. My sight has no need of any clarity as the numbeness lifts its tight embrace. I savor the feel of the cold hard pavement. It was a mistake that pushed me to the ground and I began to drink all the pain. For everything that was at stake is worth everything to me.

Nothingness was only a mere excuse. The anguish has been forgotten and but one reason remains. I love.

Patience has not failed me afterall.

This is as good as it gets.

"I might be the only person on the face of the earth that knows you're the greatest woman on earth. I might be the only one who appreciates how amazing you are in every single thing that you do... I think most people miss that about you, and I watch them, wondering how they can watch you bring their food, and clear their tables and never get that they just met the greatest woman alive. And the fact that I get it makes me feel good, about me.

"You make me want to be a better man."

- Melvin Udall (Jack Nicholson), As Good As It Gets

I love you

Your mood swings drive me up the wall.
Your temperaments could put the tropical season to shame, leaving me baffled and speechless, to the point of feeling blank.
But it makes me feel, nonetheless; driving me to a consciousness of such sensitivity I never thought I could even grasp, let alone have and take to heart.

I love you

I see your anger at first glance but I witness the passion behind your gaze.
You turn your back at me and I begin to feel your sentiments behind your angst.
What little understanding I thought to be so great turns out to be just a blur against your need to be understood.
What little patience I thought to be a mile long, turns out to be a mere grain of sand against you unspoken plea.

I love you

You pick on my little flaws and make fun of my clumsiness, but always with your twinkling eyes.
You laugh at my silly remarks and never tire of bantering with me, but always with your dimpled smile.
You put my wit to shame and dismiss my mundane ramblings without the slightest regard, and yet it humbles me.

I love you

That unspeakable lack of interest -- you rarely speak of your past and your quiet and unassuming stance, seemingly unperturbed, never fails to intimidate me, putting a halt to all my questions.
That stubborn silence of yours detours my prying glare, making me feel like I know nothing about you.
But what little thing I may know about you surprisingly seems to be enough for me to accept you wholly.

I love you

You rarely hold my hand. But I haven't failed to notice that your arms are always open and waiting for me to cling onto.
You show no interest in letting the world know that I am yours and yet you haven't failed to make me feel safe and secured behind closed doors.

I love you

The way you prepare things for me;
The time you find to tidy everything around me;
The way you seem not to know or even care much with whatever is going on with me and yet keenly observe and remember my movements and words.

I love you

I thought I was already good enough, a better person for myself. But there are remarkable moments when you become the wall I slam into. And suddenly I realize I haven't really done much, that there is still more that I could do to make things better.

I love you

Little by little I grow up, wanting more and more to learn and become a better person.
Slowly I realize, reasons are not enough to love, and decisions are only a stone-throw away to make or break all that there is.
Time, rather, is of no consequence because the choices can afterall be so unforgiving.

I love you

Not just because you do
but because I do.

[Unsent]

"All I have is the rest of my life, but it is everything that I want to give you..."

Come up to meet you,

Tell you I'm sorry

You don't know how lovely you are

I had to find you,

Tell you I need you

And tell you I set you apart

Tell me your secrets,

And ask me your questions

Oh let's go back to the start

Running in circles,

Coming up tails

Heads on a silence apart

Nobody said it was easy

It's such a shame for us to part

Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be this hard

Oh take me back to the start

I was just guessing at numbers and figures

Pulling the puzzles apart

Questions of science, science and progress

Do not speak as loud as my heart

And tell me you love me,

Come back and hold me

Oh and I rush to the start

Running in circles,

Chasing tails

Coming back as we are

Nobody said it was easy

Oh it's such a shame for us to part

Nobody said it was easy

No one ever said it would be so hard

I'm going back to the start

Please take me back

I'm coming home to you

An understanding of a masked honesty.

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;

so many things seem filled with the intent

to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

Lose something everyday. Accept the fluster

of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:

places, and names, and where it was you meant

to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or

nest-to-last, of three beloved houses went.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.

I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture

I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident

the art of losing's not too hard to master

though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop

---------------------------------------------------------

Professor: Well what do you think?
Maggie: Good.
Professor: Unacceptable answer. What's the poem about?
Maggie: I don't know.
Professor: Yes, you do. What's it about?
Maggie: Losing?
Professor: What?
Maggie: Love?
Professor: Ah. And how about that? Is the love lost already? Is Bishop writing about it as a possibility, a probability? What?
Maggie: Well... in the beginning she's talking about... losing real things, like keys. And then she... she gets, like... she lost a continent.
Professor: She's getting grandiose.
Maggie: Yeah. And the way she says it is like... like it doesn't matter.
Professor: Ah. Her tone... would you call it detached?
Maggie: I think she wants to sound detached. You know, she wants to... sound... like it doesn't matter... 'cause she knows, deep down... how bad it's gonna feel to lose.
Professor: Lose what? Or whom? Is it a lover?
Maggie: No. It's a friend.

Currently listening to...

i'll light the sun and the darkness will turn into lightnow i see the world for the first time

charmed smiles

It’s that particular morning of one of those simple, uncomplicated beautiful mornings when you stumble upon that certain charmed life that you have always hoped for yourself since your fairytale years…

The bed has never been too comfy, the morning sunlight has never been any brighter, and the coffee has never been better. And you have never felt more radiant than today, the very moment you see him smile at you, kiss you on the tip of your nose and whispers, “good morning, I love you…”

Those quiet moments you spend in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, both smiling at each other and smiling to yourselves at the same time. And you start to wonder what exactly is on his mind, and you start thinking to yourself: “God, I love this man…” And while you’re head is slightly bent down as you’re busy slicing the bread, he tilts your chin with the tip of his finger, lightly kisses your lips and whispers yet again, “I love you.”

Now you know just what exactly is on his mind. And then again, it’s not as if there’s no other way of telling, huh? You just keep smiling quietly, to yourself and back at him. You knew, you know, and you’ve always known. And for once, you’re peaceful, calmed and serene. There is absolutely no doubt about it. And you’re sure that he knows of the exact same thing.