roses are happier black.

thoughtprocesses.

Saturday, November 05, 2005

dancing the dreamless dream

here's something i wrote last october 17. i only found that manuscript of mine last night when i was fixing my jungle of a room. i really hope next term, i still have some idle time to write a poetic prose such as this one. when i wrote this one, i was highly influenced by e. e. cummings, whose work is marqueed at the first page, and one of my favorite professors, dr. cirilo bautista (i think he was nominated national artist... or i think he is already).

i hate the month of october because a lot of things had happened to me and to some other people. last november 1, when i read the tabloid horoscope, it said on gemini, my sun sign, that the day marks a new chaper of my life.

after reading the tabloid, i picked-up the match-box. being the arson that i am, i imagined myself burning each and every person that wounded me and hoped that my pain will also be burned away. i want to forget everything. if i'd be the kid again that i used to be, i'd surely forget all the persons involved in that incident. however, i can't do that. some of them are very special.

they say that for me to forget the past is to live in the present. that's impossible. without the past, it is impossible to for the present moment to happen and the future as well. to put things ina very radical light, it is impossible for one to stare at the mirror not recognizing his or herself because no matter what he or she does with his or herself, he or she can see the remnants of his or her past. it's very impossible to look into the mirror not recognizing yourself.

sorry if i got carried away. but anyway, here it is

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an angel flew into my dream. i was awake. i walked away and pounced into the most comfortable shadows of my coffer, my home. i never wanted him to follow but angels do fall.

i walked around him. each step, smaller and smaller circles around the creature, til i became invisible and found myself caressing the finest of all hairs.. the softest of all palest skins.. the deepest of all eyes... the sweetest of all lips... he touched me and sang the sweet scent flowers blooming on the birth of spring. the sound of his scent caressed my body into a dreamless slumber - a dream i never had in my dream.

my lusting love spun me smaller and smaller. i made myself one with the blossoms and dewdrops. i want to dance the wind hat lifts his tender wings as he glides through the oblivious sky. i am the sweet that made me covet my angel for myself... mine... forever.

my heart trembles for the day when my angel would fly back from where he came from. he'll wake me up in my deep slumber leaving me wandering in my endless dream... wondering when when i'll wake up... wondering if i'll ever wake up to smell my spring.

now he flies away from this dream i created. i have never seen him broken since the day he fell. my wounded hands hessitated to blemish the finest of all hairs.. the softest of all palest skins.. the deepest of all eyes... the sweetest of all lips... all my tears can do is follow the fading jewel in the oblivious sky as they fall on my hands reviving my wounds to weep again... silently, beautifully marked all the dreams he lulled me.

i don't know if the angel who once fell into my dream will ever come back. i will not wait for him anymore. i will always be here in the warmest shadow of my dream forever awake dancing his scent.

~~runaway~~