Watching people lives
written in lines
connected by invisible wires
distance blur
and all of a sudden
I am inside their heads
and their hearts
and knowing, bit by bit,
what's inside
their pretty painted heads
and rotten hearts.
And I'm sitting comfortably
wanting to run away.
©jln.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Monday, November 29, 2010
I order hot tea
and I get cold
frozen icy tea
not iced
but just hot tea
becoming cold,
really cold.
I thought I was
perfectly clear
I said the right words
and I paid the exact amount
up to the very
last cent.
And for my longings to be warm
and cozy and safe,
in return, I've got a glass
or piercing cold touching me
from head to toe.
©jln.
and I get cold
frozen icy tea
not iced
but just hot tea
becoming cold,
really cold.
I thought I was
perfectly clear
I said the right words
and I paid the exact amount
up to the very
last cent.
And for my longings to be warm
and cozy and safe,
in return, I've got a glass
or piercing cold touching me
from head to toe.
©jln.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Small talks over
milk chocolates on sale
and red scans over
a half blue, half white sticker.
A polite smile and
rehearsed words
greetings are exchanged --
one line of sincerity
turns it over
and becomes a rare
a very rare
moment of genuine
conversation
that lasts a minute
between two strangers
who have never met
and probably will
never meet again.
Yet both will remember
the face and smile.
Without names and
with sincerity, they will
remember.
©jln.
milk chocolates on sale
and red scans over
a half blue, half white sticker.
A polite smile and
rehearsed words
greetings are exchanged --
one line of sincerity
turns it over
and becomes a rare
a very rare
moment of genuine
conversation
that lasts a minute
between two strangers
who have never met
and probably will
never meet again.
Yet both will remember
the face and smile.
Without names and
with sincerity, they will
remember.
©jln.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Life is like a coffeehouse.
People come & go.
Some will place their order
wait patiently until
they get their drink
or maybe doughnuts
then go.
Some will place their order
and in the unfortunate sense
that satisfaction is not met
they will explode and
maybe shout hurtful obscenities
leaving you seething
and helpless
behind the counter, and you
wonder if what you did was
THAT wrong for them to hurt you
THAT way.
And then they will go.
Some will place their order
and talk you up, start a
conversation, smiling and
pleasant the whole time
asking how are you and if
you're busy, make small talk
eye contact and wish you
a very good day, the world
in it's right place.
And they, too, shall go.
Life is like a coffeehouse.
If they feel at home
inside a place full of strangers
unknown faces,
differing ways to their coffees,
burnt out, hung over,
studying for an exam...
almost definitely
they will come back.
©jln.
People come & go.
Some will place their order
wait patiently until
they get their drink
or maybe doughnuts
then go.
Some will place their order
and in the unfortunate sense
that satisfaction is not met
they will explode and
maybe shout hurtful obscenities
leaving you seething
and helpless
behind the counter, and you
wonder if what you did was
THAT wrong for them to hurt you
THAT way.
And then they will go.
Some will place their order
and talk you up, start a
conversation, smiling and
pleasant the whole time
asking how are you and if
you're busy, make small talk
eye contact and wish you
a very good day, the world
in it's right place.
And they, too, shall go.
Life is like a coffeehouse.
If they feel at home
inside a place full of strangers
unknown faces,
differing ways to their coffees,
burnt out, hung over,
studying for an exam...
almost definitely
they will come back.
©jln.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
You should've been here.
Still be here.
And laugh your laugh.
And smile your smile.
Successes
and failures.
Unexpected marriages
and breakups we knew were coming.
I moved away and
so did some. You wanted
to move away but
you cannot. You're
tied to the ground
and to that same person
you felt, you decided
not worth going on
and living.
To that same person
you thought was not worth
another shot,
and you gave yourself a shot
that bought yourself
a peaceful darkness
and to us,
a dark hole, still smoking
from that trigger
you pulled, aimed at
that mirror that showed
you a person you hated,
that they hated.
You failed to see,
that person we all,
we all, thought
was worth every
happiness in the world.
©jln.
Still be here.
And laugh your laugh.
And smile your smile.
Successes
and failures.
Unexpected marriages
and breakups we knew were coming.
I moved away and
so did some. You wanted
to move away but
you cannot. You're
tied to the ground
and to that same person
you felt, you decided
not worth going on
and living.
To that same person
you thought was not worth
another shot,
and you gave yourself a shot
that bought yourself
a peaceful darkness
and to us,
a dark hole, still smoking
from that trigger
you pulled, aimed at
that mirror that showed
you a person you hated,
that they hated.
You failed to see,
that person we all,
we all, thought
was worth every
happiness in the world.
©jln.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
People don't worry about me.
I could always handle
myself. Apparently.
I don't cry. I'm straightforward.
I give out realistic advice.
I'm focused. I know where to go.
And how to go there.
I have planned each step. And I
always give it my best
possible shot. Almost always,
I hit the target. I miss
and I recover. I have
a system that works. Feelings
in check. I have strings
and a box of moving pictures
and pages upon pages of sentences and phrases
that create a whole new world
where monsters and happy endings
come in different shapes and sizes
and people who hate eventually
love each other and verses written
about illicit affairs, falling out of windows
butt-naked, clueless spouses.
Apparently.
Everything you see
is just
...apparently.
©jln.
I could always handle
myself. Apparently.
I don't cry. I'm straightforward.
I give out realistic advice.
I'm focused. I know where to go.
And how to go there.
I have planned each step. And I
always give it my best
possible shot. Almost always,
I hit the target. I miss
and I recover. I have
a system that works. Feelings
in check. I have strings
and a box of moving pictures
and pages upon pages of sentences and phrases
that create a whole new world
where monsters and happy endings
come in different shapes and sizes
and people who hate eventually
love each other and verses written
about illicit affairs, falling out of windows
butt-naked, clueless spouses.
Apparently.
Everything you see
is just
...apparently.
©jln.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
It seems that when
bad things, sad things,
frustrating things
happen
my body knows how to react.
It knows, automatically
how to feel and see.
Being broken comes easy.
Yet, it appears that when
good things, remarkable things,
happy things
happen
my body is left frozen.
It is stationary - like it's in a
state of awe.
Just in a state of awe.
©jln.
bad things, sad things,
frustrating things
happen
my body knows how to react.
It knows, automatically
how to feel and see.
Being broken comes easy.
Yet, it appears that when
good things, remarkable things,
happy things
happen
my body is left frozen.
It is stationary - like it's in a
state of awe.
Just in a state of awe.
©jln.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Why is it that sometimes,
sometimes,
a look says more
than a lengthy conversation?
"More" meaning
a look will leave you
more things to think
about, it can carry
feelings so vague
so ambiguous
it tells more, so much more
than words so straightforward.
Sometimes,
sometimes I'll take a look
over words.
©jln.
sometimes,
a look says more
than a lengthy conversation?
"More" meaning
a look will leave you
more things to think
about, it can carry
feelings so vague
so ambiguous
it tells more, so much more
than words so straightforward.
Sometimes,
sometimes I'll take a look
over words.
©jln.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
This place where
vital conversation
-communication-
gets drowned by
booming soundwaves coming from
towering speakers -- they
envelop every moving body
gyrating towards one
another, attracting each
other's skin and energy.
And people, people
expect to find some meaningful
comfort
and connection
in this place.
It's ridiculous.
Because all they can find
is a superficial
comfort, a superficial
connection
that will be vaporized
when the sun hits the blinds.
©jln.
vital conversation
-communication-
gets drowned by
booming soundwaves coming from
towering speakers -- they
envelop every moving body
gyrating towards one
another, attracting each
other's skin and energy.
And people, people
expect to find some meaningful
comfort
and connection
in this place.
It's ridiculous.
Because all they can find
is a superficial
comfort, a superficial
connection
that will be vaporized
when the sun hits the blinds.
©jln.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
This is for you rogue529.
It's not that words are useless,
it's the manner that they are used
that is problematic.
Words are supposed
to make sense of
things and feelings
and thoughts.
Understanding should be
its fruit.
It's not the mouth,
not the tongue,
not the lips,
not the teeth.
What strip the words,
the language
of its utility
are
the head that thinks
what words to say
and
the heart that decides
how to say them.
jln.
It's not that words are useless,
it's the manner that they are used
that is problematic.
Words are supposed
to make sense of
things and feelings
and thoughts.
Understanding should be
its fruit.
It's not the mouth,
not the tongue,
not the lips,
not the teeth.
What strip the words,
the language
of its utility
are
the head that thinks
what words to say
and
the heart that decides
how to say them.
jln.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
It's not really unusual
when you feel alone and
no one is there
with you, not one body
around you. Isolated physically.
What really unusual
is when you feel alone and
you're surrounded by people
who love you, just a message
away. Yet you can't
talk. You're not even sure
if they would want
to listen. Isolated emotionally.
©jln.
when you feel alone and
no one is there
with you, not one body
around you. Isolated physically.
What really unusual
is when you feel alone and
you're surrounded by people
who love you, just a message
away. Yet you can't
talk. You're not even sure
if they would want
to listen. Isolated emotionally.
©jln.
Monday, November 15, 2010
I want to talk but
no words are coming out
of my mouth
my lips are open
but only tired breaths
and echoes of a
broken heart's monologue
come and take place
that no one can hear
not even I,
I who should already know
what to say
but even my words
though only echoes
even them, and they're all I have,
are broken.
©jln.
no words are coming out
of my mouth
my lips are open
but only tired breaths
and echoes of a
broken heart's monologue
come and take place
that no one can hear
not even I,
I who should already know
what to say
but even my words
though only echoes
even them, and they're all I have,
are broken.
©jln.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Saturday, November 13, 2010
What is out there?
Who is out there?
How is it out there?
Why is it out there?
The fog conceals all the answers -
so heavy I can feel it
weigh down my shoulders
and as I stand in the middle of it
the fear, ever existent.
The only question I can answer -
is
Where? Where is whatever is out there?
Everwhere. Surrounds me.
Anywhere. In between every possible space
where I think I can hide and cry.
©jln.
Who is out there?
How is it out there?
Why is it out there?
The fog conceals all the answers -
so heavy I can feel it
weigh down my shoulders
and as I stand in the middle of it
the fear, ever existent.
The only question I can answer -
is
Where? Where is whatever is out there?
Everwhere. Surrounds me.
Anywhere. In between every possible space
where I think I can hide and cry.
©jln.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
And he walked by
looking far far ahead
with nary a glance
to that face he used to smile at
to that face he used to talk with
to that face he used to compliment
saying words, words that inflate the heart
like a warm embrace and a tight hold
on the hand --
He just walked by
passed by, idly by.
Strange how much people forget.
Stranger how much people pretend to forget.
©jln.
looking far far ahead
with nary a glance
to that face he used to smile at
to that face he used to talk with
to that face he used to compliment
saying words, words that inflate the heart
like a warm embrace and a tight hold
on the hand --
He just walked by
passed by, idly by.
Strange how much people forget.
Stranger how much people pretend to forget.
©jln.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
The most painful phrases,
I think, are
"could have been"
"should have been"
"would have been"
-- They reek of regret
and painful sighs that shoot
down your spine to your soul
back to your heart - already broken -
trying to break it more.
-- They indicate dreams and
images of things than can now
only take place in your mind
happening only in your breath
disappears as your eye blinks
back whatever is before you
reality or whatever
and attempts to open you
to another world where
things happen as you think
it should, could, would.
©jln.
I think, are
"could have been"
"should have been"
"would have been"
-- They reek of regret
and painful sighs that shoot
down your spine to your soul
back to your heart - already broken -
trying to break it more.
-- They indicate dreams and
images of things than can now
only take place in your mind
happening only in your breath
disappears as your eye blinks
back whatever is before you
reality or whatever
and attempts to open you
to another world where
things happen as you think
it should, could, would.
©jln.
Monday, November 8, 2010
The only thing that separated us
was
a messy coffee counter
with random spills of milk,
a hand-drawn woman with a crown
smiling down at me, a stack
of brown holders that keep your
hands warm, strong aroma
of coffee beans brewing, a fence
of noise roaring from machines
of voices shouting out complex
combinations of milk and caffeine --
it was impossible for you, for me
for us to --
you looked over
and you smiled
asked me how was school and
I said I didn't go to that school
you mentioned
and you apologized and smiled and
said I, I, reminded you
someone you knew.
I smiled, and said
You're wrong.
You smiled, and said
I guess I am.
I smiled, you smiled
as you handed me the wrong coffee.
Of course you did.
©jln.
was
a messy coffee counter
with random spills of milk,
a hand-drawn woman with a crown
smiling down at me, a stack
of brown holders that keep your
hands warm, strong aroma
of coffee beans brewing, a fence
of noise roaring from machines
of voices shouting out complex
combinations of milk and caffeine --
it was impossible for you, for me
for us to --
you looked over
and you smiled
asked me how was school and
I said I didn't go to that school
you mentioned
and you apologized and smiled and
said I, I, reminded you
someone you knew.
I smiled, and said
You're wrong.
You smiled, and said
I guess I am.
I smiled, you smiled
as you handed me the wrong coffee.
Of course you did.
©jln.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Sorry,
I'm not able to answer your call.
Please,
Leave a message after the tone.
And you leave your message
while I,
I, perhaps, am
in the shower
or sitting on the john
in the kitchen
or washing the dishes
in the confines of my room
trying to avoid any contact
any contact that will reveal
I am breaking, breaking slowly
chipping away, melting
sitting in a corner, heart racing
not wanting, not reaching
hearing the voice leave a message
asking me to come and
be paid hourly
that life seems so far away
so far away, it's not really mine.
©jln.
I'm not able to answer your call.
Please,
Leave a message after the tone.
And you leave your message
while I,
I, perhaps, am
in the shower
or sitting on the john
in the kitchen
or washing the dishes
in the confines of my room
trying to avoid any contact
any contact that will reveal
I am breaking, breaking slowly
chipping away, melting
sitting in a corner, heart racing
not wanting, not reaching
hearing the voice leave a message
asking me to come and
be paid hourly
that life seems so far away
so far away, it's not really mine.
©jln.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
With every single
plan that didn't pan out
as you expected it to be,
there's another plan
that is panning out as we speak
and as you cry and agony seeps
and as you feel yourself breaking like glass
and as you kick and scream and no one hears
and as you shut down and tune out
there's something blossoming
at the corner
waiting for your look
and make you happier.
©jln.
plan that didn't pan out
as you expected it to be,
there's another plan
that is panning out as we speak
and as you cry and agony seeps
and as you feel yourself breaking like glass
and as you kick and scream and no one hears
and as you shut down and tune out
there's something blossoming
at the corner
waiting for your look
and make you happier.
©jln.
Friday, November 5, 2010
Author's Note
Dear readers,
When I first started this blog, I just wanted it to be an online record of the poems that I write down on my actual paper journal. Yes, I still do write stuff down on paper. I didn't realize that I was going to have a regular audience. I know I'm a nobody so getting an average of twenty hits a day is already making my heart swell like crazy. So, I just want to thank you all for reading what I have to write in metre. I get most of my readers from Canada, obviously. But it's really nice to see some regular viewers from the U.S., Portugal, U.K., and Singapore. So thank you! Since I really did not expect to get viewers, this shall be the first time that I'm going to say this: I want to know my audience! I want to know what you think! So drop me a comment or leave me an email at angelajATgmailDOTcom. I would like to hear from you. I don't bite. :)
I am writing this now because I believe I would miss posting a poem again later tonight as I have another busy Friday schedule: classes, choir practice, then work. Yes, I do write these poems everyday, usually at the end of my day.
Hoping to hear from you (yes even the friends I know in real life hahaha),
jln.
When I first started this blog, I just wanted it to be an online record of the poems that I write down on my actual paper journal. Yes, I still do write stuff down on paper. I didn't realize that I was going to have a regular audience. I know I'm a nobody so getting an average of twenty hits a day is already making my heart swell like crazy. So, I just want to thank you all for reading what I have to write in metre. I get most of my readers from Canada, obviously. But it's really nice to see some regular viewers from the U.S., Portugal, U.K., and Singapore. So thank you! Since I really did not expect to get viewers, this shall be the first time that I'm going to say this: I want to know my audience! I want to know what you think! So drop me a comment or leave me an email at angelajATgmailDOTcom. I would like to hear from you. I don't bite. :)
I am writing this now because I believe I would miss posting a poem again later tonight as I have another busy Friday schedule: classes, choir practice, then work. Yes, I do write these poems everyday, usually at the end of my day.
Hoping to hear from you (yes even the friends I know in real life hahaha),
jln.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
The idea that
there is a world of
moving creatures and contraptions
noises and whispers
below our feet
seeps the energy out of our legs
our cripple soap-washed legs
makes us feel weak
and vulnerable and dizzy.
Why?
If there's a world above us
we see it, we see it.
Birds flying, the atmosphere stretching
into a universe with no end.
It pushes us to explore
and to conquer
and to become better
and bigger.
But a world beneath elicits fear.
That with every step, we are glued to ground
That with every step, we might be snatched down
and get lost in the cracks.
©jln.
there is a world of
moving creatures and contraptions
noises and whispers
below our feet
seeps the energy out of our legs
our cripple soap-washed legs
makes us feel weak
and vulnerable and dizzy.
Why?
If there's a world above us
we see it, we see it.
Birds flying, the atmosphere stretching
into a universe with no end.
It pushes us to explore
and to conquer
and to become better
and bigger.
But a world beneath elicits fear.
That with every step, we are glued to ground
That with every step, we might be snatched down
and get lost in the cracks.
©jln.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
The man beyond the window
the man smoking
and puffing
with a felt hat slightly
tilted hiding his eyebrow
and casting a shadow
making his face
half dark, half light
half dead, half alive
and he stares at me
cutting through the glass
looking right at me
as he exhales gaseous nicotine
into the fall season's night air
and he's just looking
and looking
and waiting
for my move
but I can't --
his stare, froze me to the core.
©jln.
the man smoking
and puffing
with a felt hat slightly
tilted hiding his eyebrow
and casting a shadow
making his face
half dark, half light
half dead, half alive
and he stares at me
cutting through the glass
looking right at me
as he exhales gaseous nicotine
into the fall season's night air
and he's just looking
and looking
and waiting
for my move
but I can't --
his stare, froze me to the core.
©jln.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)