Writer I

July compilation of freestyle poems Someone in the limelight Even on your days off folks recognize you. The suburb is the extension of the theater in which you stand. You're off to the next station but eyes are still on you. One can neither wear a seamless dress nor a beam the whole while. the miracle you've hoped for You've gotten on its journey. The nine-to-five isn't the whole picture. Stations posts between people catching trains rushing before the current one departs There's that gap. I used to be scared of being stuck in it. In the middle of the crowd, there's still a space between our worlds. stuck on the phone until the last stop Passengers arrive and go. preoccupied either by their screens or by shifts head over the clouds second thoughts which led to regrets There's a letter card in one's pocket a foreword for those who stayed Picture cards Which is more mind-bugging new folks approaching or residents outgoing? I’d rather be in a long queue tha...

recollections written during the dusk Thunder Thunder snaps no longer frighten me yet lighting still does. the gust of the wind the constant sundown freeing the heaviness of the clouds inducing consolation soothing a wounded heart washing the roads I’ve been back and forth clearing the lanes to be revisited The heavy rain greeting the night with its pitter-patter after weeks of drought It felt like a song I’ve been yearning to listen to. Summer rain damped shoes foggy windows the splash from puddles brought by the inevitable yet early rains the sound from your radio The mud and plash no longer bum you up as long as you keep your umbrella steady; as long as you hold your chin up. You’re prized even during the days you’re still learning how to love. contagious laughter lending our ears for stories I couldn’t think of any better way to celebrate life. Change The place which used to be foreign to you has become a home. There are places and even people who used to be acquainted to you but a...

poems Loose to step up and to step away Be humane by letting them be. Be a friend to your mind by letting go of that hand. “I think I didn’t do well today.” The familiar voice which you heard was the persona of your prose. Since then, I have been running to the One who can handle a bruised heart. to step out for a respite to disremember but not tolerate Never hand over something delicate to those who keep dropping their fragile vases. Clouds Never disremember the lessons. Some of them used to be your people. still missing those late-night drives Slow days are saccharine after the tiring days. Some downpours are heavy. Some are light while others are early. the condition of the heart the infrequent rains You know it is going to pour out when you watch the clouds but the sunshine doesn’t guarantee  the absence of weight.  Sunsets Why do Sundays have the most picturesque sunsets? It is hard to catch the most vivid skies. That just proves that not every fetching memory can be capt...

new compilation of prose and freestyle poetry I normally try to compile or post the compilation of what I wrote monthly. In case you don't know, I already published one on my blog but because of certain situations, I felt the need to write while I process disappointments and reflect on them. The title of the compilation is like that because it was written during the time I started to learn to value vulnerability once again. It is also written during the reoccurring circumstances where I felt fragile. The pain won't got away every time we write or read something but it can be a reminder that moments when we feel disheartened can be occasions where we can create something worth sharing. Being inspired doesn't have to be exclusively for those who are "in love". It is for every human in every phase of life. The guest Words can be weaponizing. They either redo or undo the hurt. learning about mankind in the hardest way possible I’ve written clauses before weeks went by...

my collection of freestyle poems for January 2023 Transient Nothing’s permanent. Every emotion’s fleeting. Change has been a friend to solitude, to time, to me. If we get caught up, we will lose our chance to rest. The ordinary won’t explore the same thoroughfare so be acquainted with that usual tune, repeat the rhymes from your lyrics of choice capture the place where you show up where you watch the run of the mill panorama not excluding the overcast Boundary maker You don’t hand down every backstory even it is true. You keep some to yourself to protect peace. Like how we still allot time for ourselves, We guard our gap between people which we call boundaries. It becomes the most priced in every give and take situation. Our interlude Don’t forget you’re human too. Those are what I have been meaning to tell. In the middle of the mundane, We suppress some reactions. Like spaces between words, There is distance between folks. Every hustle has an interval. In the middle of transient remot...

No year is free from storms but it doesn't mean we should stop from creating. sharing five lessons from 2022 and five of the poems which I wrote previously Lesson 1. Expect to feel lonely while you walk the right trail. Poem Working title sixth day of the week but it doesn't feel like one That is fine. It is worthy to be a subject of my writing. The storage is almost full. Call me the happy one Do we have enough pages so we can start recording them? To whom can we address them? Do you still have space... In your heart? I'll keep all your flags for they're painted with green. It got a working title, a road under construction. I write every where That makes it easier to read and re-read. It doesn't get comfortable but it is the beautiful kind. Lesson 2. We can’t travel back in time but we can warn those who resemble our younger versions. Poem Song of the burden slow afternoon strolls meals whenever you are alone nights are for writing It isn't because I despise fo...

mini collection of freestyle poetry for November silence slow afternoon strolls meals whenever you are alone Nights are for writing. It isn't because I despise folks. I just delight in the silence of a healing heart. To those who can resonate with me know that we wait in solidary. waiting for that empty space to be filled with the songs of our burden through the hallway The traveler walks through the hallway. Heavy is the load. The city celebrates while the messenger cries. alone but full of light The world sets foot on the party’s location while the traveler stays up. awake until 12 exhausted but rejoicing dancing secretly and cheerfully in the presence of the heartbreak  which is slowly waning. The city revels while the traveler shines. walking with her chin up not a pretty reality Once a manipulator Now I’m on the receiving end. It is not a pretty reality. Hence, we don’t withdraw from drawing the subtle yet precious line. The song of the burden I hear it clearly In the middle o...