i kiss my baby goodnight
dark demons still in my sight
maybe my fears will take flight
maybe i’m still by your side

and along i go
sabotage my heart
just to save
a little bit of my soul
history repeats
call me coward
and your love
i don’t think i can keep

my baby opens her eyes
a letter from me she will find
in those words, i apologize
promised her, she’ll find another guy

who deserves all she is
sabotage my heart
cause i always leave
down below
pass the pits of my soul
i just wish
i had the strength to grow

i kiss my baby goodnight
my baby opens her eyes
dark demons still in my sight
but i’m still by your side




      my knuckles break skin

      pounding pounding pounding

      my knuckles break bones

      crunching crunching crunching

      the voices die down, just

      moaning moaning moaning

      she’s gasping for air

      I breathe in something thicker

      drip drip drip

      her blood from my knuckles

      satisfied and exhausted

      i exhale

      deeper deeper deeper

      i walk away

      leaving my anger 

      where she laid

      bleeding bleeding bleeding

rain and thunder


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the night sky felt heavy with moisture. it starts raining by the time i walked into my apartment.  it was nice and breezy and the sky was ablaze with lightning.  there was no sound, just lights.  it was beautiful. eventually the thunder caught up and sounded the sky.  that too, was beautiful.

across the other side of the world, she was scared.  i, still compelled to comfort.  it’s painful effort but she needs him. i’m not him but i play substitute teacher.  half-assed the assignments because i see better these days. i’m slowly getting out, easing out inch by inch. class dismissed and i hope she’s happy.  i’ll teach somewhere else, i’ll be someone else.

this rain, this stupid stupid rain. sigh. the weather keeps changing.

summer school


, , , , ,


you lie and steal and cheat
everything in me
you promise something big
then undelivery
tattooed heart on my sleeve
so you know just where it bleeds
they say experience can teach
like nuns, rulers and wooden seats
delinquent memories then flash
i never paid much attention in class
so i go back, go back to you
getting what i lacked, in summer school

oh it’s hot, so hot it burns
by why can’t i hear your words
decipher your smiles, your eyes and your lies
hoping somewhere that you’re missing me
but i always was bad in history
and passing was never my concern
so another lesson i will never learn

my heart stuck on the clock
that never moves
erase the boards, wipe the chalks
and i wish i knew
reading your book would be so hard
your eyes blink and the school bell rings
can’t comprehend when one ends
and the other begins
i fan my sweat with your pages
if truths break, can lies save us
oh baby, just like the kids back then
you can be so cruel
you’re having fun while i sit
alone in summer school

9 lives

[unfinished oldie from 10/20/2011]

you’re killing me with your secrets
and I don’t know why I keep this
carousel going round and round
please don’t pretend to help me out
when you’re doing this for you
you’re smile has become my noose

your truths sharp as a knife
and i’m using up my 9 lives
to hear your story, to hear excuses
oh these words they are so useless

i’m laying here
knowing you’re laying there
with company
if you only knew right here right now,
you’re numbing me



When I was a boy, I remember playing with this little toy where many tiny-colored penguins would climb these stairs.  When it reached the top it would slide down and then climbed up the stairs again.  It was fascinating to watch.  Events happened later in my life that brought me back to those penguins.  Climbing up so high, falling, and then doing the same motions over and over.  I’ve learned from many mistakes, made rules to make sure it doesn’t happen again.  Sometimes, you end up breaking your own rules.  I’m tired of climbing.  I’m tired of falling.  Eventually the battery runs out.

Broken Stars

watch them closely at night
as they pass us by
reaching out to our wishes
hidden behind our smiles
holding hands while we’re young
and slowly our fingers become undone
things aren’t as they seem
not as good as when we dream
silhouettes of greater years
using nets to get them here
“forever” is never ever
long as forever
what were we really hoping for?
we shouldn’t wish on broken stars
you mold your world out of clay
and when night didn’t turn to day
you pulled yourself away
there laying, i remained
when the stars shoot past my face
there laying, i prayed
things aren’t as they seem
not as good as when we dream
promises made in the night
easily broken in the light
“forever” is never ever
long as forever
laying here, feeling ever far
wasting wishes on broken stars

flickers of ghosts

i’m comfortable telling secrets that were never true

i’m constantly making you jealous of my fake truths

feel bad of my good so you can feel as bad as me
the basement deep down you will never see
it’s flooding and flooding and wet to my neck
oh make it possible and please just forget
swimming’s not swimming with no arms
and concrete on my feet keeps me just as warm
if regrets make me who i am then there are none
if this water consumes me, it’s from my own gun
my eyes are wet and i don’t know why
i let myself forget and believe my own lies
the sun burns deep through into my chest
let me burn burn until there’s nothing left
does salvation come to those who want it?
i can’t let go of ghosts, i’m still haunted
so save yourself, save yourself from me
sail away, sail away from me
don’t let me, let me hold you down
i deserve this, i deserve to drown
swallow up in my own memories

way of the zen


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Electric iron

Image via Wikipedia

When I was a little boy, I would run by my grandfather’s room in my aunt’s house and would stop and turn back to see what he was doing.  There, I saw him sitting on the floor with his legs bent smiling and his eyes closed.  I would see him often this way and I wondered what he was doing.  I learnt later he was meditating.

I never bothered to do much of it until I was older.  The thought of just sitting still was boring to me.  I’ve come to understand that it’s not stilling of the body as it is more of the mind and heart.  Now a days,  many of the things that I do have a “zen” to it.

Ironing my clothes is very relaxing to me. I didn’t realized until later that i’ve been meditating while I iron.  That’s why it’s become so relaxing. I’d lay the shirt on the ironing board and let the iron get hot.  Straighten the sleeve of the shirt and press the iron on it.  I hear and see the steam from the iron and I exhale.  These moments, my mind is clear.  As I iron out the wrinkles, I iron out my thoughts.  And repeat.

Running is also another one of my favorite meditation.  When I run there is nothing but the sound of my steps, my breathing and the beating of my heart.  I used to ignore the pain in my legs when i run and push through it.  I’ve learned to listen to my body and know when to push and when to yield.  Experience does bring wisdom. I breathe in and I breathe out.  I’ve learned to calm my mind and my heart and focus on everything and nothing.

The world stops when I close my eyes.