You have not known what you are.
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.

The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...


-Walt Whitman


3.5.10

echo














I am the dream

That chases the daylight

Lurking in the middle ground of thought

Behind the shadows I befriend

That becomes wrinkles

I hope to see down the drain

When I wash my face,

When I scratch the stain away—

Permanent and stubborn

Like the sweet taste of a lost memory



I am the noise

In the silence of the words I speak

When my lips part and tremble

When I sing a rowdy song

Rambling and babbling

Lies and truth interweaved into a prose

Entitled with the letters of my name

I always want forget

But never fail to remember.



I am a broken record

Skipping on the turn table of my world

Recycling, juggling blurry thoughts

That came and gone and back again

Accumulating like fine dust

And giving birth to an artform

For fools,

For the blind

And the faint-hearted.

Who would listen to such tomfoolery?



I am blank and white as a canvas

Bleeding flawed colors into life.

How you will paint me is up to you.

Give me wings, cut my head

Erase me, strip me naked.

I am my own art

But the hand with the brush isn’t mine.



Brush dipped in black paint

Moves across my skin like a dagger

And I vanish with every stroke

And revealed with the very last one—

A blotted image with two legs and two heads,

A heart and a gazillion cells

Converging to create a disembodied echo;

I scream and someone screams back—

It’s me but sometimes it’s someone else.




3 comments:

pusang kalye said...

ang lalim---diko nagets....ala. 1st comment pamandin ata to. hehe. kailangang basahin uli.

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RJ said...

Madalas talaga naging sunud-sunuran tayo sa taong minamahal natin at nagmamahal sa atin. Mahirap ngang totally, ay pilit nila tayong binabago, binubura ang tunay nating pagkatao- the reason why we struggle, kaya pilit na sumisigaw ang totoong tayo, sigaw na umaalingawngaw.

Pero sa tingin ko kapag may mga taong ganyan, hindi nila tayo totoong minamahal. Kasi di ba dapat kung mahal natin ang isang tao, mahalin natin kung sino sya, ang kanyang kabuuan. Kapag kasi pilit nating binabago ang ating minamahal para pumasa sa ating standard, selfishness ang tawag dito.

Hay naku... sana tama ang interpretation ko, Ron sa napakalalim mong poetry. Hahah! U