October 29, 2008

But I'm Still Me

If love means losing myself
So I could blend into your soul
I'll willingly let go

If love means losing my soul
So I could blend
Into the air that you breathe
I'll willingly let go

and be alive in you
For eternity

*this much I'm crazy
*this much I'm mushy


I am back with a BANG!
BOM! (Beware of me!)
for I am a THORNY ROSE.

October 10, 2008

Elocution of Hearts

"We don't need words, Love."

When they are apart

they talk about

the birds and the bees

and everything under the sun

til dawn

but when they're together

all they share

is silence


broken onlyby his

occasional sing-song laughter,

her child-like giggles,

and the look of love in their eyes

With their hands entwined

with their lips joined in a passionate kiss

they don't need words

their eloquent hearts,

now wisened in time,

speak for themselves

October 6, 2008


With you there's freedom

The kind of freedom

that makes me sway

with the wind

in a sheer white gown

The kind of freedom

that makes me

dance with sheer bliss

with my hair cascading in the breeze

The kind of freedom

that sings my

little echoes of laughter

The kind of freedom

that takes me high, so high

til I'm as one with the air

til I become the air

The kind of freedom

that makes me

lose myself in you

October 3, 2008

3VO7, Effin' 3VO7

With her wounded heart numbing with pain, she asked...

Why sweetheart, what do we have?

"LOVE", he answered.

...and together they shared

the sweetest pain in the world...


Like wine...

and tears.

October 2, 2008

MARIAN LIGHT: The Emperor's....uh...School Paper

This is what WRITER's BLOCK looks like, garbed in pink.

MURPHY'S LAW at yah! --- Just when you needed to engorge gallons of creative juice the most, there the bar has decided to close shop, and the hot hot hot *yes, triple hot* bartenders raised up in arms to join the rally at Welcome Rotonda *whaaaaaaat?!. Haha, what a picture. That's what whack-en-wall does to me, baby..., yeah wakenwol!

Toni, behave!

Whew!, I can only squeeze out so much words lately, so much and I had to slice them up yet...*yeah, like sushi, dipped in wasabi*. o Tabemashoo. And now that I need tons of it (words, yo...not sushi!), it's eluding me...and St. Mary's College' corners are such serene places to hide that I gave up on the foolish notion that the School Paper adviser cannot hear my midnight-blue skirt squish as I pass by, on tiptoes...Hehe.

And I know I can only weave so much excuses to my Debate professor...Now I'm giving up - I've used up the last excuse on the list i.e., it happens sir, you know, have you ever felt that it just happens?

Prof: What happens?

Me: *sheepishly* Shit.

Shit happens... and it's haunting me now, bigtime. I have to summon up the energy to be, well, WELL. To be well. I have to face writer's block in the face and come up with sensible articles (yes, in plural form) for the school paper. This semester is starting to pack its bags and not an issue is out yet. Ugh! Pressure.

I'm going to HAVE TO battle with it tomorrow. I used up my share of procrastination already.

Good luck to me.

P.S. I didn't know I missed prose this much, I laid down a heap of crap *wicked grin* .

October 1, 2008

Basketful of Woes

Back bent down

heavy heart wallowing in pain

brow pulsating, sweating tears

eyes swollen, crying blood

she's picking up shattered pieces

of what was once her

Half of her says

"give up, you are beyond repair..."

But the stubborn half insists,

"keep going on, heal yourself up...

for when the time comes when you're whole again,

Go and make him whole".

Let There Be Blood!

….she caught a glimpse of her gnashing teeth

on the blade of her samurai sword..

The Bride Named Beatrix Kiddo

With an intricate beadwork

of vehemence on her train

and delicate appliques of

indignation on her headdress,

bodice (is) embroidered with

the finest thread of wrath

and yards of fabric of fury

for her petticoat,

she marches down the aisle

scattered with droplets of blood

on her way to the altar.

Wearing that acrimony gown

complemented with the

bouquet of thorns on her hand

the femme fatale

has never looked so ethereal.