sunlight like an orange
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Between the numbers, seasons fall. Sit down, listen, shut up, and don't lie.
Bow.
Summer children, we were.
And I write, without much purpose: 'Love'. Hardly comprehensive a topic. But for the length of that time, it is all I am able to write, and I didn't tap into my mind too deeply, therefore, I am left unburdened for the greater part of the day. 'Tis a sunny day, and the heat was unbearable, and I couldn't wait for school to end at its final mark. I think I fell asleep as one of the people started to sniff continuously, I couldn't really remember. But when I woke up, I am startled by this:
.
love is an abundance
of thoughtless feet
trying to touch
the sandbox of the ocean
that is coloured
by the rain of the sun.
.
A thought not fit for my mind. I am not yet the inconsistent word-player, nor have I attained super human abilities to put something like that together, in one poem. Sweat made tiny circular blots on the crumpled paper, as I looked groggily at the piece of parchment. I couldn't understand a word of it, and I looked around, everyone was up and about and doing something other than being bored (which is rightfully so, for I have complete and absolute ownership of such a habit then), and I remained stumped. Not that I really cared, but curiosity is such a bothersome tool, and my urges are but strings to my puppet hands. I write, and mind you, without much thought, as a 'creative' response:
‘hell hath no fury
for the dead,’ you wept,
‘look, love
it snows --
i.
strangers, we were
our lost nets crossed
over a butterfly. i caught
the swallowtail, you,
my heart
clumsily, we exchanged
names --
i, orpheus;
you?
Which was most probably something I memorized from another mythological book for my literature class. For reason of clarity, it's the first thing that came up to my mind, and really, I did not mean to be the root of a thousand people's suicidal attempts. But when I dozed off yet again into dreamy land, where I, a little boy, ran all over the world's greatest heights and reached for the skies, the sun even, I am startled yet again into consciousness when a steady thumping sound warned me with a sanction. Ah, I've been caught by our math teacher, and I fervently submit myself into successive apologies, and I could hear numerous laughter, the one I'm used to, and I feel a wary pair of eyes looking at me with great distaste, or rather, pity. Ah, I've embarrassed myself yet again.
During the 20 minutes I spent standing outside and bearing the summer heat, I sneaked out the little crumpled paper which caused me so goddamned much. I wished to throw it away, even burn it, if I could in school grounds, but curiosity bites back painfully, so I take a gander. It was the same thing, really, it was. I only noticed a faded writing skillfully squeezed into the remaining space:
You?
smiled at the sun again @ 9:39 PM,
3 Comments:
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At June 15, 2007 at 10:23 AM,
jose angeles. said...
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YIKEEEE ANG CUTE!!!
hayskul to? with galloping gonads (courtesy of d. remoto--this sounds wrong) and all?
andye, the gear-changing seatmate hath come back! (refer to the your retort post; mas nauna akong nagcomment doon eh) -
At June 16, 2007 at 1:24 AM,
sunkissedsmile said...
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'tis not cute, 'TIS EMO! HA, TAKE THAT BITCHES!!! MUWAHAHAHA I FEEL BLACK EMO BLOOD FLOWING THROUGH MY VEINS!!!
And two, you're effin gross. Gadamet. -
At June 16, 2007 at 2:45 AM,
thegreenone said...
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I like the poem....