Exasperations

Fuck you reality!
A middle finger you deserve
For preserving my dreams
In their ghostly silhouette

Fuck you dreams!
Damnation you deserve
For failure to coalesce
Slumbered in peace and pieces

In A Parallel Universe

In there you took notice,
In there you smiled;
In there you said "Yes!"
In there you said "I do…"

If only astrophysicists and cosmologists would uncover,
The wormhole from here to that realm,
Chocolates, red roses, my love so tender,
Care and affection fit for my queen I’d offer:

In there you speak, still mesmerized I'd listen;
With your whims I’d laugh out loud;
While your hormones surge and your feelings become a blur,
Which makes a love quarrel with me so enticing and gratifying,
On such days I’d just lock you in my arms,
And plant a kiss on your forehead,
If your mouth wont shut I’d kiss your lips;
I’ll know when you feel the blues,
No words are needed I’m there with you;
When you no longer heed your tummy’s call,
I’d take its place and remind you to get nourishment,
So you wont faint and I’ll worry not;
When you’re exhausted in chasing your dreams,
That you feel the need to stop and shed a tear,
I’d be the ears that will hear your silent screams,
A shoulder and pillow soaked with your fears
For locked in a quantum entanglement, our hearts and minds entwined;

With me you need not wear a mask prolonged
Need not always be staunch and strong
'Cause it’s the lovely and intelligent lady behind that I love and long

And when I die and be reborn in cosmic karma
I hope I’d wake up to that new era -

Where I am taking care of you
A world where I love you as much as now I do
And there you will love me too...

Saving Grace Synonym

Bitches

Bitch she was
She is
And always will be
In as much as I’d like to say:

“Bitch she may be
But there is a bitch
Far better than she
And her name is spelled
K.A.R.M.A”

But I’d rather invoke her not
For wishing another’s misfortune
Is never my lot

But it was only then that I realized
Bitches themselves
Bitch each other around

Come my love

Come my love

Spread your love
That I may enter
And bask in its warmth

Come my love

Indulge
Don’t hold back
Make haste

Before you get to know me
Before I get to know you

Before I get to know me

American Hotdog

American hotdog she has got
It’s what the other ladies have not
Hotdogs of different races
Australian, Hungarian, Italian
Canadian, British, or German
But the most famous of them all
Is the certified all-American

Never mind that these hotdogs are
Freckled
Speckled
With large tomatoes in the face
And who the hell knows where else

Even the gramps
Who has trouble getting up
Let alone keeping it up
They are completely irrelevant:
The stench of death reeking in him
Nor that he is 4 decades her senior

Scorn her as much as you like
With much gusto until you relinquish life
I’m warning you though
You’ve been long dead before you make her cry
Whatever drug she took that made her numb
Anesthesia of hardships
Sedated in BS or whatnot
She’ll cling to her hotdog
Until he runs out of fortune
And that, she’ll tell you
Is a valid reason:

“I got an American hotdog
You dirt-poor dicks
Whatever says my kababayans
I don’t give a shit
Aint gonna toil anymore
Gonna buy me an I-Phone
Premium bags, and shoes
Bear the coffin-dodger’s child I will
Gotta be laid in bed of cotton
Gotta let him fuck me
Till he passes out and die
Gotta suck him hard
Till he bleeds dry
Fuck true love
What can you get out of which
If your stomach is empty
And you can’t buy all your impulses
So what if he smells putrefied
So long as I lay in bed of greens”

Thus she clings on
To his horrid face
So long as he gives her
A queen’s privileges

The Old Man And His AM Radio

One old man

When he is around

He’d sit by the porch

A cup of tea in his hand

In an idle afternoon

While the scorching sun

Retires after burning rice paddies

Mountains, dirt roads, and faces

At times it leaves torrential rain

That reminds us of its promise

It’s sure to be back in the morning

But what I remember oh so vividly

That while he sips his bitter tea

He’s all ears on the stereo

Not on music stations

But tuned in on A.M radio

I didn’t understand

His penchant for the agony of twiddling thumbs

With the occasional curses

Murmurs, smirks, and grunts

About politics in all its

Nobility, hypocrisy, and bullshitry

It was a mystery how he could bear

Listening to news

On what transpired from within and without

And listening to the host

And repetitive commercials

Peddling lies and whatnot

But he didn’t mind

Just looked far away

With the all-familiar grin

What he labelled as circus

Worked out fine for him

Almost three decades passed

No longer do I see him

In the rain nor setting sun

Nor his hot cup of bitter tea

That cools him down

But something remained

Which transcended him and his life

As I sit with headsets on

To the AM radio tuned

Murmuring

Grunting

More generous in my cursing