tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22424168012841306872011-04-21T20:22:52.444-07:00rastamokshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04591346887908851994noreply@blogger.comBlogger31100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242416801284130687.post-36980581218023689342008-11-03T02:24:00.000-08:002008-11-03T02:46:04.495-08:00Dumaguete - my dumaguete.<div>tempura-balot at the boulevard..</div><div>smell of sea water,sitting under an old acacia tree.</div><div>--sight of Silliman's portal gates.. </div><div>my sandy 'tsinelas'.</div><div>Dumaguete sun.</div><div>looking up to see sunlight through a majestic view of leaves - blissful tapestry.</div><div>walks, long walks and talks.</div><div>hayahay - music, regggae, laid back.</div><div>overlooking moonriver.</div><div>the Wednesday night fountain meetings with OGPA.</div><div>cold paint on my hands and legs.</div><div>newspaper beds on hallways, wee hours after painting sessions.</div><div>tubod days with monchichi and his lady computer..</div><div>faifenkruger.</div><div>my purple 'buslot' backpack - how i miss her.</div><div>my vibrating Mr. southpark keychain.</div><div>Rasta elmo keychain. </div><div>black-painted toes and fingernails.</div><div>afternoons to wee hours spending with Anne Rice.</div><div>purple-faction friends.</div><div>my kang-a friends.</div><div>guitars and jewel kilcher songs.</div><div>Wolfgang.</div><div>pancit canton weekends.</div><div>lazy saturday mornings.</div><div>Scooby's spaghetti with mayo.</div><div>waking up to tricycle traffic.</div><div>tuko.</div><div>sunrise at the airport runway.</div><div>puto maya and tsokolate at silliman beach. </div><div>library talks.</div><div>euphoric walks to the dorm.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>-- my nirvana.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2242416801284130687-3698058121802368934?l=rastamoks.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rastamokshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04591346887908851994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242416801284130687.post-67873616613749372412008-04-23T04:43:00.001-07:002008-04-23T04:52:19.484-07:00Let me fall...<br />My burnt dry thoughts,<br />Like leaves...<br />I am..<br />- Falling...<br /><br />Into my sole self of surrealism<br />It welcomes me once more...<br />Like flashes of kaleidiscopes of Life..<br />Ressurecting, - lethargic..<br /><br />Yet this deathbed awaits...<br />Leaving me dry<br />Sucked out of sweetness...<br /><br />There I see<br />My constellation wavers...<br />Here, I lay dead...<br />Death's cold hands<br />Numb upon me...<br /><br />Sighs of Lilith cold<br />I lay in this deathbed...<br />Of hot coals, dried thoughts...<br />- Dried soul..<br /><br />I pity you, soul...<br />So unfortunate...<br />..In this hellish abyss..<br />Stabbing, bleeding me dry..<br />- I can not be as I am...<br />Wanting, wishing<br />While I see my sole surrealistic world<br />I so longed for...<br />..outside...<br />'Neath trees and ocean's breath...<br />---yet, I pity you, soul...<br />Enslaved in a deathbed<br />Not even your own...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2242416801284130687-6787361661374937241?l=rastamoks.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rastamokshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04591346887908851994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2242416801284130687.post-17784111746368074632008-04-13T23:09:00.000-07:002008-04-13T23:43:16.671-07:00<span style="font-family:lucida grande;">"Let me fall...</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">My burnt dry thoughts, like leaves...</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I am falling...</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Into this deathbed not even my own </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Suffocating, wasting away into deay to rot</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Sucked out of sweetness.. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Maggots in wound, </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Yet not feeling</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Leaving me stabbed, bleeding dry,</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Numb -- to schizophrenic suicide.." </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">-- Looking over through stained glass windows into my sole surrealistic world then, I was basically sleepwalking through... And yet, I am here. Battles have been won. Seeking not for the gift - not what you have been given nor what you will receive. Seeking for the Giver Himself -- that is how raging battles are fought with, head on. The Giver is more than enough. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">"I gathered my burnt ashen thoughts,</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> Traded it into the Potter's hand</span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">...breathing again. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Saccharine, pleasant fragrance. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Flesh, where wounds were - undone. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Maggots - none found. </span><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Molded, firm, alive."</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2242416801284130687-1778411174636807463?l=rastamoks.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>rastamokshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04591346887908851994noreply@blogger.com1