Posts Tagged ‘Love’


Posted: August 12, 2008 in Love
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I hid myself with a cloak of obscurity;
Knowing that somehow ‘tis much safer;
When everything’s nothing but shadows;
Then a twinge will find itself a stranger.


I spent a stretch accompanied by solitary;
Believing that being is considered by bother;
Where dealings end up once cruelty blows;
Destiny will find itself smile a little frailer.


I thrived where I was unscathed by severity;
Feeling pompous like a soul made clever;
But ‘tis often convoyed by jesters’ guffaws;
Yet unpleased by a grit that ended paler.


I found a spur with fortune’s ambiguity;
Reflective ‘bout a heart’s plight that’s richer;
Through a gemstone that a moment slows;
Contentment turns shade a bit brighter.


I lost refuge with in a desolate sanctuary;
Realizing that life isn’t about being lesser;
Because when fate would sometimes shows;
Love always makes a soul strive for better.

An Ode to Trix!

Posted: April 2, 2008 in Love
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Sitting beside a lamppost, a half-finished Marlboro cigarette in my right hand, I could not stop thinking about the figure that I am now pretty convinced, was nothing but a part of a dream. When a magnificence of a presence gets to grace your whole persona, you could not help but think if fantasy had put a hold on your consciousness; if sanity is still in one piece and unbroken. Perhaps — and this would be the only quantifiable rationalization that one could think of — she was just part of an astonishing dream.”

Trix and her “winter wonder” work postOne day, I woke up next to a beyond-description of a woman. She has long curly hair, with strands of auburn that could have been caressed by the hands of a higher being. Her oval stunning face could have send Aphrodite into exile…her face was that of a goddess. Those spectacular eyes — breathtaking almond eyes — mirrors her very existence, which is nothing but grand and majestic. The lips that posit a radiance of joie de vivre has more life than a rosebud blooming to perfection. Her slender exquisite frame was infinite loveliness, a pure manifestation of the Supreme Being that created her.

If indeed there was such flawlessness, this woman, this angel is the epitome of it. Her royal and grandiose presence comes short of what her whole being is about —her benevolent countenance. She was splendid in every way one can think of; she was indeed the personification of perfection.

“Sitting beside a lamppost, a half-finished Marlboro cigarette in my right hand, I could not stop thinking why such excellence could be endowed to just one being. Mayhap this is just a flight of the imagination, a part of one’s fantasy, a dream. However, the more I think about it, the more I tend to realize that this could not be so. Even in dreams such faultlessness cannot possibly exist.

“For only the loveliest of faces can be seen by moonlight, when one sees half with the eye and half with the fancy; for only such rightness can be seen through love’s eyes. Is it a dream? Now I am convinced that ‘tis not because I never knew how to see perfection, how to worship… save now that I am truly in love.”