Hariraya

An Elegy to Future May When I gazed upon the looking glass I saw all things that will come to pass, Myself, I see you and you see me. I only hope you've no regrets Of who you were [I am] and what you are ----what I will be in years to come ---- I see the sun is setting for you: Eyes sparkle though cheeks droop, The head is crowned with gray tufts ----clouds in the sky on a rainy day ---- The mind is filled with mem'ries and noble thoughts, The heart is rolled and scratched, a ball of red wax Played infinitely by a child lost. Your candlestick fingers gnarled from work, I admire you, my dear woman-self, For no love's labour

It begins as it always does with me being in love filled with nebulous dreams and always wanting to rip out of whatever it is that is holding back, binding me. I dream of your candle fingers, smooth, slender and fair. Your waxen face that makes you look dead in photographs. No one is to blame, I say. "No-one is to blame", you say, "that No-one who said she'll love me for-ever and ever" Amen. I dream of your candle fingers holding, cradling me, caressing my face as we kiss to infinity. No better way to spend my life than kissing you for-ever. We will live this meaninglessness in a snow globe, undaunting, unchanged,

to me true love is when he can convince me to ride a roller coaster because I'm afraid of them, to ride them means that I can face my fears, made strong by him. real love is when he can make me eat green leafy vegetables because I don't and to eat them would mean that I might be changing for good; he'll teach me how to ride a bicycle, create belated childhood memories with me and catch me when I fall off the bike. I know for sure that it is meant to be, destiny, true love, real love and so much more when he isn't able to do any of the aforementioned but we Love each other anyway.

My dear your smile warms my heart your words are blood that runs through my veins giving me life your kisses light up my brain you, my love, make me alive I reach the highest heights when I am cradled in your arms. take you away and I am nothing but dead machinery.

It was never meant to happen, Jake Gatdula told himself as he stood there helplessly watching Francesca "Kikay" Ortiz and Paulo "Paula" Heredia fight and argue. They were at the quadrangle, their voices rose around the school grounds and a sizeable crowd of high school students were gathered around them. They spoke warily, some maliciously speculating what the fuss was about between those two who were arguing. Jake besides being helpless, was confused because Kikay and Paula's words were now nothing but distorted sounds with a few insults and accusations thrown here and there. All Jake wanted to know was what the love notes were for and why t

a missing memory the sun sets, the walls of the room are bathed in shadows. the sprawling branches of a tree, the tree outside my window, its leaves trembling in the wind, I watch them for a while. I look out of the window, I see the same thing, an old tree, its dead brown leaves trembling, they are falling off and behind them is the sunset, lovely pink and orange and indigo. something pretty happens while we are all dying.  

Bird in the Blue Dusk To my nephew, Magnus Amadeo A lone bird sits on The telephone wire, In the sad blue dusk, As we walk together, You resting in my arms. You were colicky that day, You always were, you know. And as if it were my calling, I took you into my arms and Walked you around the street All the men and women greet Us; they thought I was your mother. The wind blew gently and oh, It was lovely; I couldn't deny That it was a day in which Other days could count upon. Your eyes were limpid pools, stellar Almost magical in their innocence, Something I would want to keep in me. And you looked up to the sky, Raised y

Walking Like a Dream Silver moon, a somnambulist's song, I lie in bed but my spirit is away, Longing to be where you are. Yearning makes me miserable, For I yearn to make true what is false, And long to keep it within my breast When all is but ephemeral and fleeting. You look like a cracked messiah, But love - that damned demon love makes me See you as if you were walking like a dream. When you turn to look at me, I can only hope that it is with affection That you see me. When you turn to walk -- not away, I hold the hope that you will stay, Wait and see what comes our way. For the road that a lover takes Is not a road that

Richard looked at himself in front of the old mirror in his room. He was wearing his suit for the wedding. Not much could be done with his appearance if at all he should appear as himself, as Christina's groom. Himself, he thought about it for a while, what it really was and he decided that he had no idea about its meaning and whether it would change anything between him and Christina. It seemed that with all the fussing, his mother bothering over things that he did not care for, his father trailing behind his mother pretending to fuss over too- that more than being an honest ceremony, a wedding was one event where one had to exert the most e

The truth was that Christina and, her fiancé, Richard's courtship and subsequent relationship were not something that they deliberately willed to happen; it wasn't the hands of Fate or some other force of nature that brought them together. It was willed by their parents, who both ran lucrative businesses in the form of travel agencies and real estate and thought that a solid bond such as a wedding would mean more money for both families.  Richard, having his parents in mind, taught himself to like Christina, while Christina, having no other choice on the matter, went with the flow and learned to like Richard in turn. And fina