small talk

i like gerunds. it's as if the action had become so continuous--past, present, future in an uninterrupted flow--it became fact. solid. tangible. something you could learn to depend on.

anyway, that light bulb just went off in my head. but i really don't have the energy to pursue the idea right now. might want to work on it later.

isn't this proof of just how lazy i am? see here, things are clear to me as of the moment. they may not be to you. do you see me trying to drum up enough energy to care?

why don't we try again later.

*****

that was it. that was the whole plan: go to the beach.

we knew which island and which beach we wanted to go to, and we knew (kind of) how to get there. the next phase of the plan would unravel once we had arrived.

we almost didn't. i got lost on my way to pick her up. then we almost got stuck in the middle of nowhere (miles away from any body of water). i had to borrow another bikini top. the list goes on.

and i have reason to believe a couple of weird photos might be going around the internet as i type.

but. the water was great--cold only if you've been under the sun too long; the weather perfect: sunglasses-flipflops-shorts-and- bottled-water perfect. the sunblock was sticky on our backs and the sand gritty on our tummies.

it was so great, so perfect, we almost missed the last ferry back.

*****

god-awful-radio-station jocks here often end their segment with little quotes, cliches, or worse, moral derived from one of aesop's fables. you know--"here's a little something to remember...[put quote here]."

i'm sure i've written stuff ending on a similar note. but i shudder to think at how i might've sounded. (i have nothing against the "and so, kids, the moral of the story is..." type of ending. i just hate the holier-than-thou tone.)

the minute i start to sound like that, do me a favor? slap me.

Forgetting is an erosion

Forgetting

The rain poured relentlessly.
It filtered through leaves,
soaked grass; it broke
twigs, washed away
flowers.

It turned hard-packed earth into
muddy puddles—where even
a reflection couldn’t form
for the incessant droplets
shattering its surface.

*****

I can be so stupid sometimes. And such a coward.

Once, I was dared to hunt the hunter, to find the words and write, to be a poet! At the same time, I was asked, "Who is crazy enough to dare a hunter?"

Through the buzz of fear around my heart, I forgot the question and could only hear these words: crazy, fool, naive. I forgot the question Who? and more importantly, I forgot the answer: It could be me. Yes, it could be me.

So I grabbed whatever excuse I could not to respond to the dare. The distance was already there; it was only a matter of time; it's too much of a risk. Ad infinitum. Forgetting after all is a form of erosion-- destruction through time. And all I could remember is how, when one waits long enough, time destroys everything. Everything: things, places, people. Memory.

So I wrote that poem above...

But. I write to remember. And it's true, time destroys everything. But perhaps, waiting and doing nothing kills it much, much faster, and leaves you with nothing, not even memory. So, I search, and search, for the words.

Yearning

Stationery on the table,
The pen clutched in hand—impatient, unsteady.
Crumpled attempts littered the floor.

Your eyes hurt from the glare of white sheet:
The pristine bed on the corner,
The blank page, the waiting envelope.

The postage stamp shows a a struggle:
A small boat in the middle of a storm.
Suddenly your head fills with images of

Unopened presents, fallen fruit,
Empty rooms and of letters unwritten, unread.
You search, and search, for the words.

essay

essay tr.v. (ĕ-sā') 1. To make an attempt at; try. 2. To subject to a test; try out. n. (ĕ-sā', ĕ'sā) 1. An attempt; endeavor. 2. A testing or trial of the value or nature of a thing. (ĕ'sā) 3. A short literary composition on a single subject, usually presenting the personal views of the author.

*****

Sometimes, there are words that stick to the roof of my mouth. When this occurs, I cannot help but try to dislodge and wrap them around my tongue, learning the textures and flavors of their different meanings. And since my attempts at learning these are often done by writing short literary expositions, essay has become one of my all-time favorite words.

Here's a current Top 5:

1. yearn. This word does not only mean to want, rather it also carries the meaning of a strong, deep desire, and a hint that the longed-for is perhaps difficult, if not impossible, to achieve.
   
2. erosion. Erosion is a natural process which generally means a wearing away caused by the elements--rain, sun, wind, etc. However, hold all these elements constant and another layer of meaning is revealed: destruction through time.
   
3. shatter. I love the detail of words. How sometimes there's just one perfect word to describe what just occured or that exact shade of meaning. Can you imagine how many synonyms are there for the word break? Shatter is specific to a sudden breaking into small pieces... Which in turn, gives it a connotation of being impossible to mend.
   
4. desperate. This word shares the same root as the word despair. Most of the time it is taken to mean reckless or dangerous; other times, it describes a last resort. Consider a desperate that arises from an unbearable situation or unbearable choices. A desperate not because of lack, but because the alternative is unthinkable.
   
5. attempt. Try something difficult, even if, sometimes, there's little hope of success. (It builds character, as Calvin's dad is fond of saying.)

*****

Just saying.