Offshore Zone

In shallow waters, I tread barefoot:
I know there is a deep descent;
I fear for my self, I fear for my welfare—
I know not where it lies.
Despite the circumstances,
the waters never as they are,
I choose to tread barefoot.
Is there a deep descent?
I know not;
I fear for myself, I fear for my welfare.

Repurposed Romance

A chance meeting—swiftly you came

Tenderness in idleness,

happiness in brusqueness, I had

underestimated chance,

repurposed romance also.

Solemnity in mundanities

defies the postulation:

a romance is born in

yonder places, yonder times.

Fidelity in song was how we

rendered an interesting tale.

Italicised movements unnoticed

daunts the very heart of me;

and the reveries in between them,

you intensify sevenfold.

Seemingly courageous,

and hopelessly yearning,

to my surprise, we had reached

an understanding.

Retreating is no option when

delusions lie within my confines

and besides, within your confines,

your offer is (irresistible) Nirvana.

Stunted by the reverence of things

under the sun of well-rooted belief,

neither did I wish nor want; how

did you know that I miss you?

An ensemble of thoughts; from there,

you became my delight and I yours.

Strangers to Death

"Death does as death pleases"

He assertedy whiffs, eyes stiff looking forward
His humongous breath bids farewell and fades
With dread on his mind, he patiently waits
A hardworking father to a family of six,
Minus one last month, another today

It all occurred so fast –
A mini-series of unwanted episodes

                       Suspicion

He thought at first but with reluctance
Tomas is only addled, frustrated
He scrolls down only to reveal more
He discovers a confusion had wrought
In the fragile confines of Tomas

He nudges Tomas; the boy replied:
"Father, do not be dismayed;
it is for certain nothing of your doing."
This had him absolutely dismayed

"Tomas, I can see that you are mad
Mad at what, son? Kindly tell me,"
"Father, madness does not define
these recurring sentiments of mine
I pray that you will no more ask me"
He concurred, albeit not to his liking.

                            Tumult

In December he met the weary Tomas
Tomas had become thin and uncomely
It was never for Tomas to enjoy indelicacy
Especially when it comes to self-maintenance

The other three wondered at the drastic change
Tomas intently avoided their many questions
Tomas, however, can never neglect his father
"Tomas, have you eaten? Let me make you some stew"
"Father, I am grateful but I need no remedy"
"You need to eat, Tomas. Mama would not like this"

The eyes of Tomas lit up like a burning house—
Intensely rapid and growing in size
Tomas held eruptions in his mouth
He noticed, "Tomas, I am sorry"
With obvious fury, he makes a show
Of passive force: "You disgust me"

                          Ostentation

No word from Tomas – had him whiff often
Every cloud a cry for Tomas to come home
At work, he remains gaily moving about
At home, he remains deeply troubled

The pleasure of smoke on the body
Confounds the pain that is in regret
Overshadows the evils of self-pity
Extinguishes the flames of tears held back

In February at Mama's mausoleum
Are flowers and lit candles carefully placed
Although the rift stops him from cursing at heaven
He whispers his worries to his patient wife

"Tomas is addled, Tomas is distraught
It seems that Tomas does as Tomas pleases
Why had you left him without prior notice?
Tomas curses at me then at his siblings
Tomas curses at me with much relevance
Deprived of the arms of your love,
Tomas throws his rocks at the sky"
Without a reply but in much satisfaction
He breathes out a cloud and waves his goodbyes

                            Remedies

The porcelain ashtray has broken in two
Like the bubog thrown away this Monday
It is surely doomed for the trash bin
Does he need to acquire another?
Perhaps this event meant to say
He ought to with wanting break his habit

He had once vowed to sip no more
From the cheap poison that is cheap gin
"Promises are made to be broken"
He foolishly whispered to himself
"It is timely that I follow my beloved wife
to the heavenly grave at sixty-seven"
He foolishly whispered to himself
His whispers drowned the crackles

Sparks flew wildly in the kitchen
The crackling continued to oscillate
His eyes had widened like billiard balls
The crackling omitted a faint light
Eureka, there was light!
As quick as the alcohol had crept
Through his floors just last night
Was the prayer of a miserable father
Given with brusqueness a surefire answer

                           Yonder

"What now?" he asks her with unrest
"Let Tomas curse at heaven
Let Tomas sleep with twenty women
Let Tomas with haste drive into a river
Let Tomas overdose on whatever
Let Tomas squall at his bathroom mirror
Let Tomas before being shot himself
Shoot twelve fourteen twenty schoolchildren
Let Tomas finally sleep in peace at a hospital
Beside thirty-three grandchildren
Tomas does as Tomas pleases"
"In that case, Tomas will be with us soon"
"In any case, Tomas will be with us soon
Tomas does as Tomas pleases."

He assertedly whiffs, eyes stiff looking forward
His humongous breath bids farewell and fades
A hardworking father to a family of six,
Minus one last month, another today
Four more in separate four days

Lenses

Look at the past
With lens of the present

Look at the present
With lens of the future

Now look at the future
With lens of the past

Look again