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Entries in "Yamoj's Excretion"
1
Subtlety
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Published: Jul.27.2007 @ 5:27 pm | Last edited: Aug.01.2007 @ 6:13 am

Scarlet red is flowing
from the canvas
that you have drawn
Every stroke of brush
is a cut to my soul.

This is your work of art?
I am your masterpiece?
My wounds are deep
But who am I to weep?

I am but just a puppet
on an empty easel;
A pleasure to laugh at
to mock
to destroy.

I am a subtle display
of your wickedness
your cruelty
your evilness.

 

Princess Teodora
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Published: Jul.25.2007 @ 6:40 pm

Of love and life
I hear her sing a tune
Whilst, behind her, the wind blew
… daffodils in June.

The lakes bathed her
The thoroughbreds she rode
Running with hair undone
… in daylight so broad.

Picking up daisies
It is her right
Chasing the sun
… it is not her plight.

When one day I saw a hand
Reached down from the skies
It cradled her to sleep
… where dreams become dark lies.

For she who was once an angel
Now a Princess who bleeds
I thought angels can’t be hurt
… but why her son, her dear life, he now pleads.

As she now withers
The son prayed hymns
That fate won’t take her
… but her chances ran thin.

I have to follow her laughter
From the waves of the seas
Her breath I can smell
… swept from cloaked lilies.

I remember her now… vividly
Arms full of lavender
Looking through her eyes, she said,
“Run from fate and time, son…
… you have the world to wander.”

 


 

Why Do I Daydream of Unwritten Essays, Muted Songs and Blank Canvasses
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Published: Jul.04.2007 @ 6:54 pm

Chapter II: Do not regret this life because of me.

She spoke those strong words and I pushed them back just as hard. I was in my usual cold self when a hand grabbed my arms and it was pitch black when I heard her whisper those words; words that were alien to me in a long while. I couldn't see her face. Her fingers are frigid and small; almost as small as a child's. Her face was obscured by my blurred vision from sleeping the last 3 ½ weeks in that sanctuary of mine. How dare her disturb me like that, in my peaceful box filled of shards of broken glass and reeks of piss and vomit. My knees are wobbly and shaking but she just pulled me and ran like the devil was chasing us. She's crazy, I guess.

 

I dropped the blade! Fuck it! …the only link of my past to where I am in this God-forsaken place. I dropped on all force into the ice-cold floor. I searched blindly for my blade. I cannot lose it… I cannot lose my past… Without it, I will lose my future…

 

She pushed me outside into this blinding light and the scorching heat. I felt sharp grass grazing my entire body. She spat words I haven't heard of. It's like she's speaking in an entirely different language. I can feel her body close to mine. Her bare breasts pressing against my wounded back. I can feel the heat of her breath close to my lips; pressing hard; caressing my tongue. She spoke of promises that almost sound like lies. Lies came cheap, for her, I suppose. What with all her past ahead of her. Her past which stares at us with an evil smirk. Oh, how I wanted to wipe that devil-may-care smirk off his freaking face!

 

She thought I didn't know her. She just realized how mistaken she was. I goddamn knew.

 

I was laughing now. Payback is my bitch. She flirted with disaster, now disaster's gonna take her on a dinner date. She was taken aback by my sudden arrogance. She's talking of words I now understood.

 

Her words speak of truth. "I used to reach for you when I got lost along the way. I used to listen like you always had just the right thing to say. I used to lean on you like the only other choice was falling down. We used to breathe without a doubt. Look around you, it's empty and you're sad because you miss the love that we had."

 

I told you, lies came cheap for this lady. I couldn't believe even a single word. And every word she spoke that I couldn't believe, tears her flesh from her soft body. She started to sob. Still, I couldn't believe her when she said she loves me. For I couldn't believe there's such a thing called Love. I have never believed such thing exists anymore. Not from this heart, at least; not from this soul; not from this mind. She continued to break like a broken vase. With it, her soul escapes from the cracks of her body. It is my only way to hurt her and punish her for the hurt and punishment she inflicted me.

 

She was most fragile. Her hair so soft as the clouds. Her eyes reflect of naiveté. I witnessed the air flow out of those body parts. I just stood there, not knowing what to do. I could've pulled her body close to mine. I could've whispered her words that beam of beautiful promises of her favorite daisies; of spring time; of chasing thoroughbreds; of lying on tall grasses; of bathing in the rain; of holding hands and finally of sweet kisses. But I couldn't. If only I could give her the only missing part in her now lifeless body – a heart that loved… a heart that healed her from her banged-up past.

 

What can I say besides I am sorry? What can I wait besides tomorrow? What can I say to save her life?

 

I reached out for my pocket and took out my Heart I have been saving for the only woman I could love for the last time. I reached out for my sleeve for the Life I can only give to the woman I am willing to commit my entire lifetime. Finally, I went back into the nothingness of the empty box to pick up the only word I have long since forgotten; the one she spoke when she first grabbed my arms; the one word I pushed back as hard as I could muster; the one word I almost could not grasp.

 

I took them all outside into the field where she now laid, lifeless as a stone. I dare not to be not here whence she wakes up. For I don't wanna be alone again, I don't wanna be lifeless again, I don't wanna be broken to shreds again, I don't want her to leave me again, I don't want her lips taken away from mine.

 

For before I'll let her die, I have to die a million folds.
For she is the breath that makes me breathe.
For she is what my heart beats for.
For she is the only reason my life knows why…

 

Why Do I Daydream of Unwritten Essays, Muted Songs and Blank Canvasses
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Published: Jul.04.2007 @ 6:39 pm

Chapter 1: They don't like breathing but they do it anyway.

 

This box is empty. Alone in this crowded room. A room full of conflicting and sadistic emotions. And yet apathy is here. The irony. I needed to get out from this box, with its empty corners and lifeless walls. This box is all I have, though. My parallel world from what is outside. My only shelter from the cruel shouts and the hurtful  words that leave me out of breath and scarred. But come to think of it, I like this kind of pain. The kind of where you hear yourself whimper and agonize like a shell has been shot thru your throat. And yet, I am alive when I feel that kind of pain. I sing songs of hatred and cruelty when I feel hatred and cruelty. I hear myself singing them unconsciously perhaps 'cause I just see myself thumping to the rhythm and beats; to the music and lyrics.

 

I just sit here, anyway, waiting for the solstice moon to bathe me with her light. I sit tugging my knees, my chin wedged between 'em. My stomach is lurching with the smell of vomit in my mouth. It reeks of vomit and piss here, I reckon. If you have imagined what heaven would be, you might've not thought of this place, so far from this place. I can't even bare to call it hell.

 

Any minute now, someone's gonna peep into this box. I gotta hide myself from them. I don't want them to see me inside. They might force me to come out or worse, they might persuade me to. I'd rather be forced than persuaded. Because by then, I know I still have my beliefs and fears and principles perhaps than be persuaded by other people's beliefs and fears and principles. I don't wanna change for them. If I am going to change, I am going to change my mind not because of them but because of me.

 

I have been looking for my blade for sometime now, maybe weeks. That blade has been keeping me alive for as long as I am here inside this box, and now it's lost. See, that blade was given to me by a lovely lady when I was out there, with them, y'know?

Ah that lady! How could I forget her. She was the reason I died. She was the reason I am in this ol' empty box. That lady was insane. I used to like her. No, make that used to love her.  She was one hell of a lady, yes. Hahaha! So I killed her. I pushed that blade through her body a hundred times, maybe a thousand. She was smiling at me when I did that, so I knew she was liking it. As we both watched the life flow out of her body in the form of some scarlet red fluid and her once bright blue grey eyes went from colorless to blank in a matter of seconds, I knew then that I had died too. Yes, I killed her but I was the one who died. I stared at her lifeless rigid body like a mother looking at her newborn baby for the first time. I picked the blade and washed the scarlet red fluid that have come out of her body from the free-flowing water from faucet . I went out of her house and straight into this box. I have been here since. Oh, how could I forget her!

 

I hear someone. It's becoming nearer every second. Shouts of laughter and joy. Steps slowly picking up speed. He was running towards my empty box. Who was that? How dare He laugh out loud like that. Wait, it's not coming from the outside. I hear Him here with me, inside this empty box but me. What the fuck?! Am I growing insane? This is not a disillusionment.  Slowly fading, I close my eyes just to shut His laughter. I can understand the mockery in that laughter. I've heard that sort before. I closed my eyes tighter now. I recognize the sarcasm and the mockery in His laughter. See, I am not that dumb. They knew I wasn't dumb. They fuckin' knew and yet they treated me like maggots masticating on her carcass. That's why I am inside this empty box. A box so empty but me.

 

I slammed my ears shut. The laughters are gone by now. But I can hear people whispering. I heard one kid mention my name. I haven't heard my name before, but I knew that was my name he mentioned. They were talking about me. I opened my left eye and slipped my sight thru one of the many gashes from this box.  Perhaps it's already dark outside 'cause I can't see any light seething thru from the many gashes of this empty box. I am still in this fetal position when I first came here. Hugging close my knees to my body, my head crouched and my feet cold. I'm sweating but it's cold. I am numb from this chill effect of this fear. I haven't mentioned that fear before and I will tell you about it now.

This happened after I entered her room. I was holding something but I forgot what it's called. They are colorful things with like feathers and stuff about them. They smell of putrid perfume now that I realize it. But those were supposedly to be given only to your lady-love. Or so they say. Or I thought it was. But anyway… I forgot the reason why I was there in front of her door that day, forgive me for that, I seem to have lost a lot of memories since I was in this empty box. I pushed ajar the knob on that door and it creaked open. She was there seemingly waiting for me almost smiling as I walked past an ugly vase, I felt like I was taking forever to reach her. I can taste the air coming from her. It was putrid like the ones I was holding. It reeks all over. Finally I held her hand. My heart began to race, throbbing twice as hard and thrice as fast. I felt like it was going to explode out of my throat. She was murmuring, almost whispering something; words spilling like water from an overflowing basin. That's when I saw it. Fear. Her eyes speak of it, her tongue constantly mutter it and her hair swaying it. Fear. I have heard of people speak of His name before like gossip but I haven't knew Him till then; I haven't seen Him then. Boy, He was one ugly motherfucker, that Fear! He looked almost human; almost kinda like. . . Me.

 

You may have known by now what have happened next.

 

The Song of an April Night
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Published: May.24.2007 @ 5:21 pm

Whilst our laughter echoed
under the nightly cerulean skies
the least we can do is send our distant wishes
 over the winds of time, setting sail our dreams;
but for a certainty, back then
we loved so much, yet hated so much
yet, even then, we run like the wind,
trying to fulfill the fruitless effort
 of adding meaning to what is meaningless,
as the moon turned to scarlet hue
yesterday’s sorrow constantly nears
 desperate to forget its painful past.

April moon
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Published: May.24.2007 @ 5:19 pm

The night should’ve been kept in secrets
Only if I have not become…
The pauper with clandestine faith.
And as I solemnly watched the moon’s splendor
I began to realize how deafening the silence was…
My eternal dilemma with serenity
… have blinded my eyes to see
… the holy and blessed cruelty.

 

Now, the remaining rays of the powerful moon
Have glided from eternity on twilight skirts
… a face of strange haunting beauty
In ebony hair closely framed
… has had a pauper like me silently turned
… in a solstice April moon…

A Year of Faith's Perfection
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Published: May.12.2007 @ 1:45 pm

I hope 12 beers & Tylenol didn’t leave you with a nasty ecstasy hangover by the time past New Year’s Eve rave parties ended. It’s because its time to start thinking on how to start another year from the scratch & leave bad memories behind. Last year was a bust. Only government officials become richer these days & more egos are ravaged by the high-priced markets & low wages (kaya nga may American dream din ako…). Talk about ironic proportions. Of course some things still remain the same. Your dog remains lousy. The president maintains she’s still a genius (with a Messiahnic archetype… maka-Jung ba?), when her cabinet’s recent performances make her look as smart as a dumb & boring monologue (with that winsome smile na ala-Michael V.). And there’s grandma with her bag full of Metamucil & Imdur for her maintenance. But look on the bright side, in a year when geezer flicks were big at the box office, at least we were able to hold on to something to start another year from.

This New Year means a new you. I for myself will stick a “No bitchin’ around” sign on my forehead. Not if that I wanted to, but I just can’t think of a more appropriate resolution for this year that would make me more tamed & patient than a rodent in distress. If last year has taught us anything, it’s that having the power of money on your side allows you to rampage foreign lands, subjugate their people & impose your own code of morality with impunity… Alas to Nicole. The VFA. & Viva to a corporal who have eaten women’s flesh raw, yet got nothing to lose but gain the comforts of an embassy. And the Philippine government, only without the Constitution to hold you back. That’s why I said last year was a bad year because we shouldn’t put all the blame on a country where Britney fans (excluding the panties & Paris Hilton…) is bigger than the Moslems. Well, if you were too busy with your 3G cellphones or too busy holding your pompoms cheering for a Manny Pacquiao who gained all the wealth but denounced his son, you should now look yourself infront of the mirror so you could see the phrase “My fault!” written all over your face.

So Santa never showed up & even took your rainbow socks to the local glue factory… I mean to the tiangge. Wonder if he knew all along that Mother Theresa is the saint of giving & that you just realized that he is a fraud? Anyway, New Years bring new hope. Everything will be shiny & brand new (that includes your moccasins worth a fortune & your rebonded hair…). Improve yourself & learn some history for you to make some of your own. Inspire & surprise people. I don’t know how, maybe learn a new language or go figure out your guitar. Accept challenges. Better yet, challenge the world. Be anything but average.

Enough already of looking back memory lane ‘coz you’ll just gonna get some bad stiff neck. Let’s move on & prepare for another nostalgic melodrama to happen in 2007 (erase that of Jang Geum…). From the scandals & intrigues (lalo’t di naman ikaw si La Greta!), let’s hope that last year will constantly remind us that life is one big joke. Just when you think your life is over, the problem goes away & dies. And here you are, aching for more drama. Now we look at a full year ahead & try to make every moment count & as significant as possible – from reading your daily papers or munching on your Go donuts. Go crazy! Make your life happen. Dress up in horribly fancy put-together outfits, join unforgettable catfights over a love affair gone sour, whatever it is, just turn every moment into a big event.

What’s nice about new year is that you see it as resolution to your old self, you know, you discover yourself & have more knowledge about yourself without the distractions of alcohol & rock music. You must not put a room for regret in your heart. Stop living from the past & instead put your mind to the present. After all, joy will not exist without sadness & there would not be a concept of reward without sacrifice. This year will be filled with bittersweet moments to savor. You surely wouldn’t just grow up physically, but you’ll be more mature perhaps. You’ve learned things that caused your innocence to ebb away little by little. You should feel sad that there’s something very comforting about a kid. You can get away with anything. Now, you have to be accountable with your own actions (except that when you’re a damned schizo…) & you can’t blame it on a Martini or something. That sucks!

But don’t get carried away. You’re probably excited about 2007 that you colored your calendar with so much optimism. Just hope that the turn of event won’t be anti-climactic. Looking back is always great though. It reminds you of lessons learned. But it’s imperative to be constantly moving & not get stuck in the past. Life has lots of ways to make you stronger while augmenting your sense of humor. Just like when life hits you hard on the face. Remember what I told you about life being one big joke?

Then you start laughing….


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