A Pause

 I don’t know if you notice it, but you seem to be very fond of the “carcass” word. Is this a metaphor for death?

“Easily I think of eating carcass….what the hell it’s not the eating that makes its act a fault but only the wrong act of eating.”

I think the wrong way of eating carcass is eating it raw, “kinilaw” style, and then declaring it later on disgusting. Why eat then, in the first place, right? ^_^ Just a thought.

"wasted melted cream, in the corner an unoccupied jail room a man screming he's innocent and needs help had once lodged in, a ballroom, scene downstairs, the house help dancing, the kids watch the old dance, a sway of hair from the running girl, a jailed collector runs from himself, his niece ask him why he's lonely and he tells her he just is..."

 Like watching the re-eanctment of a crime scene…or rather the scenes leading to the crime. Are you the jailed collector? Is this poem a confessional?

"when u talk all the thoughts out while making clear the thing u think first isnt the right thing to talk about tonight but yet decided in the end to just share and tell it with us regardless oof us being the judge, being your mirror u never want in the first place to face, no better than self-hating infidels dragging you at all times without consent down here in hell, i, though, subtle, almost without a sound, just croon."

 Crooning. How cruelly indifferent.

"She isnt off about knowing the diggers of her chin and can't justify an avalanche after this. A castration is its only galvanized release. A beauty of oaks denies. Denials of an oval-shaped onion, sarcastic con-descend, divulsions of a pig, a shallow swallow, the testings of the masrk, which color would you want ur wish to be?It has determinants, too, you know, That by now, an arrangement is there. She doesnt have to be there on a noose. Her whole five foot six of gleaming and regal stance should."

 Denials of an oval-shaped onion? Divulsions of a pig? Shallow swallow? Sometimes I am just amazed at your sheer abstraction. Only a richardabad can pull this off.

"Creaks, You. Pain's an accumulation. And the release is in its continuance."

 “Pain's an accumulation. And the release is in its continuance." And yet you wrote above that “A castration is its only galvanized release” So which is which?

"the backing from the sentiment. THe return of the old. The cliche. The renewed unearthed. DOgs bark. Are you my sister?Is that a dog?Are we dead?Do you think he's cute?A cake is made of flour, sugar and cream. Mother bakes a cake. My name is jonathan is cinco. My wallet is lost. Help! Ouch!"

 I don’t know if you meant this to be funny, I just think it is. :D anyway, this reminds me of something Virginia Woolf wrote, using train-of-consciousness. Ang imo lang thought progression jumps unsteadily from one to another, without any continuity, which only leads me to think that they were right in saying that the greatest minds aren’t necessarily the sanest. ^_^


"I am a drowned word. That fleeting fleet of armed fatigue-stained sapiens for the last three days inside is watered away tonight. I am drowning rhapsody. THe fishnets, oh, the fishentes your dad untangles in going about the dark rivulets inside are a way to the darkened ocenas. I am a fringe of the silhouette of your giving, your givings tolerate my dance into the fringes of drowned escapes. I am an inch away to your measurement. Come now, take me and be my pilgrim..."

 Tell me if assuming ra kaayo ko, but I can sense bits and pieces of my “Reverie” in here. ^_^

"what to make of cottons if i flow out in air without sound remains vague. What you want me not to do makes me, sends them, and gives up into another form of no. Strangle india, thank not the way yopu give way to muslims but on how and not on why you made all the riot sound like home-0spun cloth."

 Wow, I like this one. Cottons and home-spun cloth….what a creative way to brand silence.


 I really enjoyed this piece. Is this your renovation then? more more more... ^_^

As they say, a writing, if it's assuming, isn't as clever as people might actually give it credit for. And this poem (the word still makes me kind of cringe) is dead-on no different.

But i must admit, i revel in surprising myself.

1. I didn't notice carcass got repeated that many times. But it's never meant to be a metaphor of something non-metaphorical.

2. The connection you gave for castration and endured pain is brilliant, as expected.

3. It's my sad attempt at comedy and the nostalgia of bad sentence construction. The Virginia Woolf theory is better, though. And greatest minds? Really. No, i mean, really?

4. It's so of your Reverie piece. I did that the moment I realized Reverie's unmistakably me. :-) Although your being the poet's pilgrim is never meant to be something intrusively Shakespeare-ish. Everything's friendly.

5. I feel you went out of your way writing your comment, which by the way is more interesting and reasonable to read than the piece itself, so pasalamat kog dako, considering gibalik pani nga message ug two, daghan intawn tarong nga mga worldly leisures sa world nga dili waste of time as this.

6. The renovation's actually the photos on the side and the new set of self-described films above. The words here are the usual attempt to aspire to being insanely creative kuno.

7. I like the home-spun cloth, too. Gikan na sa Ben Kingley's Gandhi ug Gandhi's guts in resisting.

8. Kulang lang gyud ko sa pansin.

yeah maybe i went out of my way a little bit. i had to read your piece three times over. slowly. that's how difficult to read your pieces are...makes me doubt your sanity sometimes haha..but that's what makes it interesting though.

waah so it was from reverie. what an honor. thanks..

yup. really. that's what they say, anyway. agree na lang.

i only wish i could update my place as frequently as you do yours. =)