tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54394025137001551742023-11-15T08:11:27.370-08:00happywithanedgepixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.comBlogger47125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-50155760712477399812016-04-01T03:51:00.004-07:002016-04-01T03:51:28.963-07:00too closei cannot touch you<br />
even<br />
if<br />
you are just<br />
within my reach.<br />
<br />
can you fathom<br />
the self control<br />
i have to muster<br />
in your presence?<br />
<br />
you are my muse<br />
in 46 poems<br />
<br />
how can i not<br />
want you<br />
when<br />
you are so near<br />
<br />
but everyone<br />
is here<br />
and they<br />
might<br />
hear<br />
<br />
the beating of my heart.<br />
<br />
i try to silence<br />
it with words<br />
<br />
drowning this want<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-8104604772372281422015-02-25T08:51:00.002-08:002015-02-25T08:51:50.679-08:00understandingshould I have seen the sign?<br />
if I only bothered not to overlook<br />
beyond what I thought<br />
as plain sight<br />
the tears beneath the cackle<br />
the sadness between the laughter<br />
the agony within I should have<br />
recognize<br />
for it resides on me too<br />
why did you let them catch you?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-45772266180897677972014-01-30T06:56:00.003-08:002014-01-30T06:56:39.614-08:00facebookthere he is all grown up. no longer the boy with the easy smile that makes my heart skip. i am also not who i was used to be. no longer the girl in pigtails who wear my heart on my sleeves. we both have kids for Christ's sake. but i still like knowing about his life. i still read his blogs, status update, etc. and it is as i still know him now when i read about what we had for lunch, what he thought of the last movie he saw or book he read. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-57773759463631476372013-07-03T01:27:00.001-07:002013-07-03T01:27:24.907-07:00rantdo you remember me? really remember me? please tell me because sometimes i forget myself. sorry, if i seem to be a tool but i am a little lost and my problem is i am not sure if i want to be found. so pardon me, tell me do you know me? really, really know me? tell me, tell me. am i good? cause i seldom feel that way. or am i bad? do you like me if i am so.<br />
<br />
do i bend for you? will i do what you want me to? and if i do, will you bend for me too? cause i can go long with you if you tell me you want me to and if you swear you will go long with me too.<br />
<br /><div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-32883889372424904832013-07-03T01:14:00.000-07:002013-07-03T01:14:22.729-07:00alaalapara lang kahapon<br />
ilang taon na pala<br />
bakit mo pa binibisita<br />
ang nananahimik kong alaala<br />
<br />
nagbago na ang hugis ng ating mga kahapon<br />
<br />
paano ba kita makikilala<br />
gayong ibang iba ka na<br />
sa nakilala ko?<br />
<br />
paano mo ko makikilala<br />
gayong hindi na ako<br />
ang dating ako<br />
<br />
ngunit gayunpaman<br />
<br />
kilala pa din kita<br />
<br />
ang ngiti mo ay tumatama pa rin<br />
sa kaibuturan ko<br />
parang pana<br />
sapol ako palagi<br />
kahit ngayon<br />
makalipas ang maraming taon<br />
<br />
binabalikan ang alaala<br />
ng yong halik<br />
ang hulma ng iyong katawan.al<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-56206133280878992972012-01-01T00:21:00.001-08:002012-01-01T00:31:34.592-08:00new yearit's a bit cliche to do a resolution so i wont call this a resolution i will call this a plan or maybe a list of things i hope i get to do this year. isn't it amazing how i can be so hopeful this 2012 even if they say this year will be the end of the world?<div><br /></div><div>1. i should start writing more. i do not need to write a noble prize winner anyway. but i should get my thoughts on something. so i can find out how shallow i really am or stupid or bad in grammar.</div><div><br /></div><div>2. ok i need to fess up with my weight and do something about it. maybe get proper nutritional counselling and yes i know i need to exercise. just after the holidays ok? please.</div><div><br /></div><div>3. work on our finances. save up.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. treasure my health and the kids. start seriously taking vitamins. i had four or more severe bouts of flu last year. time to get better.</div><div><br /></div><div>5. pay serious attention to my work. i love working at tfdp. it combines both my desire to work for the people and all the luxury of a paid job. so i should do better at it. come on time... work on time... come on time!</div><div><br /></div><div>6. the sundays are for the kids... the sundays are for the kids.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-37859177126382395182011-04-15T03:34:00.000-07:002011-04-15T03:37:50.783-07:00enigmabeautiful boy<br />you smile and it fills the room <br />pleases the crowd<br />you walk and take a sit<br />as we watch<br />gulp and sulk<br /><br />don't speak please<br />don't ruin our illusions<br /><br />let us remain impressed<br />by your beauty<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-49726560113006103832011-02-25T16:50:00.000-08:002011-02-25T17:02:35.119-08:00reminiscing...once upon a time we were revolutionaries<br />or so we thought we are.<br />drunk in the high of the rhetorics<br />of all our heroes and comrades<br />failed and alive.<br />the lullaby of songs of uprisings<br />lull as to dream<br />changing the system<br />changing the world.<br /><br />now we are no longer revolutionaries<br />just trying to make our dent<br />drunk in the low of our everyday lives<br />of all our fallen heroes and comrades<br />failed and alive.<br />the lullabu of song of uprisings<br />we still sing<br />as we lull our children to dream<br />change the system kid<br />change the world.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-15568755463715900362009-09-28T20:21:00.000-07:002009-09-28T20:39:52.242-07:00Tonight i can write the saddest lines - Pablo NerudaTonight i can write the saddest lines.<br /><br />Write, for example. 'the night is shattered<br />and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'<br /><br />The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.<br /><br />Tonight i can write the saddest lines.<br />i loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.<br /><br />Through nights like this one i held her in my arms<br />i kissed her again and again under the endless sky.<br /><br />She loved me sometimes, and i loved her too.<br />how could one not have loved her great still eyes.<br /><br />Tonight i can write the saddes lines.<br />to think that i do not have her. to feel that i have lost her.<br /><br />to hear the immense night, still more immense without her<br />and the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.<br /><br />what does it matter that my love could not keep her.<br />the night is shattered and she is not with me.<br /><br />this is all. in the distance someone is singing. in the distance,<br />my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.<br /><br />my sight searches for her as though to go to her<br />my heart looks for her, and she is not with me.<br /><br />the same night whitening the same trees.<br />we, of that time, are no longer the same.<br /><br />i no longer love her, that's certain, but how i loved her.<br />my voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.<br /><br />another's. she will be another's. like my kisses before.<br />her voice. her bright body. her infinite eyes.<br /><br />i no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe i love her.<br />love is so short, forgetting is so long.<br /><br />because throught nights like this one i held her in my arms<br />my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.<br /><br />though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer<br />and these the last verses that i write for her.<br /><br />- nung pang isang araw ko gusto tumula kaso nasulat na ni pablo neruda ang lahat ng gusto kong sabihin ng mas maganda pa sa kakayahan kong sabihin ito. paano pa ba sasabihin ng mas maganda ang linya na "love is so short, forgetting is so long". kahit na gaano kaikli ang panahon ng pag-ibig, kahit gaano kakaunti ang panahon ng pinagsama, hindi naman nangangahulungan na madgiging madali ang paglimot. kainis.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-34062133007717651692009-02-19T02:59:00.000-08:002009-02-19T03:05:24.184-08:00one for my husbandhow can i forget how you betrayed me<br />when i see her face in your smile<br />how can i believe that you love me<br />when you uttered those words in her behalf.<br />how can i hold on t0 the years we've been together<br />when you've forgotten what they meant<br />when you went off with her<br /><br />how can a sorry be enough<br />but what else can be done<br /><br />when letting go is not an option<br />i would care to pursue.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-61163795307945741222009-01-05T18:27:00.000-08:002009-01-05T18:30:54.354-08:00state of my marriagei am a heart breaking each and everyday<br />to bits and pieces<br />no amount of glue can restore.<br /><br />i am a mind lost in the words<br />said and unsaid<br />trying to digest the lies you spoke.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-31799870154169222482008-10-20T18:59:00.000-07:002008-10-20T19:39:42.347-07:00part onengumiti ka at parang nabura ang 14 na taong dumaan mula ng una kong nasilayan ang iyong ngiti. freshman ako noon, naghihintay kay amy at grace dumating at may programa sa pop-eye.<br /><br />mula sa third floor, nasilayan ko ang iyong ngiti ng tinawag ka. ngumiti ka sa mga nagtitipon at sa mga tulad kong nag-uusyoso lang.<br /><br />"isang mapula at mapagpalayang pagbati sa inyong lahat" bati mo sa amin. at kahit alam kong ang pagbati na iyon ay para sa lahat ng naroroon ng panahon na iyon inari ko na akin yon. akin kasama ang ngiti mo.<br /><br />nagsalita ka tungkol sa pagtataas ng tuition sa ibang mga unibersidad. ang totoo pang ilang tao ka na nga na napakinggan ko tungkol sa bagay na ito. ang totoo nga dati, wala akong kapakipakialam dahil bakit nga ba ako makikialam e dito sa atin ni singkong duling di naman tumataas ang tuition fee. pagdatin sa iyo, sabihin na lang natin na gusto ko na ring makialam. Kaya ng magyaya ka na magsibaba na kami at sumama sa martsa nyo papuntang mendiola, karay karay ko si Amy at Grace pababa ng main.<br /><br />Dinala mo nga kami sa Mendiola. Ang haba ng lakad. Galit na galit si Grace kasi naka heels siya. Si Amy naman muntik hikain. Ang layo din naman kasi talaga lalo na sa aking allergic sa grueling exercises. di ko nga akalaing darating ang araw na sasama ako sa rally. ako pa? na naiinis sa trapik na dinudulot sa legarda papuntang quiapo dahil sa mga rally rally. hindi ko rin inambisyong magbilad sa kalye at magrisk magka-skin caner na may hawak hawak na mga plakard. masakit ata yon sa kilili! not to mention di ko binalak magsisigaw ng ibagsak.<br /><br />Pagdating ng mendiola, nagpaDG kayo sa kalsada. Syempre, sinadya ko na mapabilang kami sa grupo mo. Gusto na nina Grace umuwi pero di nila ako maiwan. kaya tatlo kaming kasama sa grupo mo at nung araw ding iyon, kaming tatlo ang bago mong mga recruit.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-21026902166488307732008-08-14T04:04:00.000-07:002008-08-14T04:11:23.887-07:00para sayohindi na ko umaawit<br />ng mga kanta<br />na para sayo<br /><br />di na rin<br />ako dumadaan<br />sa mga lugar<br />na maaring daanan mo<br /><br />ngunit bakit ko ba<br />paliitin<br />ang aking mundo?<br /><br />lalo na<br /><br />kung para lang sa'yo.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-48739546795431717982008-04-25T01:06:00.000-07:002008-04-25T01:20:24.243-07:00random thoughts on getting oldi realized i'm getting old. my skin is starting to show freckles and sun spots. if i would judge from my mom's skin and the laws of genetic, i am on my way to becoming a dalmatian.<br /><br />my skin is getting dry. i could write statements on my forearm with white mark scratches. the problem is i am not comfortable (i actually feel icky) with lotion.<br /><br /> everybody is getting obsessed with getting old. celebrities from tv are shooting up poison on their forehead to hide wrinkles.<br /><br />i saw my ex super dooper crush (the only guy i really had a crush that was not based in celebral capability but by the simple fact that he is cute. aga muhlach in bagets cute). he is getting old as well. in a michael j. fox sort of way. the crinks are showing around the eyes and it is sad since he used to have really cute eyes.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-50523693322323150642008-04-25T00:58:00.000-07:002008-08-14T03:58:35.385-07:00pixie dust junkiei've run out of supplies.<br />damn peter that horder.<br />thinking he is the only<br />one who deserves to fly.<br /><br />there is scarcity<br />in neverland<br />the grown-ups are taking over<br />run for cover.<br /><br />asswipe boy<br />you lost your marbles again.<br />rushing after fairies<br />and winding up in ships<br /><br />the pirates are awaiting<br />to steal your precious dreams.<br />can't i just go back to bed now<br />and wake up<br />from this sleep.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-10282231369651818482008-03-25T22:41:00.000-07:002008-03-25T22:44:29.823-07:00so i will not forget..."Many poets follow false paths,<br />but if the poet is with the people<br />to the bitter end,<br />like a conscience- <br /> then nothingcan possibly overthrow poetry."<br /><br />-Yevgeny Yevtushenko's Epistle for Neruda, 1973<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-14249417934840767582008-03-17T21:45:00.000-07:002008-03-17T21:50:54.248-07:00sa pagitan ng kahapon at ngayonmay mga bagay na kailan<br />lang<br />nangyari<br />para tawaging alaala.<br />katulad ng ngiti niya<br />pinukol<br />sa hangin<br />habang nagpaalam.<br />sino ang magsasabi<br />na ang ngiti<br />ay tapos na<br />kung akong tinampulan<br />ay nakalutang pa sa hangin<br />dahil sa kanyang ngiti?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-82619718646050941702007-09-06T02:25:00.000-07:002008-08-14T04:01:25.067-07:00why Zoe?Zoe is life in Greek<br />often used as mother of life<br />just like Eve.<br /><br />Zoe is a monster.<br />the little niece of Oscar<br />the Grouch.<br /><br />Zoe is a feminization<br />of Zooey, the sanest<br />of the Glass family<br />on JD Salinger's book.<br /><br />Zoe is the defunct channel<br />of the Jesus is Lord Fellowship<br />before their leader<br />decided he'd rather be president.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-67983082240888360042007-08-23T03:48:00.000-07:002007-08-24T03:36:47.244-07:00Horror Helperour maid is a major drama queen. every week she has another sob story. one after the other. it doesn't work on me though. i am not emphatic. actually i am extremely cynical.<br />but it does work on my mom. she has gone softer with age. i remember when she was younger, she wouldn't even lend her sister money for her niece's tuition. because as she said, it was my aunt's fault that she doesn't have money. she puts it this way "para kasing butiki, yumayakap sa dingding." somehow she make sense.<br />according to our maid her dad died yesterday. i don't know though. it's been the second death on her family since she has been with us. and she's been with us less that 2 months!<br />in between deaths, there were also unfortunate events a fight with a daughter in law, in which she unknowingly cursed the girl and her grandchild causing them not to be able to walk and having to go home to undo the curse then there was also her niece who she first said was a paragon of virtue with evil spawn for bosses that turns out to be the other way around.<br />Maybe she isn't really a drama queen after all. she is the spooky lady.<br />Her life is so morbid.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-74342288793927259182007-08-23T03:33:00.000-07:002007-08-23T03:47:43.448-07:00first entry....bought a new notebook, here is my first entry.<br /><br />- i am afraid of the blank sheet. tabula rasa phobia of some sort.<br />- for one thing i have a bad penmanship that ruin the cleanliness and prettiness of the page.<br />- i've read through my friends blogs on friendster. it's surprisinng to find who among them have depth.<br />- or maybe what i find as depth could only mean a lot of free time on their hands.<br />- or boring jobs with fast internet access.<br />- blogs are great. you can blab about anything nobody else really care about.<br />- i am writing all these inside the bus. obviously it isn't moving as you can see in my handwriting.<br />- the truth is i just bought this notebook and just want to know if the pen will glide on it.<br />- yes it does.<br />- i have given up on journals. am not the the type of person who can take responsibility in chronologically dissecting my everyday.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-18915655181895442762007-08-02T03:33:00.000-07:002007-08-02T03:40:49.771-07:00if i started believing youif i started believing you<br />then one day<br />i would think<br />that i was the devil<br />who tried to corrupt<br />your little mind.<br /><br />if i started believing you<br />then one day<br />i would realize<br />that i was the witch<br />who had bewitched<br />you to sin.<br /><br />you want to paint the picture<br />of the little boy lost.<br />you like to think<br />you were better than most<br /><br />if i started believing you<br />then one day<br />i would look back for sure<br />and see that you were the savior<br />that i was waiting for.<br /><br />but you were such a little lying creep<br />you try to blame me everything<br />even in your sleep.<br />you cannot take care of your little bitsy self<br />and now you blame me but<br />also ask for my help.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-45412141403069393502007-08-02T03:19:00.000-07:002007-08-02T03:31:37.181-07:00Disappointedi am a tad disappointed. finally, i saw your wife. not that it should be anything to me, but i really found it disappointing to find out, she's normal. Well, it's my fault. I have concluded in my head that you should have married someone<br />a) drop dead gorgeous<br />b) intellectual<br />c) artistic<br />d) or a combination of all of the above.<br />so don't be surprised that i am somehow shocked with her mediocrity. Ok... maybe she's great. maybe she is really a rocket scientist just have a tendency to smile stupidly in front of the camera. and i'm not doing women's lib a great favor berating another women but pardon me, women scorned tends to be judgmental. and maybe, just maybe, i still feel like a woman scorned.<br /><br />so what if it has been nine years and a couple or more relationships after. and you turning into mr. nice guy on me with picket fences and 1.5 children and dogs? well, maybe you have always been these things or what these things are like when they are in their 20's but... i thought...<br /><br />well, shit i think a lot. maybe that was the problem.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-41200349749114117142007-07-27T03:03:00.000-07:002007-07-27T03:09:06.847-07:00my little tabula rasalittle tabula rasa<br />baby in my belly<br />can you really hear me?<br />what do you think<br />in there<br />how's life in there<br /><br />my little tabula rasa<br />baby in my belly<br />do you ever worry<br />what do you in there<br />how is life in there?<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-79649269607102931092007-07-27T02:54:00.000-07:002007-07-27T03:02:13.648-07:00a bus lifebus rides alone<br />with just my thoughts<br />in the middle<br />of anonymous faces,<br />parade of cars<br />and billboards<br />passing through my window.<br /><br />This is my life.<br /><br />hours and hours<br />sitting with strangers<br />sometimes<br />with strange smells,<br />engaging with idle<br />talk<br />with senior citizens<br />like donkey<br />asking<br />"are we there yet?"<br /><br />this is my life.<br /><br />sitting still<br />as the bus<br />bounces from city to city<br />to the great suburbs<br />of my destiny<br />and young lover's<br />kissing in front of me<br />and i chagrin<br />on their stupidity<br />not knowing<br />tomorrow<br />they'd probably<br />be writing<br />bad poetry<br />about each other.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5439402513700155174.post-82698729710770903312007-07-27T02:32:00.000-07:002008-08-14T04:04:10.239-07:00choking on memorieshow your name<br />can command me<br />to choke on memories<br />of sundays<br />in bleachers<br />and long conversation<br />where i end up<br />remembering nothing.<br /><br />i am gone<br />again<br />like a 17 year old<br />on crazy short skirt<br />buying attention<br />by showing skin<br />and<br />amazing boys<br />with<br />my book learnt<br />basketball.<br /><br />your name<br />and i am lost<br />crazed<br />maimed<br />here on my chair<br />writing verses.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><embed width="150" height="800" src="http://sws.shelfari.com/shelfV.swf" wmode="transparent"FlashVars="UserName=sun_serrano&ShelfType=user&verE=s1.1&booksize=large&Alpha=0&BGColor=FFFFFF"></embed></div>pixiedustanonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05543564909497256339noreply@blogger.com0