the sea

                                                                                                                  do you feel--
                                                                                                           the flowing wave
                                                                                                     the rushing of the sea-tides;
                                                                                               the soft oceans breeze
                                                                                         the smell of refreshing sea?

           did we actually realize
      that        
the sea incarnate emotions--
                                  love.
                                    hate. 
                                        anger. 
                                            weeps.
                   we've been missing the whole point of the ocean. 
                                         

this picture was taken at Telok Kemang, Kuantan, Malaysia, on Dec 7, 2011

D-2: 30 days poem game

Day 2- Who was the last person you texted? Write a five line poem to that person.

*comment your poem down there

D-1: 30 days poem game

rotten smell of nothingness i never did sense,
obscure thin lines i never did see,
bridge that was dying i never did care,
or the faded smile on your face i never did notice.

Day 1- Write a poem where each line starts with a letter from your first name (an acrostic). It can be about anything, but it should not be about you or your name.

*anyone can join the game

let's put the blame on gravitation

I was walking down the dusty road, dragging weight, kicking stones and dusts. Then they caught my right foot, I stumbled to the dirty ground, those dusts I once beneath my feet wandered around my face. I pushed myself up against the gravity pull, desperate grunts escaped my bleeding lips. The nasty taste of metal overwhelmed the buds on my tongue. The stinging steps were unbearable. I asked myself if I was going to fall again. That was the last before I was on the ground; crumbling and shattering into pieces, rotting under the peeks of moonlight.

What goes up, comes down.
(Let's put the blame on gravitation.)