find me inside this hodgepodge: a haibun

For some reasons, a year ending has never made me reflective. I always feel like my heart is sprinkled with pastel joy from December until the first few days of January. It is the time of rest, no, not really. It is the time of doing and travelling a lot, but not for salary, but… Continue reading find me inside this hodgepodge: a haibun

g o l d s m i t h ( a haibun )

Whenever I look back, I see the zigzag road of twists and turns, of ups and downs, my once proud heart has been through. I was a decorated student. My dad won't walk with me in graduation ceremonies without a medal. His standard has been my fire. To excel. To be the best. To aim… Continue reading g o l d s m i t h ( a haibun )

calendar leaves

One year ago I dived into another job, left the comfort of the four corners of a white room filled with the smell of fresh news and sweet scent of deadline sweats. With closed fists and shut eyes, I took a leap away from comfort to embrace the unknown new. Now here we go again.… Continue reading calendar leaves

m y c a r r i e r

Elevated eyes can see the throngs of the wheeled machines this morning. Like row of soldiers, though not marching nor moving under the 9 a.m. sun burning. Feet need not to tiptoe to see the jeepneys, cars, and buses, wearing the colors of the vibrant Philippines, yet tainted with the grey blanket of Manila's dust… Continue reading m y c a r r i e r

Fading Periods

No apologies, no regrets, not a single sorry, from the old mouth of the last man standing from the crew who ended the second world war. Japan started the conflict, that was how the US closed it— with two exploding periods. Periods that bent the knees of the Land of the Rising Sun. Periods that… Continue reading Fading Periods

my sun

My love affair with words and rhymes started when I was a kid. I used to win slogan making contests, I used to sing songs with rhyming lyrics. Then I came across William Wordsworth's "Daffodils"--- the first seed of poetry planted inside me. Though my writing heart like Wordsworth's cloud, wandered far and long. Aside… Continue reading my sun

W i n t e r G r e y

Dressed in winter grey, the fading evening slowly makes way for the still sleepy, Himalayan sun. Rising to kiss the sneaking peaks of Mt. Kanchenjunga and Mt. Kabru, the first morning rays gently open my eyelids to show the gem beside me. He wears a thick jacket, buried under our comforting, shared blanket. His arms… Continue reading W i n t e r G r e y

season singing

traversing the same route five times a week presents me a repeating view again and again and yes, again. the sight of houses, from well-made to thatched huts, occasionally interrupted by massive spaces filled with wild grasses or field of rice stalks, and once with a huge mall. the neighborhood will then be replaced with… Continue reading season singing

Fading Photograph

i stumbled upon my five-year-old smile pasted on a fading photograph. it was just me and my sister. she was crying. i was clapping. (mean me?). my small mouth was wide open, wide enough to show the three blank, toothless-gaps. while my sister, a year younger, was red in her wailing feat. looking at the once… Continue reading Fading Photograph

Fog of Fear

inside a cage filled with fog of fear, she stays alone trying to heal the scars of the past of all that is done, the ache of the present she cannot share with anyone, the uncertainty of the future coming with each rising sun. will i be able to stop looking back and leave the… Continue reading Fog of Fear