For Renee - in interpretations of a way of life

You kept your world

in a minimum span

of your experiences.

Open.

To the point of beliefs

and the vast

acceptance of inexperience.

You've kept touch

out of people

who touches your life

and lies that corrode

from that multitude of thoughts.

You are a deep well

of archaeological soil

where the weather

creates sedimentary craft

over time and epochs

of your being.

You've kept your views

in a channel of perspective

that what you say

is not who you are.

You take life

as a stepping stone

- a battle with strategies.

A plot for life.

You plan,

take notes,

and yet let rivers

carry you to the every page

- to every journey

where you don't take part.

You are a budding soul

yet to encounter

Fate

in its own form.

04-December-2013

Untitled

I am lost

within transitions of everyday bearings

abruptly dismantled

from an ideal world,

breaking free from insignificant routines.

I've changed various perspectives

liberal mind, still a coward to changes.

I could not apply,

I have gained more than I could give.

I am still that curled figure

within the corner of the dark room.

My mind is cluttered

with fluctuating thoughts

and overflowing ideas.

Ideals with no physical soul

in trials to assuming an identity.

Yet deemed late in blossoms.

Lost within the swirls and tides

that chaotic feeling drowning

in a vast empty space.

These words petrified,

screaming with no meaning.

27-November-2013

Untitled

Leave it be,

the loneliness would soon

succumb back to its wallows.

Soon,

as long as I don't catch a glimpse

my life would revolve back

to where you don't exist.

I long for the days,

where I do not think

where I do not lie

I do not hide

I long for the days

when I could smile

just think of the end of the day

not, the end of my life.

You are the sunshine

My oxygen, my H₂O

I would break stop this photosynthetic cycle

Break free

and flee.

24-October-2013

Untitled

I'm scared to fall

scared that it's a dream

I'm a fool easy to please

blindfolded, smiling with ease.

Be careful with my heart

Be careful with your words

take heed when others say

She's innocent yet naive.

I'm scared to take part

Scared to commit

I didn't want to admit

because if you'd known

- you'd toy with my soul.

My red thread could be cut,

- tied at a post

could easily be mistaken

connected through your wrist.

I'm scared to part

scared to let go.

Did you aim to break hearts?

Fine, take mine

you win.

I wish I could not feel

I wish I could reel

I wish when you leave

You'd take the pain

from longing deep,

falling far.

Just take a lifetime of love

I'd rather live empty

and lose.

21-October-2013

Untitled

I kept thinking about

the things that gone past

along the busy rustle

of life moving on.

Changes that ignites on

fueled with desire

though I am rooted

my mind is growing

with anticipation and dreams.

I was thinking about

you and your

manly physique.

You were never smart

You were never

the good-looking guy

You were someone

easily deplored

You have no existence

You don't belong

And you lived in your own

set of paradise

with fucked-up ways

You were tender loving

sugar-coated lies

with a flesh.

I would be thinking

of a life without you

without me thinking,

yearning for the thrill

the impossible brings.

17-October-2013

Paper cut roses

Paper cut roses
scented with perfume.
Does not need sun for nurture.
Does not need air in continuum.
Propped in a vase in its solitude
It would not wither nor perish.
It would stand still and sway,
the wind in constant visitance.

Paper cut roses
attached through a wire.,
an admirable decoration
crafted with ingenuity
it could just stand still
no attention required
preserved through time.
Still, with solitude
even so, for a hundred years

Us. You and Me.
Represents that sole single rose.
Paper cut,
scented with cheap perfume.





26-11-2013

Vague ideas and realizations - escapism at its peak

Three days, two nights.
Backpacks and pocket money - fresh out of a hefty payday.
That spur of the moment decision to indulge in escapade,
in attempts to chill and relax,
forget and just breathe out of life and reality.
It worked,
like magic and that manic gleam.
Ice cream and that wishful thinking
- hope it wouldn't end.
We spent days
thinking how to spend the day,
where to go,
where to eat,
and how should we spread our wings
fly with our delusions
and throw away the utter sense
that we had some place to go back to.


We've had to talk of course.
Portion and snippets before we retire.
Life,
Love,
Dreams,
and that funny moment
when we've cried because of the past.
We've had realizations.
I've had a glimpse of somebody's...
I couldn't stop thinking about...
All the while,
I kept myself busy.
This is it,
the mother of my controversies.
Fantasies which wouldn't come true.
And the hobby that died
along with heartfelt innocent feelings.
I  knew,
once I come back,
things would never be the same again.


My mind kept dwelling
to scenes and flashbacks.
The night before,
the nights before,
days of caffeinated drinks.
Soft whispers and little talks.
What I've held,
what I've given up,
what I've opened up.
Things to do,
things that could've been.
A lot of lies,
cover ups and a whole bunch of tears.
Memories that carve itself
through the concrete walls of my soul.
I started to think,
I've been dwelling on,
staring at the mess
- personification of my views,
whereas I could've focused more.
Open the windows,
let the dust fly free
and pick up the broken pieces one at  time.
I started to face
the reality that I was scared.
The things that happened
were the changes I could not accept.
I couldn't digest.
And the problem that
I never bothered to stare at the face.
I realized,
I couldn't move on
if I don't bump my head
in that wall of inhibition.


We've travelled far,
my journey to a soul search
never really started.
Until,
it was ending.
It dawned on me.
When things began to come
out of my hand.
When the things that I've planned,
schemed even,
didn't go smoothly.
Stop.
It's ending.
It ended.
And I woke,
arriving exactly to the scene
I escaped from
- time stood still
awaiting my return.





Excerpt:  https://www.facebook.com/notes/joan-martinez/vague-ideas-and-realizations-escapism-at-its-peak/464928663548682
Dated 09-December-2012