ten weeks

Hate mondays?
its not that, i guess...
something about "the first"
the anticipation,
the slight anguish,
the butterflies that never goes away,
something about the unknown,
its just a bit scary
that beginning

double edged sword

its both easy and hard at the same time
start from scratch, sort of...
should keep moving forward
and carry out things learned from yesterday.

not ready? heck.. start!

pop quiz. here you go
number papers 1 through 25
math problems, text chapter test!
fun stuff huh... wooh.
push yourself, finish quick, master fast!
review, read, study, memorize
done? better be done!
not yet, just a minute, or an hour.

tick.. tick... ten weeks just split
past and back up to the start
wait for the signal.
make sure to not trip.
it's not a marathon
just a lite,quick mile sprint.

make sure to not forget potassium,
in case them myos cramp up,
don't ever want an infarction!
for brain and face farts and butt burps,
leave the shelter of the classroom
and go out to the real world.

  ~mje Saturday, May 1, 2010 at 11:10pm

Playground 04.16

He's sorry again...
For forgetting his place
and for letting it play out this far.
There He goes again...
back in that corner
Staring at the lines
He should have always stayed in.

A boy whether truly naive
Wishing to just play..
testing out forbidden limits,
That imaginary best friend
His utmost necessity
being and knowing it's
Right where he needs it.

And his playmate's forgotten too
the rules when they play
Tuck her knees in below
to make the swing go
up up and away...
where her mind wants to stay
hoping to feel them butterflies
as she sway.

  ~mje Saturday, May 1, 2010 at 10:11pm

kimochi

You say “I love you”
I say “you too”
with a sad smile,
a pinch of pain,
dose of delight,
bit of bitterness,
a tad of anger,
dab of doubt…

this is what you do,
ever so consistently
without falter.
Stir me up so bad
to the point of surrender.

  ~mje Saturday, May 1, 2010 at 10:07pm

Conscious State

There is no firm ground
from which she can stand
nor lie on,
as like a cherry plum
bouncing away
in the rhythm
of an echoing drum.
anticipating the break and ruin
of that deathless thumping,
pounding ,
beneath her tender skin,
hope he hears
the nonchalant
muted fracture.

Do tell how to cease
the stagger and swagger.
in search of, if any
composed interlude.
he can never tell,
she endures through
way confounding nausea
reticent breathing drawn
in vacant chasm
of unsettling.

hiding behind filthy tresses.

  ~mje Tuesday, April 6, 2010 at 11:25pm

Kawalan

nawawala
ang mga salita
na gustong bigkasin
ng aking dila
anong magagawa
kung ika'y isinuka
niluwa nang bigla
galing sa bibig
na isinumpa
nakakatawa o nakakaawa
sadyang ligaw
na pagnanasa
pagnanais na di mawari
pinaikot ng inikot
hangat nawala
ang sarili

tanong ay diprensya
ng bigo sa sawi
binubuksang pilit
ng iisang susi
ang kaisipan at
damdaming puno
ng kinalawang na
sandosenang kandado,
nananatiling sarado
sa mga minatamis
mong salitang sinasambit
'di magawang maiulit
ang pagbukas
at pagwakas
ng ninanais na
makaranas
ng isang katotohanang
wagas.

  ~mje Saturday, April 3, 2010 at 7:19pm