Musings on Oblivion

A thousand pieces of you
     f(ly) to the stars;
             (a) hopeless,
                   beautiful disaster.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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© Nocturnal Scribe, 2015

Thirteen reasons why
        why we broke up:

We were liars
        meant to be -
(a) never ending
        house of secrets;
        shadows in the silence.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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© Nocturnal Scribe, 2015

Musings on Absolution

One day,
       barefoot in fire,
       (the) Goddess of Vengeance
                learn(ed)
                forgiveness
                          (and) burn(ed)
                          (her) murder list.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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© Nocturnal Scribe, 2015

Musings on Pursuing Ambition

Lone wolf
         chasing tomorrow;
         where she went,
         I don't know.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2015

Musings on How You Affect My Tastebuds

You are the
chili
   chocolate
        ice
           cream
I tasted at Gelatissimo
three days ago:
sweet
   rich
      creamy
at first bite
(was it love at first sight?)

but
  surprisingly
      lethal
all the rest of the way
(i don't think I'll ever be okay.)

You packed a punch with a
tangle
   of
      flavors
(each one I savored.)

And knocked the breath
right
   out
      of
         me
(right. out. of. me.)

leaving me wishing
that I hadn't tasted it in
the
   first
      place
(but by then I was a lost case.)

and also wishing
that I could taste it
for
   the
      first
         time
all over again
(and again, and again.)

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on How You Affect My Breathing

You are the emergency inhaler
I keep with me at all times
to remind me that even though
my lungs suck at being lungs,
and even when the air fails me,
you are always, always there
to breathe life back into me.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on Moving On

Nine months ago
I was pregnant
with words
for you.
But
now
I realize
it was just
hot air all along
and our child is stillborn.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on a Certain Prissy Quidnunc

Tell everyone but her
because she is Echo
and I wouldn't want
everyone to know.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on How It Used to Be

Every time I
look at you I
see a shadow of
what once was.
                          and
Every time you
glance at me you
remember what
had once been us.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on a Dream

“Leave.”

Your tone, resentful;

      acrid on your tongue.

Your face, torn

      in between anger

      and anguish.

“Leave.”

Your breath, ragged.

Your lips, chapped;

      hungry, forceful petals

      sending butterfly rebels.

“Leave.”

Your hand around my wrist

     holding me in place.

Your eyes imploring,

     entreating me to stay.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on Things I Learned this Summer

Though the salty tides may rise and fall,
the beach will never run out of sand.
Though the weather can be insanely
bipolar, the sky is poetry.
Though you may find the view plain, keep in
mind that each landscape has a story
to tell. Give it a chance to tell you.
Though the stars look enchanting tonight,
attempting to count them without a
friend can be depressing and futile.
Though the path may not always be smooth,
walking barefoot is an adventure.
Though the flowers may wither and fade,
God never ceases to amaze me.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Waiting

With coffee orbs transfixed on the dimming
horizon, she listens to the sound of
the sea's laughter and the breeze's ballad.
Toes buried in sand, she sits Indian-style
and waits as her night hair flaps in night air.
She waits for the sound of footsteps on sand,
and the sound of her name on his soft lips.
She waits for him to sit next to her so
she can rest her head against his shoulder
and intertwine her cold fingers through his.
But her hands are empty and she's alone,
and no one knows that she is there, waiting.
So she idly lets sand run through her hand
and continues to wait for him to come.

-Nocturnal Scribe

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None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Shopping

"Juan Says Pits Ul"

Sa sulod sa usa ka bazaar sa Colon,
milantaw ko sa mga paninda nga naka-displi.
Paghimatngon nimu naku,
miduol ka samtang ga-tingsi.

"Unsa'y ato, mam?" Miingon ka naku.
"Aduna mi'y skene dzens nga ga-sel:
tulo kinyentos."

"Dili lang, miss. Naa pa'y dako niini?"
Nangutana ko nimu, samtang nitudlo sa usa ka sinina.

"Ah, mam, kinsa'y musuot?"

Naglagot ko.
Wa nimu gitubag ang ako'ng pangutana.

"Ang ig-agaw sa'kung iring." Mitubag ko,
ug ikaw natingala.

Wala ka katubag. Hala oy.

"Ako bitaw ang musuot." Nitug-an nalang ko sa tinuod
para dili ka ma-stress.  Ug usab nako'ng gipangutana:
"Aduna ba mo'y mas dako niini nga size?"

"Ah, mam! Kanang, kuan mam!
Juan says pits ul naman na siya, mam.
Suwayi lang ug sukod. Ma-igo ra lagi na nimu."

Nagbukal ako'ng dugo. Wa kaha siya nayabag?
Juan says pits ul? Kadako nga bakak!
Wala ba siya kakita naku nga
naga-barog sa iyang atubangan?
Wala ba siya kakita nga dili mi pariha ug lawas?

"Size Sexy man ko, miss." Miingon ko.

"Ha? Unsa, mam?" Naga-tingsi lang gihapon ka.

"Wala. Ayaw nalang, miss. Mura'g dili man ni mupaigo sa
ig-agaw sa'kung iring. Sa pikas nalang ko mangita."

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012