You must be it

you must be an angel, for you to guard over my slumber

slumber that dream of you as an angel, a winged one that got away

your wings are my trust, your wings are my faith

but you flew with them when slumber ends, reality sets in

you must be my future, i saw my dreams in your eyes

dreams that fall, as tears fall like rains from summer skies

so many mystery songs, a lot of lullabies,

but my dreams from your future are singing their goodbyes

you must be summer, but how could you bath me in the rain

when i dried in the sun, my blood falls dry too in pain

you must be foolish, you must be it to watch me and stay

for how much you took, i still stand, still and sane

tHE dREAMER

tHE dREAMER

he dreamt of perfection

from the garbage truth of reality

he dreamt of peace

from the chaotic thoughts around him

he dreamt of passion

from lust and betrayal of pretenders

but what fruits of blame should he ate

when hunger is for dreaming

i watched the dreamer, shields down, armor broken

eyes peered through oblivion, abyss-ed sunset

never seeing, never watching, which lies, what truth

eyes that mirrored the world i call mine

eyes i call mine

Bubble

My head is a cloud that anytime could pour down its rain

But my rain pours from my eyes, in joy, never in pain

My body is a bubble full of escaping smiles

But they escape silently in words of poems and styles

You turned me into something yet delicate to disappear

When you touch me i am nothing, I am nowhere

You turned me into a bubble of joys from you, i could fly

Now I am one who could smile then bid goodbye

07/29 12:30PM - can't feel relax on my way home to Toledo City

tHE sLEEPwALKER

tHE sLEEPwALKER

Trailing down a solid serpentine concrete,
he is picking up his strength from the sidewalk,
ending his day at a day's birth.
Could not tell now which is home and not;
which is black and night;
which is his dream and just a dream from
sleepwalking.

Just when

Just when . . .

. . . did Silence befriended travelling.
. . . did Solemnity sat beside my passenger seat
. . . did Loneliness knows how to drive silently
. . . did being alone tasted as sweet as the smell of cherries in my car
. . . did i feel isolated in a crowd of blank air
. . . did i learn to pick up my strength from the weakness of being wearily alone

Just when did I became numb as the sleeping road i ran over.
Just when . . .