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a love song for one

Posted by poeticnook on 11/30/2004 11:05:00 PM in
you always sit on the sand
to watch the endless dying sky
repaint the orange into purple
while humming a song for a falling star

i used to sing that song too
under broken beams of moonlight
inviting the wind to blow my way
wishing for a glimpse of that falling star

but that star never came down
and that song never played again
they left me sad, wishing for daylight
finding meanings for things that never last

if tomorrow still finds you
singing this sad love song for one
teach your tattered wings to fly again
dont wait for a star that will never come

12.01.2004.3.05.p.m.

0

in between dreaming

Posted by poeticnook on 11/22/2004 07:59:00 PM in
lately the dreams were late to come and wake me up from reality. i have been turning stones but none of them can tell me where i've left the *missing piece*. that only made me more lost. maybe there is no such piece, maybe i have it with me but i just dont know it. maybe i had it once and i broke it mindlessly because i didnt know its value then. maybe maybe maybe. uncertainty is the only sure thing in my life right now.

it has been three months of silence. three months of spilling more words and letters somewhere else. everywhere else but here. my star has chosen to fade away and blink back the rest of the world one last time. i had to bury it under the sands where i first saw it. i dont know if it has a soul, but if it does, may its soul rest in peace.

last night i went home and looked into a mirror that reflected the rest of the world except me. i tried to find the spaces where i could fit but nothing stays in place these days anymore, and it is futile to hold on to something that has wings strong enough to carry itself away from me.

tonight the sunset threatens once more to make me think too much. i will not let it win this time.

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11 minutes

Posted by poeticnook on 11/22/2004 03:01:00 AM in

i finished reading this book in one wekend, in between naps and bites of peanut broas. i had to finish it, not just because i was borrowing it from a friend and that friend wanted it back asap, and the fact that i had nothing better to do, but also because it was a hard to put down book. ever since the last coelho book i read: *veronika decides to die*, i think paulo has been wanting to tackle sex on his own terms.

my friend di liked this book very much and found so many wonderful insights from it. zet and ri also recommended that i finish reading this book and give my comment on it.. i dont know if its the too much hype or the overzealous encouragement of my friends, but this story actually disappointed me.. maybe ive read too much coelho..

i liked *by the river piedra* better..


title: eleven minutes
author: paulo coelho

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the purple sky (a pantoum)

Posted by poeticnook on 11/04/2004 12:28:00 AM in
this puddle of rain at my feet never dries
as my poetry waits for the day to get louder
while the cold sheet feels my wrinkled lies
i carry these brown patches inside my head

as my poetry waits for the day to get louder
these glowing stars choose to take your side
i carry these brown patches inside my head
letting the broken frame of skies turn pink

these glowing stars choose to take your side
when you painted your room with blinding twilight
letting the broken frame of skies turn pink
like the fast and tragic movement of the clocks

when you painted your room with blinding twilight
i drove away with the sleepy morning sparrow
like the fast and tragic movement of the clocks
where dreams lie in dusty guitar case latches

i drove away with the sleepy morning sparrow
looking for youth walking up and down old streets
where dreams lie in dusty guitar case latches
and empty shapes of crowded lives we've lived

looking for youth walking up and down old streets
i found scattered faithless angels instead
and empty shapes of crowded lives we've lived
locked in a jar of love and other gray things

i found scattered faithless angels instead,
while the cold sheet feels my wrinkled lies
locked in a jar of love and other gray things
this puddle of rain at my feet never dries

11.04.2004.4.28.p.m.

0

charade

Posted by poeticnook on 11/01/2004 10:16:00 PM in
we used to play this waltz
but only in the shadows
where you can hide me away
from the the dusk and the ghost
that only comes before sunrise

in that dance of sad songs
we held hands on borrowed time
but never too tightly
lest i forget that you're not mine
but someone else's lost rhyme

i have been wishing for stars
to carve our shapes into the soil
but the earth always sinks away
as the sunset steps on our hearts
still lost in uncharted skies

tonight i stumbled once more
into the soft colors of sadness
because i need to fold my arms
and let you go, one last time
while the moon eclipses our paper hats

11.02.2004.02.16.p.m.

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