Big Tree Small Pond

Will this seed ever become a tree?
It's been years of gradual growth,
but it seems like it will never reach the skies.
With so much redwoods blanketing the middle ground,
it's hard not to look up.

But in a great intimidation the rays of light are blocked.
Plenty of other trees can grow without light but why not this one?
I'm frustrated because I want it to reach the heavens,
and I want it to tower over the entire earth.
I'll let it become the great land mark of the entire universe.
The Great Wood outdoing mother earth itself as a host of life.

But this sapling can only dream.
It can't help but sigh up and down with the autumn wind.
quickly swallowing any taste of light it can get.
slowly it grows and slowly it extends.

It whistles in the wind,

"I'm going to be up there one day,

you'll see..."

rant

the feather is cold, dry and virgin to present time's inkwell.
It's embellished in a reoccurring frozen thought.
I see emotions and their leaking auras ascend from it's shell,
and I decide to reach into the darkness to exclaim the current state's requiem
Attempting to explain the dirty slated ways of them,
because I'm caught in this cycle of looking back to...
"now and then" but...
I remind myself why the feather ever became neglected in the first place.
I sit justifying it to save face amongst the crowd of un-attentive peers.
The soul always felt destined to shape a seer but I still stand before you today...
incompetent...
writer's blocked, soul locked, lacking all accomplishment...
There is me.
That was then
This is now.
So now i've re-learned that optimism is this epic monument that requires maintenance on a daily basis.
and though I understand my brained is over staffed,
still...nothing ever seems to really get done.
So once again I let it go and leave nothing for those amounts to grow.
show and tell a green colored mask, show only black and royal blue,
and hope the sun lends an ear and maybe a vision too...

Inkless Pen - (May 2010 prompt)

He cannot spit,
He cannot emote,
He cannot express,
He cannot write what he really wants to say.
challenged by uncertainty,
disturb by his thoughts,
troubled by his confidence,
pressured by his repetition of common cliche.
an insomniac soul,
a deteriorating health,
a regretful past,
a bothered heart beating in cold grip.
The knee hurts,
The walls don't speak,
The family is strong,
The sun is brighter than last year's trip.
She was a recent smile,
She was the triple eyed,
She was a second time,
She was the first faded image of these four.
it tries to speak,
it wants to relive,
it attempts a scream,
it hopes to achieve more than it asks for.
wondering if they listened
understanding their insecurity
believing they're true
hoping there is more to what's already been said.
They write willingly
They write openly
They write unknowingly
They write this in place because their art is dead.

Inkless Pen pt 2. (Visual)

Because this is the story of my life...
all the troubls that one can endure.
every mitsake we have to le rn from.
we emobdied what we c..mprehenf..
....e see with our e..ys...closd...ed...
our.......a d//.....q..........
lsi......to.. it spe.........for.......
beca.use....the .....scatt.rrer....brain.ed..
he...arrt.....s.........f............fo....
oif........if.............pnot/.................s.......
......di.....................................e..................
......................d......................................
................................................................................................
................................................................
................................
..............a..................





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............................................................................x..........
................................as................................


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................................hel..................................
................................................................
.................................................................p................................
................................
................................................................
................................................................me...

(by Johnny Datura)

“My visions, dreams, and ideals will never see the light of day, because if they were to be set free. The world would only stone them and cast them aside as talk of the outcasts.

Men claim to seek truth but are held back by their own crusade. The truth they find everyday is truth they may never learn to understand, and because these things are foreign to them, they turn away from the light because it blinds their eyes.

how ironic are these hands of time,

how ironic are these hands of mine."

still up

the headache from no sleep...lurks.
there it stands, there it waits insecure.
perched atop a mellow tree that always bends
all friends, all family are poked by fall bark ends.

the wind will blow then the tree will sway,
just to bother all others along the haze.
the line of few amidst the maze,
will be tapped by the tree to see clouds above daze
night shall descend into a offering of new light
9 nimbus brain sights just play out whats right.
the rest is just at best...all hype,

so...1 will come forth and challenge the sadness.
worried through signs from a morning dream's practice
whats the madness all mean from just an idle question.
when the session is with an idol from which I have gained an obsession.
keep searching the lesson on why she was mentioned
yes, that person where love lost and leaving had been destined...


"Confusion Over Dreams..."

lyric

so, truth is I can't write for sh*t. I've had a lot on my mind but the transition to paper is no bueno.
so instead I'll share 2 songs I've currently been hooked on.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

(Yui - "AGAIN")

I still got a lot of years ahead of me to just erase these feelings.
I want to go back and finish the things I've yet to finish.

I was suppose to be chasing my ongoing dream.
Yet I faltered over others while walking this thin, winding path.

It's not that I want to return to those days.
I'm searching for the sky I lost.
Don't make that sad face, as if you've fallen victim.
as if you want people to pity you.

Tears aren't the end of your sins.
You have to bear them painfully, forever.
Who are you waiting for in the maze of emotions
where you can't even see the exit?
I want to blurt it out justly,
just like how I wrote in my white notebook
What do you want to run from?.
That thing called "reality"?

(Chorus:)
I just want to scream out,
"I'm only living to fulfill my wish." Can you hear me?
I can't take the safe way out of everything.
I don't even have a place to return to.
I'm always thankful for everyone's kindness,
that's why I want to become stronger. (I'm on the way)
This is reminding me of the old days.
This pain is all right with me.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

(SNSD - "Into the New World" : eng.)

I want to express this time of sadness
even if you hear it after the sadness is scattered.
close your eyes and try to feel my shaking heart
and see the glitter in my eyes when I face you.
Don't wait for a special miracle,
the street where we met is right in front of your eyes.
I can't change the future and habits that I don't know of;
I can't abandon them either.
Please protect me with unchanging love,
all the way up to my scarred heart.
There is no use for words within my gaze,
time has finally come to a stop.

(Chorus:)
I love you.
and at the end of my wandering,
I started to miss that feeling.
I will now say "Goodbye",
to the repeating sadness within this world.
On the many unknown roads,
I chase after that dim light.
No matter long it takes, It' something we'll do together!
After all, It's my world where we can meet again.

Don't wait for a special miracle,
the street where we met is right in front of your eyes.
I can't change the future and habits that I don't know of;
I can't abandon them either.
Please protect me with unchanging love,
all the way up to my scarred heart.
There is no use for words within my gaze,
time has finally come to a stop.

(Chorus)

Like this, I feel the dark night alone.
Your soft tender breathing
warms up the moment.
So that I can now express all my tremblings.

(Chorus 2:)
I love you.
and at the end of my wandering,
I started to miss that feeling.
I will now say "Goodbye",
to the repeating sadness within this world.
Even if I just think of you, I become stronger!
Please help me so that I don't cry
This moments feeling is something we made together
After all, it's out world where we can meet again.

"The Struggle with Ambiguity"

I too am obsessed with numbers.
Obsessed with the excess of my own ambiguity.
Like releasing the gates, which only I can see.
But then I'm faced with a reality which blindly sets a tone over my ears
I can no longer hear…
And then a tone opaque covers my eyes.
I can no longer see…
Now the ambiguity engulfs me.
I've only dreaded these eyes and ears because of the alleyway I once walked down upon.
Couldn't see which track I was on,
Couldn't listen to the sound track to the song that played in my foreground.
Constantly blocking the way to a mind-state that overdubbed my understanding of what was real and what was fallacy.

"I too" is probably the overstatement.
"I too" is probably the misunderstanding
I for one, am probably subject to the lie which seemed like an investment in hope.
The faith of the future.
The faith of a future.
And as repetitive as it may seem.
You just don't see the irony that has erected from the scene.
Embarrassing it is to fit in a meme which I chose not to associate with
But the reality is that I did it again and placed myself behind the myth.
All because I chose not to let the belief wither and die.
Realizing that what I've visualized before was just a cloud in the sky.
Trust me,
I've came back down from that already and unstuck my head from the nimbus on high.

Got my head out the clouds because it seemed like an unlikely destination to be in.
This compilation of text seems so scatterbrained,
believe me, I hate the feelin'.
Meddling with the rhyme,
through the sun I see the times.
if only I can see ahead to the unveiling of the mind.
I would…
But we all know that its possibility is impossible when left to a coin toss.
Which causes us to understand the lasting fact that the loss is dreaded in the mist.
So that's it. now I just criss-cross it off the main list.
Or at least I try to.
Jus do me favor for now and reevaluate self for before you think this is about you.

An Unfinished Painting

(welcome back late night freewrite hype)


-------------------------------------------------



I have come to know the image that has been painted by the soul.
It speaks of a cliché,
but I stand before you now to justify its difference.
So I gaze out through one’s presence only to find a portrait of my mind.
and as I pick it up, all the subject matter it holds runs off like un-dry paint.
Loose with no solid substance,
A fresh vision put in place with a brush oversaturated.
Overused over time to the point where it no longer bear its own original look.
How ironic, that my splitting image of the tool can be used to manipulate my self conscious
and hold the potential to build this misinterpreted perception of reality.

I understand I hold the key to unlock my minds eye,
but the only problem is it’s not so easy to see why I can’t find it.
It’s like watching a locksmith run through a ring of keys,
hoping that he would hurry up and just find the right one already.
As if life depended on it.
As if time relied on it.

But through the re-evaluation.
I’ve viewed the social norms society creates as hindrances
Restrictions to confine the spirit in which the soul wishes to regain control of.
The difference lies within these lines.
But the cliché and ironic reality is that they always remain trapped and embedded in these words.
These words that are merely a shameless, and hopeful effort to convey truth.
Because sometimes truth hurts,
and because sometimes truth should not be admitted.

So I leave the painting out to dry.
But the paint keeps running off.
Even if I laid it flat on the ground, its contents spill onto the floor.
And while many would equate this as endless tears of sadness,
I realize it now and see it like overflowing tears of joy.
A “happiness” and form of content to know that my soul is forever changing.
Never still.
Never dull
Like dancing in a cleansing rain
Paint constantly being applied to the canvas.

A painting never finished…

brought to you by "hella late...hella early early in the morning.



- - - - - - - - -

"But There's Something"

So it's time now.
The look on the face of youth stood neutral.
but he could still read through it.
because he's seen part of what lies within.
so go now,
Start your new year now!
listen and sit back to the humming of yesterday.
playback the melody into bits for my ears to feed on.

turning around, he could smell the greener grass,
but another side doesn't really exist,
because we stood atop a plain that stretches into the blue.
though each hill may attack us… we step on,
despite the rolling hills or mountains.
the self struggle will always be there.
as ordinary people, we hold this sky up with our hands.
but the self struggle inside,
is dealing with trying our best just to carry ourselves.

Through the isolation you either become independent,
or you learn how much you should of appreciated a friendship.
so go on now,
the "second" you ride on,
it's on its way now.
he's experienced enough moments of being passed by;
picked himself up and dropped himself on the pharcyde of town.
she left with "time" as it reached out with both long and short hands.
pulled her in and ticked on continuously.

All that was left was her standing in the back.
one tapped his head for her request.
so she climbed out his head and left the sub conscience.
she stood there 2 dimensional,
because he only got to see her one way.
only because she hardly opened herself true.
Their images never grew bigger in size.
while the only heart he was able to see,
was the one that laid near the ace on the bed.

and while she bled.
The timeline vanished into the end of it all.
his imagination still remained intact,
but the bruised love took the world into consideration.
And it grasped a realization that the story of my life,
Is just another repetitive string attached to it all
so while he got his.
it was time for me to go again and find another lead on trying to get mine.
so I took this piece…
stapled it into my mindset and let it ride a cloud.
The white nimbus pillow let off a stardust trail that played notes of your favorite song while i sang aloud...
Then I rode the melody as the emotion jumped out of my chest.
It soloed on the fret-board of a guitar that was playing what sounded like a way to say goodbye.

I waved away as I glanced at the sun.
I looked straight up and pinched the sun with my fingers.
placed it over my mouth, and as I dropped it in I began to swallow it
I looked down to see my soul light up, so I bid an adieu to time.
the keys dipped as each hammer hit and each hit, hit harder than last.
I listened to the whispers of the future,
and all that was left was the remnants of those who tried to ease up.

so as he turned it towards his chest,
he stuck it down his life and squeezed the trigger.
the design in turn created the image for her to see.
but instead it was pushed under the bed.

Click, Click, pull, BANG!

The shot rang out and back to "conscience" I came.
Laid back and smelled the flowers while the beat rode out my words.
while i regained consciousness...

the image

soul image,
black imprint on the silk screen.
undying, but unfulfilled amidst the unseen.
ride along the lines,
only color on the inside.
tell me why they're so many restrictions in a lifetime.

little linus rebelled,
he colored on the outside.
even when the image he filled was from his own lines.
broke the crayon in half,
and scribbled with two hands.
picked up the image and transformed it into his own brand.

sculpt your own struggle,
or paint your own fate.
be drawn into life to learn from the mistakes.
dream up the sun,
and make the soul image.
never lift the brush until the journeys all finished.

i just woke up...

a signal to then as an end to the redundant cliche,
the motions consist of pushing the pen aside, then pulling it back in.
the goal to emulsify our existence as coating to my soul still persists.
i light the match and linger under the end of the fuse.
ready to blow the bridge i contemplate the end between both thumb and finger.
patience does not work with a lit flame,
for sooner or later the light burns out.
the match crumbles and scars the hand,
but effects the chest,
burning straight through the heart.
i leave with a steady hand and a steadfast gaze ahead.
so i picked up my whole heart and sprayed through the burned away hole,
just to stencil the way through the glamorous maze.
marking my path with intentions of probably wanting to go back and retrace steps.
"far too often a blank page is left idle".
far too often i've become content with that phrase.
amidst the green i sit back and settle,
only to constantly glance through the haze at a portrait i hold of women named hope.
with a blurry view of the horizon the blame is thrown upon ones self.
with a blind view of the goal, i pick up the tablet and inscribe a message to my future self.
i kiss the stone and cast it off the ravine.
in turn, i cut out my tongue with the expectation of it returning.
discarding it's aim off the cliff, i wander aimlessly through the forest.
now my image begins to fade.

"exhale when stars appear."

i've taken a break from writing
but obviously i'm taking a tiny break from that..
i couldn't sleep and i felt like writing something

note: it's 4:26 a.m.

- - - - - - - - -

a coincidence...
inhale the cool air of a summer midnight.
standing in the middle of the plaza by the pier,
it was either fight or flight.
i let the emotions run dry,
a faucet empty and not willing to spare a drop.
a simple exchange was interpreted as betrayal,
so i walked away.
you stepped in front.
i stopped...
a bench appeared and i stir clear of the glares to sit there.
just simply glancing into the bay,
only wondering what you cared.
the bridge lights vividly ran astray,
and when i opened my mouth to speak,
the stare from you became too cliche.
the words danced a blur
i stood up to tell you straight
so when i lined them up phrase by phrase in my head,
my sight faded black, my body stripped of its strength,
i fell awake in bed.
i grew irritated of seeing my interpretations be embellished into another reality
but i laid more frustrated to the fact that i couldn't dream it back.
what could i have said?
what did she have to say?
all because of stupid cell phone alarm.
exhale on the cool breeze of a summer midnight.

finally some new art...

its been awhile since i pushed anything out of my head..

i'm on a creative writing hiatus for certain reasons, so i've been meaning to create some art to at least contribute to the blog. plus i'll be hanging up these pieces and a couple others at some shows coming up.


i completed this first piece awhile back at a friends house, i just randomly threw stuff on the small canvas and ended up with this concept of the 5 senses.

"Sense of Philosophy"
(Tempera, Acrylic, Sharpie)



on each side of the canvas i wrote a lil blurb relating to the sense that side had.

(Smell) "Breathe in the smell of the journey."
(Hearing) "Listen outside the image."
(Touch) "Reach for the ends of reality."
(Taste) "Taste the fruit of life."
(Sight) "See past the abstract...and ascend."

This next piece I completed about 2 hours ago. It's a piece made in memory of a friend who recently passed. Despite everything she was dealt; her display of wisdom and strength were truly inspirational.

The other day I walked into a borders and looked around. For the first time, I actually found a book that highly sparked my interest and walked out with it (paying of course, haha). That book was Banksy's Wall and Piece". After finishing looking over the book this person became my new favorite artist. His whole concepts behind stencil are too fresh.

So I put 2 and 2 together and got this..

"True Strength"
(Tempera, Acrylic, Spraypaint [Stenciled])

untitled

the irony of the day makes me drift into space.
as if these days on earth weren't complicated enough.
daily complications beginning to fall back into place.
with the counteraction sitting behind it on the rough.
but i sit on realities edge while others argue if it's still round.
just stuffing things into book bags as i sound off the alert of my departure
no need for the clumsiness though
im only signing off to daydream a little.
ill leave my head just in the clouds jus for you.
as if availability wasn't sitting on the curb already
look for it there tho, just in case u need to send up a bat signal or two
time off is is time to be on the system.
ride astro belts and visit satellites just to take a look back.
stupid as i may be,
im still looking out here for signs of life.
leave behind the last act in the last chapter that ceased to exist.
Alpha Centauri never looked this great from a patch of grass.

"unknown random doors to randomness"

insert
turn
click
remove..

its now unlocked.
but i question the reason to open it.
now blocked by irrelevant emotion
i stand before this wall with clocks attached to my shoulders.
cuz every time i look back,
I'm re informed of how much time is being wasted.
brush off my shoulder only to leave a small hand there.
constantly nagging and pointing
showing what hours of the day is spent lost in thought.
ill ignore it for now.
this white door still stands before me.
and i cant peek through cuz the peephole is facing the wrong direction.
all i see is a blurred figure on the opposite side.
the figure moves...and i only squint more.
the hint of new tears leaks as i strain one eye too long.
three minutes later I'm waiting for a knock from 5 fingers on the other side
six Sakura petals fall before me
seven flowers blossom at my feet
eight pieces of fruit fall from trees unknown
nine butterflies emerge from their cocoon.
like a summer haiku,
the beauty of the door radiates as it now sits amidst a garden patch.
ten has been ascended on
ten is Japanese for heaven
and
ten is a number that exist only because nothing sits right beside it
and nothing else ever can.

as the world turns

as the world turns,
a revolution in the distance repeats itself.
the old cliche record skips once again.
just sitting through midnight breezes,
i stare at these blank pages.
a white canvas becomes too intimidating,
so i retreat to this shell of music in which i seek slumber in
i search for the realization amidst the echoes.
the music plays on and bounces off the walls of this conch,
and drowns out the noise of the ocean.
because the songs meaning is just too deep compared to the sea.
just stuck in a trance,
i just happened to end up this way.
sitting for too long, listening to carefully,
got too used to the day
got too comfortable with these ways.
but ill break free.
ill break this glass ceiling,
and transcend this emotion,
redefining the meaning of the greenhouse effect.
to breathe in and be able to exhale as freely as the earth once did.
but for now, ill sit in this dark room
and develop these life lessons in each thought-process-stop-bath,
only to create good habits.
so i speak once again in cliche
so i sit once again under moonlit rays
i sit as the world turns...



get up...

us-0religion-1

that kat,
his book is pretty inspiring.
no doubt...
it definitely touches the soul.
its obviously touched many.

you spoke a line of his the other day.
i sat back,
i listened.
you typed a line he spit in your journal
i read,
i thought.
flyest poet to ever hit the block i guess.
sickest mc that you probably ever jocked

its a trip homeboy gets hella girls,
but at the same time its not really suprising.
the type to fight over.
the type to debate over.
somethin about him rechecks your mindstate.

my cuzzin the other day wanted to meet him
my old friend wishes to greet him
my homie on the block turned over his own existance once he knew about "his".

but now you.
you got your sights set on him
youre towards his direction
while others wish to set their iron sights on him
but they couldn't do it
they just can't

but now you.
should i feel ashamed of feeling jealous.
or should i feel like a sinner.
whats done is done and what's past didn't last.
but if it did.
would you have really looked my way?

repetitions

trapped inside a score for so long,
i seem to be only able to write with this song on loop.
bound to the page and chained,
like staying within the guidelines of a coloring book.
these patterns become all too cliche,
and just like those guidelines,
my days have become the same,
obnoxiously outlined with thick lines,
and they're all filled in with an off gray.
colorless to the touch im seeking ways to fill in each gap,
so i pray.
i pray that in some way i can relieve this tension,
this war i fight in my head,
the one striving to reach a new plain.
an everlasting moonlight...
a stained psyche ..
a new pain...
despite the self-treason, i jus embrace the rain.
i confront the blasphemy...
i override the name...
i coincide with the opposite and brush off the shame.
so these mirrors refuse to reflect the image of the sun,
which instead, results an image of evil's aim.
so i stare straight into it until my brain goes numb,
constantly trying to undo my past,
to this repetitive tune that continuously hits glass.
reverbing into the room and echoing into the attic.
multiplying the repetition of the music,
becoming an insomniac addict.
and the more i think,
the more it just stays the same.
i must take action and shouldn't leave it up to blame.







EnD

Gift Barong Art Show

So last night, (Sat 04.07.07) i attended the screening of the movie; "The Gift of Barong." PYC V helped out with the planning and we were encharge of the entertainment that took place right before the show. PYC members did a fashion show displaying various Filipino culture apparel and did the "Pandango sa Ilaw" dance. 2 PYC musical artist performed, John Macapinlac and Josh (forgot his last name). Then Uncle MeL, Gandmaster Villasin and the other members of the Arnis group did their exhibition of Balintawak Arnis

the movie was well produced and was a pleasure to watch. it's a very enlightening story of two Filipino surfers that grew up here in America. Jon Vilar and Dan Moreno are the main subjects in the film. One day Dan Moreno is asked to go to a party with his mother and she hands him a barong to try on. When he puts it on and looks at himself in the mirror, he finally realizes who he truly was. Him and John plan a trip to the Philippines to explore the best surfing hotspots, as well as learning about the origin of their identity

The movie is hella inspiring and will make you recheck your identity, especially if you're a Filipino who's living here in the states. I guarantee this movie will also make you wanna surf, haha forreals..


So out in the lobby where we screened the movie. we had a small Art exhibition that we set up. The art was comprised of a collective of young Vallejo Filipino Artists.
and here is their stuff:

(please pardon the blurriness of my unsteady hand.)
(click on photos to enlarge)

This is Adrian David and his piece. Lately he's been producing a lot of art for Veterano Memorial events and is part of the Vallejo artist collective "Creatures of the Mind".



This is Adrian's cousin Robin David and her two pieces. She and her cousin paint together and also she does a lot of art in relation to Filipino culture, or issues like the Veteranos. She managed to sell her original piece on the right last night at the event. She is the 2nd member of "Creatures of the Mind"

J.R. is the 3rd member of "Creatures of the Mind" and works with the David's on a number of collaboration pieces. In this piece he flips his signature character along with the Filipino flag.
J.R. makes custom shirts by using just acrylic paint and brush and sells them.






These shoes were custom painted by John Macapinlac. He's currently a student at Hogan High and has been painting shoes for almost a year or two. He originally started painting just for himself but has recently got a number of customers to pay him to do custom painted designs on their shoes.




This is the piece that i did and put on display also for the show last night. It's titled "Everlasting Moonlight among the Staind Psyche", which is basically a play on the movie title "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." This piece took me about 2 weeks to finish. I started off by sketching my design on the canvas and it took me awhile because there were times when i couldn't figure out what to put. It's my very first painting so i wasn't sure how i was gonna do it. I was on spring break fortunately, because if i wasn't i probably wouldn't have had it done by the weekend. I started at the beginning of the week and finished it the day of on SAT. overall im pretty satisfied with it for it being my very first painting that i spent some real effort on. I used acrylic and about 6 different brushed and retouch it constantly (hella perfectionist and shit.)

id explain what it means. but that would take up a whole other blog....so ill save that for later... haha.


EnD...