matchalatteandwords

[matchalatteandwords]

When was it?

When did it become a privilege to breath?

When a hundred thousand died and a million plus suffocate. Drowned in an ocean of mis-content, prayed to Lady Ms. Fortune.

Lost in the sea of choices on Netflix, while thousands march across the Imperial Boulevard of his, or her, majesty, reticulated. Was it teary gas or did they choked by the knee of justice? Blinded by the bigger picture of unity and pride, protected and served by the royal guards of simplicity and lies.

When wasn't it?

[matchalatteandwords]

Tingling Pain - June 2, 2017

When your soul burning in pain, wishful sparkles light up in flames, but deadly silence, eternal scar pings, emptiness in your head echos and rings, a thousand needles passing through your every neural strings, fresh wounds ting, sew you, pull you, lose control you sing the symphonies of the so called majority, look up, screaming at the top of your lungs, why are you king? How do you reign? You are to blame! Giving the limitless minds countless constraints, age and illness so we’d be contained, wondering maybe you too are framed… Perhaps everything dissolves into nothingness, a splash of rains, to be washed and drained.

[matchalatteandwords]

Car ride - December 1, 2016

In the passenger seat, the reflection of her is overshadowed by many noise of the roads. A mixed motion of stationary mobility, a fixation of her present warmth intimately empowers my wheel through the continental highways and valleys. Her presence alone fuels the endless motion of the perpetual possibility. The highway forks, through many storms I wish to see you again, an unhinged smile. To hear you again, a voice rattles with the sound of unconditional love…

Changed many lane, the same direction remains, forgetting what it was that I want to see from the rear view mirror as I try to hold mements alive. Just to be there with you, your presence alone calms my ocean of pointless notions. Apologizing for the many battles we fought against each other as the rains floods my wiping windshield. Wish we could fight again but meaningless words and salty floods, the scars have been casted, the wounds can’t be sealed. Just want to see you again my dear, my love.

[matchalatteandwords]

One of those nights

Pih pah pah

Rains fallen, dances off the glass windows

Thunders cling,

Sunders off bricks and morter

As a million razor blades glide down the esophagus of the men in the watery mirrors

Tsih tsah tsah

A dirt eating monster parks, loads, digests all of the leftovers of our human civilization

The reminiscences linger, the monster departs, rubbery wheels spin

A chorus of engines, rubbers, and their beeps to humans murmur in the midst of an after storm

Zing

A thundery beginning advertently converges to a soundless climax

Solemn reminder of all the incomplete vengeances left in my vein as they slides down into a puddle

A silent ring stitches all the sizzling chill caressed by the artificial wind

Render all the cuts painlessly, rending my quote on quote heart into countless pieces

A thousand "Sorry" as they look down onto the drizzling street

These reflections of me mumble, a long fixed vacant gaze at our glowing "Athenian Pinnacle"

Until my breath blurs, takes away this only reality I have left

[matchalatteandwords]

Method

I went to star gazing last night, In the middle of the woods, I stand on the edge of the hill, the setting sun endows my indignant shadow as I wonder how to recall emotion without memory. A clash of silhouettes between the two worlds, he, my shadow, stretches to gauge the veracity of my inexorable pain.

Bemused, I wonder if you are real. You, the Blackening Heaven, lift the cloudy ceiling, snaps me back into this bereft emptiness: absence of life and death, except a simulacrum of who I think I wasto her; and he, my shadow, fades as I waitin hope the lachrymose reality would be an evanescent dream.

The pollen-y breeze brushes my eyes, my nose, my chin and the gaps between my fingers. I sneezed away my last sense of hope. my world, now painted in the water colors of my eyes, edging behind the fastened gate, dolefully witnessing the mercurial scene change from sliver-lining to dangling glitter. Without a blink, every burn-in fades.

Again I look. Again, standing on the edge of the hill. Again, asking myself… How do I create something so similar yet so different? Channeling my agony, wishing the gate would unlock but failed. Is that pain too great or has the paints desiccate? The breeze resonates at the imagination of myself. Keep doing make believe, treating this as-if it’s the panacea to my scar. Mesmerized by the Chandelier in the Green Mountain Sky,Hopelessly wishing she is happily dancing with the seven sisters, as the 8th star aligns. Feeling like I am tokenizing my own pang to goad my tears. Thus far, without you, two years have passed.

[matchalatteandwords]

Yellow Blue Bike

A brushing flash rushes before me when you first presented this yellow blue bike, disappointed and shameful to ride it out in the street. Unbeknownest to my younger self, I judged your heart based on the face value of this yellow blue bike. What a waste? A waste of your money or your love. A slap on the face, your face. Is it a generational dissonance or waa it simply my spoiled self over valuing my little narrow minded self.

Nonetheless, I felt it. I felt it when I said "what the fuck this is." I felt the stab you felt, the betray I railed, the dispacible hell-ish pain you'd have never imaged to held in the depth of your humbling self, I felt. I failed, I fell. I fell into this unforgivable crime I commited as a selfish son who should never tell his own beloved mama she failed. Instead I failed. I failed to understand the fact that she was trying give all she could, so I can stay in this bubbly imaginary kingdom of myself, with her as my only subject who'd never bail. All because my stupid little self.

I rode the yellow blue bike once or twice, or until my overly self concious self conciously imagining the silent laugher on my bike trail. I stopped, ask you for permission to let this beautiful yellow blue bike go. You disappointingly say so, you disappointingly say you failed, but no. You didn't, it was me. I failed to see the color of this beautiful little bike. Little did I know the blue I see is in fact the glowing love you have for me. I only wish I had told you the rustic truth instead.

[matchalatteandwords]

Four Five Six

Four 

Awaken, my mind sinks back into the never before, scene darkens 

Imaging every possible scenarios to ease my pain 

Feels fasten, smile forgotten. 

Only from the recollection do I feel the tingling joy rivet through my vein 

Figuratively exiting my body 

every laughter and tingling tap have sunken a fraction of myself I can’t recall 

Five 

My heavy eyes fallen 

from the darkness to emptiness and again brighten 

forgotten what was before but the lingering after. 

Victim, villain, and the bystander. 

I witnessed y’all, until you recall the password. You, Ms. victim of the hostile world, recall...

if I know the password, stories will roar, 

that when my silence fall. I lost and my mind tossed only to realize my disconnected body hauls

awaken again 

finding myself in the same sunken place 

except my dry eyes are wet, and my wet lids are dry. 

Six 

[matchalatteandwords]

Serotinal Braze

Drafting winds whisper on the river,

Another world startled, shaken every mirror,

The serotinal braze smoothens my cheeks, my lips, my eyes,

Hugged by the eternally ocean of time,

Alas I turn to see you smile again,

What was changed, changed again.

[matchalatteandwords]

Verisimilar-ly

The words ring through juries’s tooths, brings verisimilar in the forever buried truth. What is true and what is false, only victor could tell it all despite the many dissents it may cause, the actual truth it has costed. 

[matchalatteandwords]

Silent Funster

Day in, day out, the silent laughter faded out as the reminiscence of your words perpetually wander in the ether of my mind, not a day wasted was I not wasted. Drown by the deserted tears at the corner of my soul. The funster in me departed along with you, only his shadow remained to giggle in times of needs, to hide from the sadness it seeks, to be normal... it seems.