i really can't stand you;

i really can't stand you
why do you think that only your opinion matters?
you should learn to listen to the voices of others.
maybe you are more experienced
maybe you have been in it longer than i have been alive
but you still don't give the chance to hear us.
maybe you are nice
but in emails and in person
you sometimes sound condescending
you ask for questions and then rebuke them.
how are we to understand
if you dont explain?
god help me in the weeks i will have you.

grow hair, grow hair, grow!

grow hair, grow hair, grow!
i miss you beautiful waves
the dark chocolate shine
and especially your length.
a horrible mistake i made in 2007
putting you through such misery
such pain, such regret.
and then several more times
you hated me
for what i did to you:
permed you
cut you
cut you again
and once more.
but now, its been five months
since you have been near shears
and that is good!
but you haven't grown much longer
or my naked eye doesn't seem to see
at least.
grow faster please
i miss you so
and i will never wrong you again!

Turning the Tables of Destiny: A short story

He stirred slightly, the blood on his forehead already crusty and dry. How long was he out? He felt the sharp pains and tender aches over his entire body, muscles he never knew existed complaining. What happened, he did wonder. His memory was hazy, having no recollection of the recent past. Every bone in his body protested at his movements as he struggled to his feet, gasping, wincing.

And then the memories came, rushing back like a flooded levy. The others who came for him, to scar him and to possibly end his life. He remembered the look in their eyes, burning with heated passion, with hatred. Did he know them? No. But he understood exactly why he was targeted.

As a child, he grew up relatively happy, if not lonely. The other children would never play with him, forbidden by their parents. His own father disowned him at birth, too, leaving him and his mother, wanting nothing to do with them anymore. But his mother provided all the care and love she could, ensuring that he would grow up to be a proper gentleman. She had sacrificed everything for his safety and happiness; she endured estrangement from her family, the jeers of the village folk, and the harsh insults of her contemporaries. The mother of Satan's spawn they called her. They said evil was her lover, the dark arts her friend, and witchery her lifestyle.

So he left her. He left her to protect her, for if he was not around, perhaps they would leave her be. He would hope his mother told them she finally destroyed what had consumed her, that the boy who lived with her was no son of hers. He wished, from the bottom of his heart for her to do this to protect and free herself.

He yelled out in agony, collapsing to the ground, every bone in his body burning, like a hot iron rod. He blinked back the hot tears that stung his eyelids, threatening to spill over his dirty cheeks. He curled his fists, nails digging into the flesh of his palm, fighting the urge to give up, fighting to live through the pain. But it was proving to be much too harsh for him, and he fell onto his back, succumbing to the darkness, to relief.

How long he was out, he did not know. Hours, minutes, maybe years. The sensation of time was lost to his unconscious psyche.

And then, he heard a voice. As sweet as sunshine and as smooth as butter.

He felt a cold compress on his forehead, giving him much relief. He felt small hands rub his hands, feet, the joints that ached so badly. He flickered his eyes open, seeing a strange girl rubbing a healing salve on his wounds, apparent as his pain slowly began to subside, although not eradicated.

"Who are you?" he rasped, his voice dry from disuse. The movement tickled his throat, causing him to reflexively cough, sending him into a spasm.

The strange girl - no, woman - tsked at him. "You are better off not moving for awhile to let the salve set. It will not take long," she said told him, continuing her ministrations.

He listened to her and waited what felt like an eternity before the pains and spasms in his body became tolerable. "Why are you helping me? Can you not see what I am?" he questioned this strange woman once again.

"I am helping you because you someone who is in no position to care for himself. You have been badly beaten. You are lucky to be alive, considering the extent of your damages; broken ribs, punctured lung, bleeding spleen to name only a few. What in heaven's name did you do to receive such treatment?" She sat back on her sheepskin mat.

He stared at her for a moment. And then he stared at his hands. And the tail that wrapped around his torso, his wolf like ears flicking slightly. "Well, is it not obvious? I am a hybrid, a mutt; nothing worthy of attention. It was not what I did, but what I am."

She watched him quizzically, his statement soaking into her brain. "Well, I simply see another living being. I am sorry for your circumstance. But not worthy of attention? I believe you are wrong. You had someone who loved you very much for you to have survived as long as you did. I suspect that it was your mother who protected you to let you live long enough to experience life."

He snorted at her comment. "Experience life? The only life I have experienced was hurt and betrayal. Happiness is a foreign concept to me."

She shook her head. "I disagree," she said. "You have known happiness. I can see it in your eyes. It is mingled with sadness and torment, but it glows feebly."

He nodded. "Some happiness. With my mother. But that is all. To society, I am as good as livestock."

She gave him a pitying smile. "But you are setting yourself up to be said livestock. You are sculpting your person on beliefs your society has put forward, as barbaric as they are. Do you feel to be livestock, property, worthless? Who is to say that is the life you must lead? Take matters into your own had and build the foundation of your legacy yourself. No one, not even your mother, can design your future for you."

He suddenly felt very shy and embarrassed at her chastisement. Why did he never think of that before? He had been ridiculed and bullied for the majority of his life. But what did he do to stop it? Nothing, he realized. He allowed for his village folk to have their way with him, and his mother, and he did nothing to prevent nor stop it. He felt foolish.

She smiled at him, seeing the revelation light up in his green eyes. "You see now then? You only became what society wanted you to be, what they wanted to believe. You are no monster; you are no doormat to be stepped upon. You are a person, even if you are half human. You deserve the same rights as any other citizen of your society."

He listened to her words, and knew this to be true. Perhaps his beating, his leaving home, and his serendipitous encounter with this woman was a wake up call to pave a new future for himself. "Yes," he breathed to himself. "I can go back and put my right foot forward, and show them my potential. I can be a citizen of my village, and contribute. And if that fails, and if they reject me as they always have, I will move to another village, another city. I am not bounded to simply one place!" He became excited, unaware that he injuries had healed and that he was jumped up to his feet.

He whirled around to face the woman, to tell her of his plans, of his new found sun. But she was gone. The warm room that was once lit with fired logs was cool, ashes in the hearth. The candle that was lit when he awake had burned down to a puddle of wax. And the sheepskin that woman rested upon was coated in dust. And she was gone. He looked puzzled, wondering if her presence was simply a figment of his imagination, a magic his weak mine concocted to comfort and guide his pathetic self.

But no, the salve was still there next his feet, half used, and still fresh. He felt rejuvenated, his injuries healed, his pain gone.

Even after many years, he would never fully understand what had happened that day. Was the woman real? Or was he at the brink of insanity? Regardless if it was reality or fantasy, he did indeed become a new person. He was unable to be a part of his village; instead, he moved himself and his mother into another city. There, the citizens actually ignored him the first time he arrived, not because he was different, but because he was as ordinary as they were. He was not second-class or second-best to the human race. He was equal and they found nothing special about him. He worked hard and became an integral citizen of the city, a respected individual. He married and had children, with whom his mother had immense joy.

He would never know who that woman was. Was she an angel? A spirit? Or perhaps his muse, his guiding star that had burned down to a miniscule flame? Either way, he had reignited the life in his heart, the potential in his soul. He became the person his father never believed he would be and had the life he could only fantasize about.

He was whole and his life had purpose once again.

the drive in town was dreary;

the drive in town was dreary
with cars packed on the interstate
like sardines.
the musical genius of owl city
caressed my ears
a symphony to my brain.
the lull of sleep pulled so strongly
and i fought with heavy lidded eyes
to gain composure and to stay awake.
and finally did i make it
to my destination
without any destruction
on my part.

i sit here in this quiet place;

i sit here in this quiet place
with my thoughts and a few people
clicking away on their computers.
the silence is soothing, inviting
perfect for time away
from the hassles of life.
the main distraction is the heater
pushing in warmth
to frigid fingers.
books are perfectly aligned
on their bookshelf homes
perfectly alphabetized
forever forgotten in time.
the day has barely begun to set motion
the sunrise peeking over the horizon
to birth the world with the future.

i'm drowning, disappearing;

i'm drowning, disappearing
in this pile of rubbish.
suffocating, and losing consciousness
in this game called life.
papers strewn here and there
in disarray.
so hard to concentrate
on the list of things to do.
no more, no more
let me go
let me sleep.
no more, no more
i am tired of the endless points
on the map
from here to the end of the road trip.
erase it
give me a blank slate
to rewrite the memories and the future
so that i can bypass it all.

oh sweet release;

oh sweet release
where are you?
why do you evade me so?
i am desperately seeking you out
each day, every day
for you to bless me with your
presence.
it is an uncontrollable desire
a coveted want, need
and an unhealthy passion
to have you.
so please, please, please
sweet release
come out from the shadows
to me.

the days are getting shorter;

the days are getting shorter
darker, colder
and the sun no longer shines
as long as it used to.
it is an odd feeling
the transition of seasons
from warm to chilly.
but one merry thing
about the coming of winter.
halloween, thanksgiving, christmas, new years
a bountiful succession of tradition
of beautiful holidays.
i love the smell of pine trees
and the glittering bulbs
of christmas lights
stringed and looped over bushes
and along rooftops.
i love the falling snow
so white, cold, and beautiful
coating the world
a winter wonderland.

she had a dream last night;

she had a dream last night
being pursued by those who wished
to capture and kill
to destroy her.

a horse came to the door
to whisper run, run, run
they are coming.
there is no time he said
pack the bare essentials
and leave this place forever.

that she did
grabbing her laptop
and her coat.
food she would buy on the way
hotels she would rent.

she looked out the front door
she saw 'sparkle cleaners'
and knew they had come
her exterminators.
they were people she once knew
once worked with
and once had wonderful times with.

she grabbed her younger brother
her father and her mother
and pushed them out the back door
onto the patio.

but intercepted she was
by a man whom she loved.
and she was stricken at the thought
of his betrayal.
but no, he did not betray
he grabbed her hand
hiding her
leading her to the car
that would drive them to sanctuary.

they got to the car
he said he could not follow
for he was bounded to her enemies.
he said go, go, go
never return
for they will be waiting.

she kissed him one last time
clasping his hand
never wanting to let go.
with sorrow in each other's eyes
she climbed into the driver's side
and drove away
into the horizon.

A sweet prayer

A sweet prayer
I gently sing
With a melodious ring
Diffusing the sting
Of life's harsh fangs.

[from 2007]

nursing

nursing
a tough passion
of death, life, and healing.
being there, caring for those in need
always.

tick tock tick tock

tick tock tick tock
she stares at the clock
watching time pass by
inch by inch
so agonizingly slow.

ten seconds crawl by
seemingly hours.

when will she be free?

she has been here
sitting, with cramping thighs
and numb toes
waiting, waiting, waiting.

she feels the shiver in her bones
the fear that clutches at her heart
and the mild sensation of suffocation.

she wants nothing more than to sleep
or to die.
anything than wait for that unknown fate
where her future may lie.

when will she be free?

she longs to breathe the fresh air
to feel the sun on her cheeks
and to hear the bluebirds chirp.
but she is no more than a prisoner
locked away, hidden forever
in a gilded cage.

when will she be free?

do you hear me when i call out your name;

do you hear me when i call out your name
when i am singing the song to your heart
late at night when the world is asleep?
i fervently hope you will hear the notes
that dance inside my mind
and i can barely speak when i see you sneak
right past my window blinds.
i will follow the trails you leave behind
like birds on breadcrumbs in hansel and gretel
to simply have the chance to glimpse.
and this sad obsession will drive me to the brink
until you hear me call out your name
and listen to your heart's song
that which i sing.

we will run through the hallways;

we will run through the hallways
and zigzag through rooms
pursued by our enemies
until we reach the end of the maze.
we will catch our breaths
and laugh precariously
at how narrowly we escaped
our unprecedented fate.
it is then when we will pause
to stare at each other
as our laughs become giggles
and fluttering breaths.
and we will smile at one another
suddenly painfully shy
full of wonder and awkward silences
as if we have not been friends for years.
we will realize our hands are still entwined
from the spontaneous rabbit on the run chase.
and as we draw closer together
falling sideways onto the bed in a hidden room
we will continue to stare, and smile, and breathe in silence
because even in the darkest days
when hope is all but seemingly stolen and gone forever
we understand that we will always have each other.

[scene inspiration: ProfEugenius]

dæmon;

dæmon
my very soul
forever together
pullman's fantasy idea
my friend.

a happy day today will be and is;

a happy day today will be and is
where families and friends come together
to celebrate the harvest of our ancestors
and spend quality time with one another.
no fights or arguments can stain this day
just good food will stain our clothes
as we enjoy the festive feast.

give thanks

give thanks
to those you love
on this bright happy day
while gobbling up food, ham, and
turkey.

i'll say hello and goodbye to the sunrise;

i'll say hello and goodbye to the sunrise
as it rises from the east
from georgia to california
each and every day
year after year
until the star burns itself out.
i'll say hello and goodbye to the clouds in july
as they dot the horizon with their illusionary figures
watching them drift lazily across the sky
being functionally defunt
until they darken with rain
and let out their king of the jungle thunder.
i'll say hello and goodbye to the demons of my dreams
each and every night
until the light is bestowed upon them
when they will cringe and shriek in fear
until their voices are no more
and i am granted my freedom.

what is it like

what is it like
to live a life with no regrets or mistakes
to walk upon each milestone
confident, successful, and proud?
it is a fantasy that is out of our reach
where mistakes are the epitomes
of successful journeys.

with mistakes comes learning
and with learning comes understanding.

so when will the next biggest mistake occur?
will we become engraved into history
or simply become silhouettes of time?

tra la la;

tra la la--
this tune that drones inside my head
la di da--
something i can barely comprehend
sing along--
a song that has no name
cha cha cha--
but inside my heart it is all the same.

email

email
clickity-clack
typing loves notes to you
being far away yet so close
and send.

Sweet lullabies whispered in my ears;

Sweet lullabies whispered in my ears
so calming, a flow of nonsensical words
of whimsical origins
as I drift away into the realm of dreams.

Shades of blues and greys color my world
of open skies and sea foam
a wondrous clash of memories
from the deepest crevice of my heart.

A life remembered from long ago
long since buried in the soil
to grow and foster a new future
that lays the path to my yellow-brick road.

happy;

happy
feeling fuzzy
like steaming hot cocoa
fresh on a chilly, winter day
sweetness.

i am a balloon inflated with elation;

i am a balloon inflated with elation
floating across the plains without a care in the world
and profusely smiling.

a day that started off blue and grey
transforms into colors and happiness.

it truly is an awesome day.

the semester is almost at an end

the semester is almost at an end
and i can only dream about the day i sleep in
with no clinical rotations
or papers to worry about.
it's a salivating thought, you see
that i am one semester closer
to freedom and graduation
(and higher paying salaries!)
it's unbelievable at how fast time as passed
how this chapter in my life
is coming to a close
so very very soon.
only a few more semesters
before i enter to working world
of responsibilities.
and i will be waiting for that day
confident and standing proud
'cause i'll have my big girl panties on. =)

Painted hearts dance across her cheekbones

Painted hearts dance across her cheekbones
to hide the obvious sorrow in her eyes
a facade to cover up the scars.
Too many years have passed living in shadow
only to face the truth before her
for she can no longer run away or hide.
She needs to stand strong
that she understands
but can she smother the flutters in her chest?
No more avoiding the inevitable, she says
time to embrace the open skies
even when the thunder comes crashing down.

Paper-thin memories splay on the screen

Paper-thin memories splay on the screen
like sheets of falling rain in spring
of a midnight castaway dream.
Forgetting all that was in the past
slipping away so very fast
understanding that nothing is ever to last.
A sea of endless hopes
hanging haphazardly from silver ropes
"can you hear the future?" she wrote.

can you feel the open breeze

can you feel the open breeze
of memories we have left behind
trailing
trailing
spiraling downward endlessly.

so much more that can never be
destinies that will never see
the light of day
light of day
light no longer aflame.

so what can i say when i dream
about you and love we have lost
forever gone
forever gone
forever gone today.

Tell me, what do you see

Tell me, what do you see
Underneath the starry sky
Something that we wish we could be
As we hide behind a mask, a facade, a lie?
Looming over the mountain peaks
Where the heavy clouds tumble down their rain
But still a secret which we seek
Over and above graves the tulips have lain.
Lost amid a fog of helplessness and despair
So many puzzle pieces strewn
Trying to find our way through the lair
Navigating the paths of ruin.
The time has come to wash our soiled hands
And to leave behind what is the past
To march on forward over our newly discovered lands
Our fears and cautions, to the winds we cast.