with wings
Song of the Moment: Calling All Angels, Train
To Do (tasks, not people): meet up for next week's Pulag (wuhoooo)
Current State: soaring
~~~~~~~~~~
Airplanes
Take you away again
Are you flying
Above where we live
Then I look up a glare in my eyes
Are you having regrets about last night
I'm not but I like rivers that rush in
yesterday, riding a cab with a dubiously fast meter, i tell jae: i love the sight of airplanes above head. she is not interested in knowing why. and neither could i say i'd have a readily available answer.
the overcast skies paint gray the air as a dotted presence makes its way across. flying low its engines roar down on us as if in pain from the weight of its ambition to reach a height we can only approximate from below.
in transit between meetings, one is afforded a few moments to ask what it all means to be on the move. why is life always a story about people moving and people being left behind? the concrete pavement gathers puddles where strangers hush a second before another step is taken on the way to somewhere else.
So then I dove in
Is there trouble ahead
For you the acrobat
I won't push you unless you have a net
after dinner i get off at my stop and make my way across the avenue. the rains have stopped, but the waters are hesitant to leave the earth. i take earnest ginger steps to the opposite street. the headlights are screaming in my direction, i turn my head to the right and see a bus coming at me.
forty people? fifty? tired? anxious? horny? the limitless possibilities of a story on four wheels are like heartstrings pulling every human being in cris-crossing narratives. i imagine myself writing down their tragedies, and i laugh.
there is a door i want to knock on, a shower i'd like to bathe in, a bed i want to sleep in, with rumpled sheets and dirty pillows at my feet. the bus can crash and burn for all i care.
You say the word
You know I will find you
Or if you need some time
I don't mind
I don't hold on
To the tail of your kite
midnight. another face, another struggle. the walls are talking, and they are talking loud with tv signals channeling a message far from what i would like to hear.
the spin is unintelligible, the message is lost, the news inspires a yawn.
when one is halfway up, one is always halfway down, as a song i love goes. you don't hold on when that happens.
I'm not like thegirl boys that you've known
But I believe I'm worth coming home to
it might take the rain to bring you where you really want to be. or maybe something less metaphorical, like a cab. or a plane.
but why speed headlong into a world where one doesn't have meaning?
Kiss away night
Thisgirl boy only sleeps with butterflies
With butterflies
So go on and fly then boy
i love airplanes. when they are flying above head, and their engines are screaming in pain. they are ambitious in defying gravity.
but can love, spurned, do the same?
To Do (tasks, not people): meet up for next week's Pulag (wuhoooo)
Current State: soaring
~~~~~~~~~~
Airplanes
Take you away again
Are you flying
Above where we live
Then I look up a glare in my eyes
Are you having regrets about last night
I'm not but I like rivers that rush in
yesterday, riding a cab with a dubiously fast meter, i tell jae: i love the sight of airplanes above head. she is not interested in knowing why. and neither could i say i'd have a readily available answer.
the overcast skies paint gray the air as a dotted presence makes its way across. flying low its engines roar down on us as if in pain from the weight of its ambition to reach a height we can only approximate from below.
in transit between meetings, one is afforded a few moments to ask what it all means to be on the move. why is life always a story about people moving and people being left behind? the concrete pavement gathers puddles where strangers hush a second before another step is taken on the way to somewhere else.
So then I dove in
Is there trouble ahead
For you the acrobat
I won't push you unless you have a net
after dinner i get off at my stop and make my way across the avenue. the rains have stopped, but the waters are hesitant to leave the earth. i take earnest ginger steps to the opposite street. the headlights are screaming in my direction, i turn my head to the right and see a bus coming at me.
forty people? fifty? tired? anxious? horny? the limitless possibilities of a story on four wheels are like heartstrings pulling every human being in cris-crossing narratives. i imagine myself writing down their tragedies, and i laugh.
there is a door i want to knock on, a shower i'd like to bathe in, a bed i want to sleep in, with rumpled sheets and dirty pillows at my feet. the bus can crash and burn for all i care.
You say the word
You know I will find you
Or if you need some time
I don't mind
I don't hold on
To the tail of your kite
midnight. another face, another struggle. the walls are talking, and they are talking loud with tv signals channeling a message far from what i would like to hear.
the spin is unintelligible, the message is lost, the news inspires a yawn.
when one is halfway up, one is always halfway down, as a song i love goes. you don't hold on when that happens.
I'm not like the
But I believe I'm worth coming home to
it might take the rain to bring you where you really want to be. or maybe something less metaphorical, like a cab. or a plane.
but why speed headlong into a world where one doesn't have meaning?
Kiss away night
This
With butterflies
So go on and fly then boy
i love airplanes. when they are flying above head, and their engines are screaming in pain. they are ambitious in defying gravity.
but can love, spurned, do the same?
2 Comments:
thats just beautiful. :)
thank you. :D
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