to be or not to be
to live or to die
the thick coat of my transgression conclaves within me
what if all I am is what I’ve done?
All I speak, act, and experience
what if all I am is nothing more than a vessel
a lesson to be learned
A body to be craved
A complex tapestry woven within threads of identity action and perception
you take your foot off my throat for just a second
just enough to allow me to come up for air
Delving into the core of what it means to be human
Take a journey with me
Into the eyes of a stranger
How appealing it would be
Spending just a second of precious time
To notice a connection
To indulge in discovery
Look beyond the caption
Read more into the soul
Listen to a heartbeat
Rise above the insecurity
Shine bright
Take the wheel
Let the drive take your breath away
Step up to the challenge
Accept the faults
Navigate the trauma
And you will find the eye of the storm.
The calmness that is true love.
200.
My 31st Leaf
Obtained thee from up
Just a second gap
For years with a crowd
Holy float enshroud
“San Enchero” leaf
From a man on top
Near the icon's lap
Devotee clusters
Among churchgoers
Near highschool classmates
It's a holy day
It is Good Friday
At early evening
After float blessing
Twenty-Ninth of March
About church in front
Diagonal slant
Where people gather
Here banwa proper
One of the last floats
It's memorable
For I was able
To effortless pick
Now's so very quick
About one second!
-03/29/2013
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
We’ve had our ups and downs
You’ve set your boundaries
You’ve set your walls
I was able to knock them down for just a second
See your true self
See how you see yourself
I wanted to see you glow
Watch you blossom into the beautiful flower you were ment to be
Watch you grow into the woman I want to marry
No words can describe the pain I feel
I should’ve held you hand more
Bought you flowers more
Take you out more
Hug you tightly
Kiss you any chance I get
Change my ways for the better
Change not just for you,
But for me too
I’m glad you came in
But now it’s sad all I have is your memory
Betrayal is a quiet thing at first,
a whisper behind a smile,
a handshake that lingers just a second too long
while the knife is already picked out.
It doesn’t crash through the door
like anger or grief.
It slips in politely,
wipes its feet,
and sits at your table like it belongs there.
You replay the moments later,
the laughs, the promises, the “I’ve got you.”
Each memory turns inside out,
like photographs soaked in water
until the faces blur into strangers.
The worst part isn’t the loss.
It’s the rewrite.
The way yesterday suddenly feels fake,
like you were reading a book
and discovered half the pages were forged.
Trust doesn’t shatter loudly.
It fractures like ice under snow,
one step, then another,
and only when you’re falling
do you hear the crack.
Yet somehow,
in the cold space left behind,
you learn the shape of your own spine.
You stand a little straighter,
a little quieter,
and far more aware
of who earns a seat at your table next time.
They tell me you’re the fixing man,
so can you fix me too?
Can you check my engine light?
I think I’ve blown a fuse.
Can you turn your ear this way
just a second more?
Can you tell me I’m not tainted,
like how I was before?
Please weld my body, make me new;
I need new tires too.
They’re all worn out and rugged now—
I hope that’s not taboo.
Maybe it’s my head gasket—
don’t ask what that’s been through.
I’ll need a filter—sorry, it’s gone bad;
I say what it wants me to.
My doors are all jammed up,
but know they used to work just fine.
I once tried to get them fixed,
but wouldn’t trade my time.
My windshield has been broken;
I can’t remember how.
I just want to get it fixed,
so could you try it now?
I’m just asking for some tuning up;
I swear I’ll leave soon after.
Please make me better, fixing man—
will you be my crafter?
Like a time bomb ready to explode
What be a man except what is washed away
Like a wave beats the ocean sands
Change of time can change whole man
Soul in search of itself what does it see
Despair of a journey that makes his strength
Or the demise of life he finds his grave
It is of the heart beats our breath
Spiritual being like all species with purpose
What is beauty that love does not exist
What is a man if not themselves thrive to be
Is one not dead in their depths darkness appears
Battle of good vs evil which you choose
Lost in misty fog, what light be your inspiration
Belief to his existence finds trouble trails
But he gives not up his strive to breathe
Reaching in, ticking man; just a second of a gasp
Awakening, sea of stars filled with dreams
Light on the waters beneath moonlight beam
Heavens open door shinning light from within
Ti cerco, watching behind dark eyes sleeping
Jesus keep me near the cross my cries
I'm just a man whose time is ticking away
In the sweet spring air,
We love a long walk.
I fancy he listens
As I blabber and talk.
I playfully sigh
Once we come in the door —
Someone’s muddy paws
Have painted the floor.
In the hot summer air,
We drive to the beach.
He pulls off my flip flop,
And runs out of reach.
As dusk settles in,
He nips at a firefly;
While never successful,
He loves to just try.
In the brisk fall air,
I need time to breathe,
But he begs, “one more time,
Throw my ball to retrieve!”
When I bring out the pumpkin,
He wants his fair share.
I say, “down boy, down!”
But he acts unaware.
In the cold winter air,
Snow lands on his face . . .
Just a second of calm —
Then a squirrel to go chase!
Only back inside does he now shake off,
Melting snow and frost cascading.
I groan but deep down I know:
What makes his personality his own
Are his quirks and irks,
Misdeeds and misleads,
Imperfection but true affection,
That I would, of course, never consider trading.
The sun is intense this morning
I am wearing my husband’s black sweatshirt
No bra
Just me and the shirt
And my flannel pajama pants
I am not a Neanderthal
If I were younger, I would take off the shirt
Wait
I live in the country
No one comes here
Just a second
A crescent moon dangles in the distance,
whilst meteors jet across Prussian blue heavens,
leaving trails of grey ash in their wake.
An abnormal, elongated silence creeps through threadbare trees,
as an imperceptible breeze skims past my hair,
causing, for just a second, déjà vu—
a flutter between my muffled heart and a crushing ribcage
jolts me back.
Never-ending, frayed nerves keep me on edge;
the taste of insufferable copper taints my tongue.
Spitting it out—only for it to return,
haunting me like your last words,
replicating, repeating nightmares,
eating into my wailing brain.
That night: the broken glass,
shattered mirrors, overturned tables,
blood-sheathed floors—
became our point of no return.
We wear the wind without knowing
who it belonged to before.
A coat of yesterday’s anger,
today’s kindness sewn in the lining.
Faces blur at the edges—
the barista is your brother,
the stranger at the bus stop
holds your childhood in their eyes
for just a second.
We revolve through doorways
where names change
but the silence between words
feels familiar.
One day you are the voice,
another day, the echo.
Interwoven shadows—we circle each other
Actors before a shattered mirror,
forgetting who plays whom
and whose cue it is.
There is something behind it all—
not watching,
not judging,
but weaving.
The thread runs through all of us,
and tightens
when we pull away.
--- Christopher Johnston
I will order in just a minute.
If there’s grilled cheese, I want in on it.
Or maybe I could have some fries.
Which is on the menu to my surprise.
I enjoy a burger on some days.
But maybe not Mondays.
I want mustard on my shirt.
And guacamole on my skirt.
As long as I am full.
I don’t mind the messy toll.
I will order in just a second now.
This lemonade is already making me go “Wow!”
I asked what he recommended.
He says the fish is splendid.
In 15 minutes my order came out.
I wanted to see the delicious food he was talking about.
The fish was good, I took a bite.
But then I felt a new plight…
At the table next to me, a man ordered chicken.
I felt the plot start to thicken.
It looked so good, I wished for a bite.
I had to hold back with all my might.
As the man walked to the bathroom.
I felt sad in this dining room.
I snuck over and stole a little of his food.
It wasn’t much, so it wouldn’t ruin his mood.
But he came back to the table too fast.
I was chewing the chicken with his eyes overcast.
I told him the chicken was just ok.
But I’m glad I ordered the fish today.
It will be there in the morning
It will be there at night
Pull on your boxing gloves
And swing with all your might
You hit hard
Though it’s never enough
Be on your guard
Things are about to get rough
A never ending battle
With that unseen enemy
In your head words rattle
Words like addiction, abuse, poverty
You will attempt to run and hide
Yet there is no escape
Across country or worldwide
Do not underestimate
The power of this curse
Ease up for just a second
The situation might get worse
Nevertheless my strength is unreckoned
This malediction ends here
It ends with mine
I no longer will fear
This curse has died this time
It will be there in the morning
It will be there at night
Don your boxing gloves
And swing with all your might
You hit hard
Though it’s never enough
Be on your guard
Things are about to get rough
A never ending battle
With that unseen enemy
In your head words rattle
Words like addiction, abuse, poverty
You will attempt to run and hide
Yet there is no escape
Across country or worldwide
Do not underestimate
The power of this curse
Ease up for just a second
The situation might get worse
Nevertheless my strength is unreckoned
This malediction ends here
It ends with mine
I no longer will fear
This curse has died with time
I never break when I'm with you
When we're close, there is no way to lose
Just a second, can we listen through?
Please hear my truth
Happiness is a day with you,
as the world changes in the way we move
Just a second is enough to sweep you off your feet again;
know if you fall, I'll have my arms out
'Cause when you're lying next to me
It's easier to figure the hardest parts of life out
As I breathe you in
The nights we shared, I'd like to live again
Seemed like seconds that would never end
Can we pretend?
Let's stop the clock
to redraw our futures in sidewalk chalk
Stretching the moments when our eyes lock
By showing the world how much it can mean;
to find the beauty of time in every block...
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