Despite living
supplying myself with cement
, steel and disgust...
Despite building me
daily verbiage walls,
I'm in a light spirit...
always ready to burst
in songs and laughter...!
I perceive
the brilliancy of the day
here in my heart...
I do not sight,
eclipse in the night
with my soul
joyful... !
I don't sense the weight
of time with my
creative mind...
I do not discern
the evil of the world,
with my mind
positivist... !
I can remember her face in my dream.
Her feature is somewhat brave, prominent jaw line and thick brows but pretty.
She’s taller than me; her face was so vivid in my dream.
Built is bigger though not fat, just big.
I can almost paint her if I just know how.
The woman I married in my dream.
She was wearing maroon floral long blouse or something Malaysian like.
But with hijab, wow what a wonderful dream!
She’s submissive and positivist.
Too opposite with her features
That she just took my reprimands, lightly.
She's so clear to me.
I am feeling she exists.
I just don't know from what era or where.
But in my dream, it was her who went to me for a marriage.
And that I've been waiting.
Indeed weird!
She was walking in a foot bridge coming to me.
She is with a guy, probably her brother or cousin.
But not seem to be her dad though.
Oh my wife in a dream!
But I forgot when I was dreaming!
I just knew that she's Tausug because we both speak in Sinug.
But grew up and raised somewhere here.
I do hope I find her. That’s it.
But some of my dreams come true.
Good luck to me!
This is a story of someone’s dream named FS and shared to me.
Atheism wakes
The world floods all his senses
Drenched gray newspaper
Earth closes its doors
Positivist hypercube
He calls it no God
Belief awakens
The world floods all his senses
Drenched gray newspaper
Earth closes its doors
Positivist hypercube
He sees light through cloud
And hope in the blood
Temptation a winding brook
In which we all bathe
Mosquito must prey
Or die, and die anyway
No simple answers
But how much wiser
Must we be than mosquito!
We can opt for faith!
Blood-red newspapers
A dove’s song stirs baby hymns
I choose to believe
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