Personal ANNecdotes

Personal ANNecdotes - Creative Non-Fiction - My Personal Blackhole.

                                                                                                                                           Marso 19, 2011
Muling mananatali sa pamilyar na sulok,
Sa pamilyar na espasyong ibig na maluklok.
Kung saan payapang magsasalimbayan ang mga alon,
At kusang yayakap sa mga ulap ang mga ibon.

Sabay sa saliw ng mga dahong sumasayaw sa hangin,
Unti-unting ibubulong ang mga alaala’t damdamin.
Nilumot ma’t naluoy mananatili pa rin,
Ang katapata’t kadalisayan nitong dalangin.

Saan nga ba dadalhin ng nakaraan?
Bumubulong sa hangin at sa kawalan.
Ibig kong makasama ang mga alaala,
Sa kabila ng pangungulila’t pag-iisa.

Tanda ko pa ang sulok kung saan ka nakita,
Kung sa’n huling nasilayan ang ngiti sa’yong mukha.
Tila ba ika’y anghel na mamamaalam na,
Kakampay ang mga pakpak tungo sa Ama.

Sana ay sinabi mong ito na ang huli,
Baka sakaling nagmadali’t sa’yo’y sinabi,
“Hintay lang, ‘wag ka namang magmadali,”
“Atin ang oras na ito, dito ka sa ‘king tabi.”

Ngunit huli na, ‘pagkat ikaw ma’y ‘di wari,
Ito na ang huli, ang huli mong ngiti.
Sa mga akda ka na lamang makakasama,
Sa piling ng mga tula tahimik na luluha…

-- Raphaelle (I. N. J.)

( Haven't listened to my muse's song for a long time. I guess, I never really had the time to write down my thoughts on a piece of paper like I always did. But just for a change, I want the letters and I to become one. A writer never ceases to continue pursuing his craft.

Though, one might have chosen a different path, the muse will continue calling for the writer to come back.

This time, I know, the letters and I are intertwined, like two souls interconnected for the rest of time. I long to be one with the letters, capture her every scent and memoir. I long to listen to my hidden thoughts, repressed angry, suppressed tears.

This is I, the writer, the artist, crafting yet another romance with the pen and the paper. I guess, I will never have that special someone. This is the tragic fate of the writer -- longing for a romance that can never be owned, not then, not now, even for an eternity.

So then, let me be buried with my own letters and make a romance out of them. Because I know this is the closest link I have to you.

In pace requiescat.

I offer this art to you -- my dream and my muse.)

2 comments:

nice post... :D

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About Me

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++ literary emo ++ lover of Apollo ++ MISANTHROPIST ++ certified INTROVERT! ++ writer ++ lover of letters ++ lunatic ++ descendant of Thanatos ++ rival of Nyx ++ archenemy of Hypnos ++ reader between the lines ++ fantasizes of visiting the Louvre Museum someday ++ wishes to defeat Marco Polo's record on circumnavigation ++ daydream traveler ++ gothic muse ++ dark angel ++ mental succubus ++ walang pakialam sa mundo (maliban sa mga taong importante sa akin)++ HATER OF PRETENSION ++ artistic ++ autistic ++ may sariling mundo ++ creator of her universe ++ loyal

On Raphaelle's Wings

RAPHAEL is one of the seven guardian angels who protect mankind and follow God's plans.

While some people believe that he was the angel meant to give luck to cockfighters and betters, Raphael was actually there to guide and heal the brokenhearted.

Thus, Raphael meant "God heals."


This is my corner amongst the sea of many identities and characters.

This blog contains the many thoughts, questions and ponderings that my mind held for so long.

So, sit back, relax and prepare to take a flight.

Let Raphaelle's (my female persona) wings take you on a journey beyond compare, to a faraway land you sought to conquer, touch, see and hold.

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