Revisiting My Old Self

Have you ever had a moment when you wanted to look back to your own self? Perhaps, to see how you were then and find another way to make sense of all your decisions and experiences. In my case, as I get older, I think I become more sentimental and so I pick up on some of my old works. Whether it is an unfinished story or a forgotten stanza, all of them help me remember the experiences I once had, and even the heart breaks I had to endure.

For this week, here are some of the collections I tried to complete in the past five years, yet until now, they seem lacking with bits and pieces of the emotions and the memories I would have wanted to keep. If you have the time, you may check them out in my tablo page. Hope you like reading them. ❤

Limbo is a collection of poems that I have started, I guess, about four or five years ago. I am not that confident when it comes to writing poetry (I learned this the hard way during my univ days). However, I find writing poetry a relaxing and refreshing experience. I get to challenge myself and learn a thing or two about new concepts. I know that I still have a long way to go, yet that exact thought keeps bringing me back to the process.

I hope that I would be able to do another collection where I can already present a more refined set of techniques while keeping the content close to heart, still. There may be a long way to go from here, but I am hoping for the best.

Now, for the second one (Pagkakataon, Talon!), this is a collection of my writing exercises and writing submissions from my university days. Upon revisiting my works during that time, I can say that I miss my younger self. The one who was brave enough to try sharing her own cluttered thoughts through writing raw ideas into her submission. How I miss that carefree self of mine who was so focused on her craft. What happened years after that? Hmm, perhaps, that is where the last collection comes in.

This last one, Working Girl Conversations, started as just a space where I could share my overflowing worries and exhaustion as a person gradually finding her space as part of the work force. Not exactly sure if the written pieces here truly justifies my experiences, but they do bring back those moments of uncertainty and near-crying concerns of my twenty-something self. Also, the title was made when I wanted to have the book as a passion project with my closest friends. However, sadly, I never really got into planning and executing that process with them. Maybe this year I can find time and focus on completing this collection.

Sunday Reminiscing

Almost a decade after graduating from the university, I found jobs which took most of my days away from the routine I used to enjoy as a young, university student. There are times that I wish to simply go back to the moments when life still does not seem too complicated or even too scary to handle as my days would have been filled with classes and requirements to accomplish. However, I accepted the fact that I may never go back to the past anymore, so I simply tried to find my own space to let my younger and full of dreams self take comfort from the world.

In the search for a new yet still familiar environment, I got to explore various online platforms which I tried to visit regularly. Even with a great desire to simply start writing, I got caught up with the fear of not doing anything great. I ended up forgetting about my dreams and I stopped improving my skills. Yet, it is a good realization that I once was in a position where I could dream and enjoy the calming yet also devastating process of writing. Now, should I wish to look back into that part of myself, then I have the different online works I published to check.

It may not even be too late to pick up this routine again and simply get lost in my own thoughts and imaginations; greet my old friends who I try to engage with in my stories. Maybe I will just revisit and revise some of the works to feel that certain adrenaline in putting ideas together and witnessing a body of work come alive. Perhaps, I will get there someday. If not, then here are still the places I can go to for a look into my past self.

Tablo.io ~ A place where I attempted to compile my works and even start a novel. Most of them remain unchanged since I started putting them together. Surely, a sad reality.

TheProse.com ~ Mostly a space for my attempt in writing poetry. It has been an interesting avenue to work on various challenges with prompts that help in establishing a good starting off point for my writing.

Hubpages.com ~ I tried practicing my web content skills in uploading numerous posts here. I might need to try my hand at this kind of topics again to keep me updated with the different web content needs.

Finale

Waves of thinning memories rush to shore
Surprising me with a thunderous roar
Reminding, remembering for the last time
Before drowning into the dark side

Flashes of familiar faces
Whispers of lovely voices
I know them.
I knew them.
But now, I’m losing every bit of them

Little by little, then
All at once
Drops of water everywhere
Gathered together
Sending me off to my final bed

Soft, white cushion
A shiny cover
With sweet smelling flowers
Thrown above

Remembering

Saying good bye.


Originally posted at https://theprose.com/jmasalgado

Crystal Clear Blur

Genuine smiles come rarely,
Everyone takes their time
Differences shine brighter than ever before

Once the clock strikes three in the morning
The elegant moon bids her farewell, 
The sun risks another early greeting

This, after all, is a unique and mysterious place

It’s crystal clear
The blur between then and now
A life worth living
Gladly becomes a crazy ride

This, after all, is a unique and mysterious place


Originally posted at https://theprose.com/jmasalgado

Mindless, Boundless

Why so serious? 
The veins in your hands keep tapping
Reminding you of daybreak
You pick a fork to cut them out
But, they keep fighting for life

Why so serious again?
Bothered by the sound of the wind
Reminding you of your own breathing
You block the windows with iron bars
But, the wind whistles through the gaps

Why, you ask again?
With open eyes, you see the sunrise
Reminding you of yesterday’s miseries
You pick a chair to stop the memories
But, you heard a knock, once and twice

Why are you smiling now?
A stranger’s voice passes through the wall
“Hello? Is anyone there?” 
You want to say hi
But, you could only tap the wall once
“Good. Let’s be friends for a while.”

Why smiling looks good now?
You kicked the chair to the side
Pressed your face to the wall
Listened to the wind from the gaps
Felt the tapping of your veins
Followed the rhythm of the other one’s breathing

Good. 
Count to three.
Why so serious?

Lettuce of Love

Red roses turn dark all over
Leaves fall on the grounds
Heavy footsteps approach
With the crisp break of dry leaves
It’s the season again of cleaning up
And making quick deals
To see the colors of red,
Blue, and purple all around

Pack all the songs of youth
For a strength unknown
Bring the lively drums
Of the beating heart of a child
For today is another day
Of lovemaking of gods
When one tells the other
To hide all the colors
Under a shirt or two
And keep the mystery of love

Prism

As tiny bits of red petals fill the empty jars

The air fills up with the stench of yesterday’s death

With the crowd quickly crowding above the town

Children start going out of their little boxes

Pushing their way up the slopes of deserted land

They step cautiously with their mouths shut

Their tiny feet soak with the blackish mud

They scan the place left in the aftermath

As one by one they see familiar colors of the past

They rush with quiet steps towards the pile

A glimmer of blue, yellow, and blue pop up

Yet they are all touched by the red spots

Others got a bit darker now after the first blow

But the children didn’t know as they poked the colors

“Mama?,” one of the little children said

“Papa?,” the others call from the far left

Hiling

Hindi lang sa Quiapo nakikinig ang butihing Maykapal
Minsan sa paglalakad ay may Aleng makapagtatanggal
Sa mga munting itinatagong sugat, siya’y may itatapal
Ilahad lang palad at uuwi ka nang may bagong dangal

Huminga at itigil muna ang iyong mahabang paglalakad
Marahang ibukas at ipakita ang linya ng iyong kanang palad
Umupo sa silya at maghintay sa tapat ng mesang malapad
Na dala lagi ng Aleng bihasa na sa ganitong pamamalakad

Kung di pa sapat, itanong ang laman ng iyong isipan
Maiging magmasid nang iyong lubos na maunawaan
Ang misteryong ipinagdiriwang sa harapan ng simbahan
Buksan ang mga mata sa dalang tunay na kasagutan

Kung itong mga pagbasa ay hindi pa rin sasapat
May isa pa namang baon ang Ale na maaaring ipangtapat
Sa kung ano pa mang kailangan ng iyong pagsisipat
Inaakalang ang sagot ay nagpapalaki lang sa mga lamat

Pula, berde, dilaw, ano ang kulay ng iyong kahilingan?
Pumili lang sa may Aleng nakaabang sa iyong harapan
Tiyak na ang isip mo ay unti-unting malilinawan
Sa panalangin mo kasi ang mga kandila ay may dalang kasagutan

Snaps, Shots, and Shakes hands

Moonlight draws the crowd closer to the sound
Searching for shadows eaten by the nearby ground
Was it a cry or a scream of a boy who has yet to be found
By the party taking snaps of tears falling on the mound

This is the day, the last of summer as they say
People should be jumping for joy and not dismay
But it seemed like November has come early this May
As the shots are heard on the colorful end of day

Tiny steps walk towards the tiny gaps above
A growing smudge of red fills the cover of the glove
Worn by a person smiling, showing some love
Who later cleans his hand as he shakes the escaping dove

Wednesday Poetry

It seems like a late start, but I hope to bring life back to my blog. I haven’t written anything in the past couple of months as I simply tried to find better ways to adjust to my teaching job. Now, I will try to begin a new routine to bring myself back to writing. I hope to continue with this. As a first, let me leave this one here:

Good Morning