you squeezed
the juice drop
into my mouth:
tantalizingly sweet.
selfish.
that was all you gave
when before
you promised me
an orange.
Saturday, December 3, 2005
not from concentrate.
Thursday, December 1, 2005
an ax to grind.
i am soft wood
your prized possession.
against your palm i rest
while you make your decision.
you gently whittle away
in the dark.it's the best time, you say.
shaping me the way you want me to be:
and for you darling, anything
an outlet, a plug
the spout of your water bottle
the raspberries of your mouth
your snuff jar
and your jam box
the graceful arch of a neck.
not mine, but someone else's.
the exit sign.
until you've gently whittled me all away
until you finally get what you want
a stick
a pick
and with a flick
we take the morsel away.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
exhuming ophelia.
it was all
constellated squabble
the marks on his hand-
i still remember.
the staring game
i never lost.
the unblinking eyes
are claimed winner:
the crowds
murmur and whisper
as she walks
to the stand
to be judged.
all hail
the damned infernal lover.
in the penalty box.
the christmas songs are playing and the decorations are slowly finding their way to the front porch and the family room. there's a bucket of triple crown cookie dough in the freezer waiting to be baked and a tin of holiday cookie cutters just waiting for me and A to be broken in. in a week and a half my exams will be done and i will finally be a free woman. i have a semi to attend and to dress up for and a bunch of christmas gatherings and dinners lined up.
but somehow it seems more lonesome this year. i think that i may have gone backwards instead of forwards...and whatever i've learned this summer may have all gone to waste. it's easier for some people to say that it's just the idea that makes it different. the emotional detritus is finding its way back...the catch basin must be dextrosed to my arm. there's just no vulnerary remedy. and here i am making it worse by writing/typing away and masochistically renting loveydovey movies. i might just raid the fruit bowl.
Saturday, November 26, 2005
deafeningly stupid.
the things you say just reach their ears and dissipate before they get to the brain for further processing.
i would like to propose a toast to the stupid men of the world. congratulations. you have successfully made our lives a living hell.
i, melissa.
i am misjudged quite often
but have just started to realize
the whole futility
of defending and vindicating myself.
this month is a month of reversion-
a regression to my old self:
my hand paralyzed in fear, unable to raise itself in class,
being my uncontrollable temperamental bitchy self
procrastinator and jack of all trades-
i leave things i have to do at the last minute
and do everything else i'm not supposed to perfectly.
there never seems to be anymore money left in my card,
where does it all go? you wonder.
but we know exactly where it goes.
in the closet and in the stomach.
staring out the window again or into space
waiting and expecting and dreaming.
a month of new discoveries-
my newfound appreciation for english drama
and for the playwrights who embraced their grief
and turned it into art
discovering the inner beauty of people
and the dull sheen of the gold in others
mr noodles as the veritable meal
for the struggling hungry university student
viva as the most comfortable bus and busride ever
capers are salty but really good
with smoked salmon omelette.
that my cat, no matter how much he wants to stay outside
will always come running back.
and that however much j'essaie d'oublier,
c'est impossible.
Monday, November 21, 2005
table manners.
the glass slides towards the edge of the kitchen table
it was headed that way anyway.
ill-used and chipped in some places,
its porcelain sheen gone a long time ago
looks more jaded now than that shade of green.
a receptacle of dirty watered down dreams and stale juicy secrets
sold as its own set
tragically and sadly unique
yet as common as the common whore.
but the glass moves on its own.
not just one hand, but millions of taunting hands guide it.
as a lighthouse calls the boats to safety,
they usher it to its final escape.
just a bit further. a bit more. there.
the tiles look inviting from here.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
the eternal plane ride.
i could see you from outside
my heart pounding as i watched you
ring the bell
i opened the door and you stepped inside
and you drew me close to you
i don't know if it was in your eyes
in your touch
or in your manner of speaking
because i saw through the affectation
and realized that
when you left
you never came back.
Friday, October 21, 2005
descriptive conjugation.
the moon spills its milk
in the dark
illuminating our intertwined fingers
until we're no longer just a sentence,
but the purest form,
the smallest meaningful unit,
no strings attached
an act of simple resonance
a morpheme.
Tuesday, October 18, 2005
forgive us our trespasses.
i apologize
for failing to recognize
the honor and beauty of your profession,
for sticking up my middle finger when you made me late,
for cursing your existence and purpose
in this world,
for shuddering when you came home with dirt in your finger nails,
for resenting you while the others were clean-shaven and suited,
for refusing to listen:
what for. you're merely a hole-maker.
you must have wanted to bury yourself alive
for now as i watch them lower you down into the ground
i realize that i've already dug that hole for you
a long time ago.
hand over the shovel and give me my turn,
let me now scratch the surface;
absolve me of my pride.
Monday, October 17, 2005
reciprocity for as long as we both shall live.
we'll dance
in dimly-lit church basements
to the classics of our time
with a 50-year old disco ball hovering over us.
and i'll remember back in the day
when i sat and watched
and smiledat the exchanges of existence
as if they were all alone,
as they swirled to the music
unaware of the sighing watchful eye.
this will be our happiness:
built by dinner dances in basements,
quiet restaurants with torn leather seats,
moonlight patio dinners,walks in the fall,
good mornings and good nights,
kisses and raspberries,
and a word unspoken but often understood,
and a look that forever redeems.
and as we slowly amble back
to our white plastic chairs
you'll look down at me,
smile and say,
we've still got it.
and i'll lightly punch you jokingly,
as i've always had:
yes indeed.
Friday, October 14, 2005
moi, renversée.
a whisper
spreads a thousand beads
across my spine
my toes
until i have to breathe
quietly
softly
suppressing, repressing
so the tell-tale
oohlala
won't escape my chest,
my mouth,
into your ears
so that your eyes
keep me unfocused.
Saturday, October 8, 2005
to the ones who cry.
i am a patch of green grass, you say.
trodded on but overlooked.
you are, but at least you are not squares of green, lush sod. so appealing but manufactured by the hundreds, a conveyor belt product of the milieu.
realistically artificial.
whereas you, the lone patch, rise up and grow towards the heat of the sun.
you beautify and glorify the vast barren dry. you go unnoticed but are significant.
and one day you will be found...
and that loneliness and preservation that you have undergone throughout your life will be cultivated.
love yourself, patch of green.
for it is through suffering that we find the artist within us,
it is through our loneliness that we become stronger,
and it is through these changes we become more beautiful,
and it is through this interior beauty we are found.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
free-writing.
"it's when you put a pencil in your hand and put the pencil to a paper and you just start writing...you don't think about what you're writing...you don't read over what you're writing...you just keep your hand moving."
boy, what could you be doing right now? my future best friend. who could you be? are you sleeping? are you studying? are you looking for me too? are you waiting just as patiently and impatiently as i am?
the moon sees both of us and nods. all will be right with the world in no time, it says. ah moon. it is all just fitting.
splendid. i must say that i am dying for a rasp of jello smothered with hot chocolate. it is a cool night and autumn's breeze is under the galley while we fret as fretters for lost love and the moon frowns. alas we cannot have all. some of us have to wait forever and they won't ever find the treasure they've buried or the seed they've planted. although it is itching to grow it will be plantless as the fig tree was fruitless and it will be damned and cursed for just plainly existing.
you stand unhappily by the cliffs of crashing waves, melodious and untimely it calls you so you can jump, lapping up the heavens and you sigh a thousand sighs over your breakfast croissant with your coffee spilling over the stiff white linen of the sands of the beaches. you sit on a checkered mat draping yourself across the inlet and you dazzle everyone that sees you sprawled underneath the sun like a bronze coin ready to be picked up and you do not wait to be spent. but my goodness what a life of sadness. waiting for the figure in the setting sun horizon to come closer and closer until it's no longer just a silhouette but an embrace, a passionate kiss. until it's happiness you've found again. now, yes, tuck it away. keept it in the box. and make sure it is its own lock and key. make yourself at home. lock yourself in and imprison yourself in my heart.
did you forget or did you remember but just didn't care?
you are unreedemable.
Friday, September 9, 2005
"if you've got five real friends, you've lead a good life"
according to ralph waldo emerson, "it is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them". and i've got just that, old friends because i've known them for quite a while, and friends that i haven't known long but feel as if we are the oldest and dearest of friends. and mind you, i've had my share of "mel moments", infamously pegged as "stupid thing mel said/did #___".
but since the summer's coming to an end and school has begun, i felt the need to look back on the summer that just passed and reflect on it...as nerdy as that sounds. i must declare this summer as the bestest one so far. i must admit that it came to a rocky and doubtful beginning, but as the summer progressed it became better and better, and it became necessary to capture them all. in society's present standards (and i say this with much sarcasm), my friends and i must be boring and so loser-ish, as what we do when we get together has been called before.
but our methods of "partying it up" are quite different from those of our contemporaries. sure we get drunk and high, but au naturel. conversations on the ttc, walks to the center, cranium, phone conversations, sit down dinners, interesting and mind-boggling conversations, movie themed nights, late night movies, the perusing of chapters, starbucks runs, timmy's runs, seeing friends from school, to name a few, are just some of my summer's highlights. yes, i've stared out the window oftentimes and wish i was somewhere else, basking underneath another country's sun, but in an instant, it would fleet away. home is what you make of it, and my friends have become the intricate stitches that have kept me grounded and sane. one doesn't realize the importance of friendship once it's gone, but i'm glad i never had to go through that. i guess what really made this summer more special and the best ever was because i realized over and over again how empowering and beautiful true friendship is.
Saturday, September 3, 2005
that's enough.
some romantics are humans of contradiction. they know what they want and yet they want what they shouldn't. they know the truth but they choose to imagine and live in an illusory, fantasy world, where everything disappears in one touch, where love is a sugarcoated pill ready to poison whoever is stupid enough to swallow it, foolishly taking it as a panacea for their loneliness and sadness.
they are architects of castles in the air, chasing dreams that lead to the end of the cliff. in their minds they can transform just about anyone in the name of love, but in reality man cannot be induced to change- man only changes for himself. everywhere they go these visionaries constantly need validation, leading an existence so dependent on affection and praise.
ah, to be able to take the mind and just shake it around once and a while to get the idea of love right. back when we were children, when love was just a thing in movies. when love was although inexplicable, it was sure. when love was still something we couldn't wait to experience. when love was something you would only say before you go to bed to your parents. something you couldn't wait to say. but now it's something you'd like to take back, something you'd like to say but can't...it's something you'd like to give away again.
Friday, August 26, 2005
all aboard.
it must be the scenery passing by, the people walking in the streets, trying to figure out what they're thinking. it must be that girl in front of you, lighting up in pathological euphoria when she gets a call on her cell. it must be that guy beside you, looking out the window, so intense in his concentration- what or who could he be thinking of? it must be the couple just a few rows in the front- happy, having a serious conversation and once in a while the guy tweaks at the girl's nose. it must be that annoying exhibitionist in the back, going on and on with much gusto about how great his girlfriend is.
and so is the effect of the train...it makes you hate because you want what you don't and can't have. you come on board with no baggage at all, and you get off with a heavy ass one in your heart.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
wallmarkers and growth charts.
my parents were never really into marking how tall my siblings and i have gotten, because making marks on a wall was unthinkable. it was usually pants or shirts that were tell-tale signs that we were physically growing; they would be too tight or too short.
but that other kind of growing up, usually takes a bunch of tiny realizations or gatherings with people to see how "tall" you have become...or how stunted you are.
why such pensiveness? i guess it's because, apart from my siblings and high school friends, i've grown up with another set of family...the st. cinn girls. this afternoon we held our first ever st. cinn bbq/potluck at terri's house and as always, it was fun and with lots of maniacal laughter. but it was different from the other ones we've had since i felt, and im sure the other girls felt it too, a sense of an end.
it's awesome to think that it was because of this parttime job that we are all close like sisters, and that is why i came home feeling weirdly sad...we were all getting old and it is unstoppable- it has begun; we are all moving forward.i know that growth and change happen everyday, but it was so much more imminent and obvious tonight, what with one of us going off to university to live on her own, and another who's going to have her own classroom and reading corner. through their changes in their lives, it made me think of my own future-my excitement to have my own classroom as well and to have in my hands the tiny minds of the grown-ups of tomorrow. and to think that when i first came i was in gr 11: bumbly, stupid and clumsy with the buns, very much slow with the dishes, still wary of others, sort of foolish, not a lot of wisdom just yet, and still need to see a lot of the world- and by world i mean the awaiting experiences. so much have changed and a bit has remained the same: i am now quite an expert with the buns, i now hold, and at times begrudgingly, the key to the store and the responsibility to count cash, but still a bit stupid, a bit clumsy, and i could never have enough wisdom. as well, i have made some of the greatest friends i could ever have. despite the very rude customers and the gruelling clean up (haha), we saw each other through our highs and lows: getting into university and college, falling in love, break-ups, our successes and failures in school, and much more. we are a unique set: some crazier than others, some much more talkative, some quite violent (ahem belinda). we've had so many memorable moments. there was a lot of talking, blasting music, popcorn snacks, christmas dinners, birthday cards, racing to the back away from the penny lady, etc. and now, i'm saying good bye to one of the girls who trained me when i first came, and another to a girl that i've trained myself.
one by one we have begun the trek on our own stretch of road. we are in a sense growing taller, and unlike our growth spurt, this spiritual and interior growth will never stop. our wall markers and growth charts will keep surpassing, and although it's never easy to welcome change, the bond between us girls that grew stronger over the years, will definitely be hard to break.
i love you girls.
Friday, August 12, 2005
zit-ous compensation.
definiting zit-ous compensation:'zit E-&s "käm-p&n-'sA-sh&n
as a means of counteracting variation, some people stand on soap boxes, high up on their pedestals where they've proudly mounted themselves, with their noses high up, sniffing the air around them. they stand there pointing and punctuating, they cannot look in their own mirror of truth because they are afraid. because deep down, they see their own tangle of past and present mistakes.and seeing as they've dabbed that drop of foundation on their protuberant zit,they then resume to laugh at other people's faces.
Tuesday, August 9, 2005
strange boy.
when we're done being stupid and quiet, maybe it can happen.
maybe if we grew up a bit, learned more and waited.
so many things that need to be said and kept quiet until they're ready to surface.
so much understanding, linked up, telepathic and weird.
eyes that lock and wish could rest that way.
echoing plangent melodies reverberating and are played over and over again...
each note memorized. we know how to sing it, but refuse to.
the cadence brings us forward, but each daring step does not pacify.
the volcano will errupt before we know it and it'll send out a host of fireworks into the sky,
we are hypnotized, enthralled, enchanted, spellbound.
it surges and quells simultaneously. x marks the spot.
and it is found.
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