coming home...

finally..i am coming home.

the weather is not that good as i do this, and yet in a couple of hours i would be going back to where i came from.

pages of memories were filled up here...and i would be thanful for them.

iligan is a girl/woman/mother/priestess kind of city.

i am sure gonna miss this place...and my room..and her...

---- cheesy i guess, but the only works i wrote while im here...

Songs for Jacqueline

Song i

The days, the days have flown and blown
Like dry leaves on the last day of autumn,
And soon there will be a winter in my heart;
A winter whose first flecks of snow would fall
The moment my steps lead me to where I belong

I will soon be there where you are not

There is magic in being
a stranger in a garden such as yours—
I roamed these strange paths, losing myself
In its splendor of fresh fruits and bright colors.
Little by little I trained my tongue
To trace words as you do with your own.

I waited, and watched, and immersed myself
Among these waters where you belong
While my soul longed to find its heart,
Only to find my own heart, my own soul
Filled with longings
Filled with images of you
As if knowing you would lead me
To discover much more than just the face
Of this city whose arms have welcomed me.

5:09 pm pala-o, iligan
24 November 2004

Song ii

With my blackened heart
I have never seen an angel,
Yet even if I should never
I need no visions of halos and wings
To believe in One
who created all sorts of things;
the wide spread blanket of the sky, the stars,
a flower in bloom and dew on the grass
for you are there, among all of his things

I remember your voice
Of how your tongue weaved
The currents of air and space
So I may listen while I witness
How your eyes were
Twin silent and still pools
Deep as the night when only a few stars
Dare to reveal their light to mortal eyes
From so far away and yet warm
Like the fires of your smile
Who crept from the horizon of your lips.

I remember, and I dare not forget
Of how you belong among the colors and shapes,
Of how your presence kindled those around you,
And I watched you, for that was all that I could do,
While my memory turned page after page
Filled with your lines, your color, your shape.

Poet I call myself but the world calls me a fool,
One among the few who are dying everyday.
But absence is the price for those who live,
I know, and I am willing to pay
for these blinks of my eyes each filled
with the knowing that I do not know you,
amidst the sadness that it is.

I have never seen angels and perhaps
I will never discover you for who you really are,
Know what lies beneath
Your voice, your smile, your eyes
And yet I would give a smile
For what I now have, pieces of you,
Even on the moment
Before I forever lose my breath
and close my eyes.

5:35 pm pala-o, iligan
24 November 2004

Song iii

Home, the memory of home tugs at my heart, whispering to my ears the words in a voice I shall never forget, nor regret. It pulls me, like planets and stars do with each other, holding me in place, in space, floating to chart uncharted maps, in orbit.

I do not belong in iligan.

And yet, in this garden that is sometimes a jungle to my senses, whose shadows and shapes and colors I am still to recognize while clothed in morning light or starlight, I find something in the blossoms carried by the winds. The air here is filled with fragments I cannot name yet ones I would like to discover.

I am nothing more than a boy/man/lover/poet/vagabond.

And this city is a girl/woman/mother/priestess.

And I find myself on my knees, lips chanting an invocation of silence, as if the flutter of my lips would bring my thoughts to some secret place whose blossoms would flutter themselves to where I am now.

10:17 am pala-o, iligan
25 November 2004

and i met jacqueline...

i met someone a few days back. i was with friends, enjoying the waters of one of timoga's resort, jusy trying to blend in, letting my eye wander from figure to figure, linger and fling to the colors and shapes,a ll moving, all alive around me.

and then something happened...i saw her... and somehow i found the courage to take steps towards where she was..and talked...


<= there used to be a pic of her here, and it took a good friend to remind me of my folly, thanks uga!=>

and for someone who is very good at words..why is it that i cannot find, or im afraid to put down words that might not suffice for what i really wanna say? a poet who has lost his words... i know its bad, losing words, but in this case, all i could do is smile...

and attempt to write what i could never write in here...

will i see her again? or the question is..will she see me again?

still alive..and enjoying it

im still in iligan..and i guess i have been enjoying that somehow, i got to take myself off from the pc.

normal routine of the days:

wake up at about 11 a.m.

eat lunch.

drink coffee, write, play pc games, soundtrip,feed myself...until about 3 a.m.

sleep.

not bad huh?

i know this will end...but i earned the right to enjoy this, so i guess im taking it slow...

about the eyecandies that i find? well, i sure do make free time for that. i love this place!

out here...

admittedly, i do miss zamboanga city.

its only my second day here in iligan, and yes, i do miss good ole hometown. and yet, im also glad to be here.

damn internet is cheap. 10 bucks. and super fast.

food is good.

clean air.

lots of roads.

lots of women.

what?

and yes, though i miss zamboanga, the sight of one of God's finest creation makes the distance worthwhile.

i do not know if i am blind, but brothers, i wish you were here to check out the:

Merchandise! Merchandise! Merchandise! Merchandise!Merchandise!

Eyecandy! Eyecandy! Eyecandy! Eyecandy! Eyecandy! Eyecandy!

im trying to fight the urge, you know, me trying to be goodie goodie and all those stuff..and i hope i would...fail...

see you...gotta go somewhere muna... =)

for whom the bell tolls?!

grim thoughts....

a few nights ago, someone took time with me and warned me to watch my back. that someone was out there to hurt me. that somebody, i guess, wants me dead. said person, who i assume is a she, told me she was gonna keep me informed. No, she did not tell me who she was, only that she was a friend.

of course, it could be the enemy itself warning me. why warn me?! well, just to fuck me up in the brain, sort of a random move that would leave me in a quandry. i would do that if i wanted to hurt someone, deception veing an important tool of every war.

of course, it could also be some weird people who somehow got to zero in on me amidst the great universe of cyberspace, got a lock on who i really am behind the name and decided to have some wicked fun. i dont do stuff like these, but others might. and perhaps have.

but the person, she, knew a name i once used, a name that caused a lil bit of storm about a year ago. she must know me.

but the point is this, someone made a warning, or a threat perhaps. whoever did it, whethet true or false, does not really matter. the more important question is: is there a reason why someone should hurt me, harm me, even perhaps, kill me?

Yes. there is.

i could at least think of two people who would want me dead.

one of them whom my remaining friends fondly joke as my "best friend".

the other is someone who was really my best friend before we learned to betray each other real good. of course, she doesn't have to kill me cause im doing a better job of that than any one could ever think of. or perhaps someone close to her, someone who wants the memory of me to remain a few feet below the ground.

or perhaps, its someone i have no idea about.

i have always said that everything ends, sooner o later. i couldnot die, not yet, not with a book out there to compensate for my existence in the fringes of life. and most friends know how i would die when i get that book out.

but, if i ever meet a gruesome death in the next 3 months or so, then you could say i knew it all along.

one more thing, i don't like back stabbers. i dont wanna watch my back. if you wanna kill me, face me, and lets dance.

and never too young or old to start and...

well, here's the latest scoop.-------------

its over.

yup, it is over, and it ended in a fashion that i could only say, hmm, damon steine style. and in this case, it was an ugly ending, bloody without without the stains of blood, loud with the silence that is born afterwards.

there is though one thing that i should have made clear, that i dont play games. i go for the jugular, so to speak. i dont take no bullshit and i dont give any. and i do say what is on my mind.

i do love women, too much. and yes, i respect them a lot. ask my 13 sisters. but even though, i still dothe things that have to be done, and these are things that somehow hurt.

its a dirty job when you have to clean up things, but it needs to be done.

and yeah, i gave her the space to tell her bf first. and she did. now its my turn to face my friend. i should have done it earlier, yesterday that is, but i got stuck with only enough fare to go home. but i will say my piece. only my piece.

and thats that.

gotta a gurl sister? gurl cousin? gurl platonic friend? single or single moms, i love women.

go go go, hitch me!

never too young or old..to make mistakes...

I guess I should say one is never too old, nor too young to go and love someone.

I have always told myself that after taking a lot of women for granted, I have used up my coupons. You see I see this world as a world where the great One handed out coupons, different coupons for different things. You use them up. You can earn new ones. You could also lose all of them and end up with nothing.

And considering the life that I have lived, and ultimately will die off, you could say I use a lot of my coupons. A lot of them. If there is a next life, I might as well have used half of them.

Ask my friends, and they will nod, even perhaps raise a few bottles of beer for me. Though the women and other people on the other side might as well hurl pitchforks and rain fire and brimstones on me.

Anyway, back to where I started.

Wahhhh, meeting someone and then going through that hormonal and emotional rush. Felt so cheesy as I remember them now. They looked like scenes from movies I have seen before (yes, I do watch chick flicks, and I’m comfortable with my so called feminine side, thank you) I wanna tell you the details but you might not believe that I, damon steine, has such a mushy corny lovey dovey side. Hmmm, though thinking about that side, my friends have always pointed out that I am that, and a lot more. Like being a natural flirt. Like using my poetry as baits to trap women.

To cut it short, it was simply..wahhh..words elude me..and to think I pride myself with how I could fashion words and lines to suit my whims!

Now, there’s only one itsy teeny weeny problem.

She is the girlfriend of a close friend. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I am not a poacher. I am not a poacher. I am not a poacher.