A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid anymore.

 -John Steinback

East of Eden


An Old Poem

This poem was written a very long time ago with much hesitation to put it out there. I showed a good friend the piece the other day and he boosted my confidence by telling me how honest and mature the poetry is; so here I am sharing it with the few beautiful souls who even know and care to always check on this blog. My introverted nature always prefers to be behind the scenes and to not be “too out there” even as I share this here, I abhor advertising it in other social medias, particularly Facebook. It’s like announcing to the world: Hey Look what I did! I know it’s great and works well for people who do this professionally (and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that) but sometimes I see it as a form of wanting attention (it’s just my opinion no offense) which I shy away from often. It’s just the way God molded  me haha; unless I’m really drunk and drugged which is not a good thing, then I’m so out there! Anyway, I was going to share my poetry from 2012 and stop talking about myself. I’ll save that for other entries.


Like the magnificence and purity of a lotus

Growing from the murkiest and most stagnant of waters

My soul has been replenished

Emerging from the hands of stubborn devils


A rock, endures cutting, friction, years of shaping

Drilling the hardest cores of its foundation

Before a shiny diamond is made from it

What beauty will there be without sacrifice?


Glorious are ones who suffer

Meaning is embraced and enfolded to their character

What a bore it is to live in this world

To have never experienced hell


How can one imagine of paradise if not for its counterpart?

– Carla Ezequiel

My poem reminds me of one picture I stumbled upon in Tumblr today which words are also a beauty:


Sound of Silence


Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls”
And whispered in the sounds of silence