Butterfly Kisses


The sound of rain tapping hard on the roof and the howling wind against the window pane sound like a classical music to her nerves that stimulate all her dying senses. She looked up at him as he drifted off silently. How peaceful you are, she thought, like a sweet child unknown of the harsh blanket clouting your little playground. His shallow breathing formed a light moist against her forehead; sweet and tender with a tinge of grapes. She closed her eyes as she reminisced about how she loved it; nights spent in a cold and dark room as the two of them seek fire from each other’s touch. As though their skins are of great combination to ignite flames through a delicious friction only them could make. She gently skimmed his bare chest with her candle-like fingers, savored every inch of his flesh, every chest hair that seemed like unstrummed guitar strings. She left butterfly kisses on and felt the warmth of his soft lips. Continue reading “Butterfly Kisses”


Glittering Fences


A planet run by certificates,

Approval of the hierarchy,

Nods from the one who officiates,

And a smile from the finest lady.

Continue reading “Glittering Fences”

Not a Single Soul


Never one is happy:

Getting the early worm in the morning,

Catching the first flight in the travel,

Finding the care that’s never there.

Continue reading “Not a Single Soul”

Sonnet #1: The Dreamer

Each passing day she thought of nothing else,
As time unfurled without her knowing it.
She’d let the brightest sun build its shackles,
And held the keys, so stars could beam the grit.

(Posted on July 1, 2015)

Last Tuesday, I was caught up between glances to the classroom door waiting for my professor’s arrival and a handful of time to spare. Since I was too engrossed in reviewing notes, I thought of daring myself into a yet dreadful work I have never allowed myself into before, that is writing a sonnet. At first, I let myself get lost in the flow of thoughts until I wrote the first line, and, eureka! The idea of trying to scribble down my first sonnet came like a frigging wrecking ball. It took me more than twelve hours to arrange and unify the rhythm, thought and rhyme – the longest time I have ever dedicated to writing a poem in one day. Probably to some of you it’s not much, but this piece means a lot to me, as it was my first step to writing one of the things I’m afraid of, literally; I’m afraid of sonnets because they seem so hard to write. I hope you enjoy reading it. 🙂

Continue reading “Sonnet #1: The Dreamer”

Notes on November 9 by Colleen Hoover

Two weeks ago I celebrated my birthday and as an early present from a friend I got two books of my choice upon walking on the aisle of a bookstore: Colleen Hoover’s November 9 and Paulo Coelho’s By The River Piedra I Sat Down And Wept. Not knowing that the latter is a trilogy. I finished reading both on the same week and enjoyed their company very much. Looking forward to reading the next two parts of Coelho’s trilogy. So, I decided to post a little book review on Hoover’s November 9. Here are my notes:

Continue reading “Notes on November 9 by Colleen Hoover”

Moving Depths

All are moving depths,


Reaching after success,

Full of mission,

Eventually despair,

Walking on a shore,

With a nearby hurricane,

Watching over us,

Crawling steadfast,

We rely in instinct,

Solely in it,

Which survival learned shall use,

Which unnecessary,

There is an hour,

Of solace,

And prosperity,

Only an hour,

In time the wind gushes loud,

Flying each dusty hair strand,

Masking our face,

Choking our throat,

Till we no longer see,

Till we no longer—

The footsteps left,

Hoping someone finds,

Comes after rescue,



Eternally forgotten,

By growing waves,

As the hurricane eyes,


—Till we no longer be.