Message to thieves

well this is a bit unexpected, writing this just now. A thief/thieves broke into our house, do you see how awesome we people who loved to write are? We can take inspirations from these thieves too. Haha! This is my message to them…

“Haha! It’s alright, it’s not like it’s your fault.”…

The thing about thieves in the night is that
they really, usually, don’t come at night
the probability of them striking past midnight
between 1 to 2:40 when the dawn starts to break
is of high rate.

However, more than the material things
more than the cash value
more than their reason (which is still invalid whatever it is, lol!)
they have no idea that-
they could be taking something urgently significant in terms of
emotional sentimental values wrapped up in those items.

Sometimes, they don’t realize that
they don’t just take material possessions with them
they don’t just assume the people where they stole those things could buy them again, maybe not easily, but they’ll sure buy again

it’s really not that. It’s the memories
if it could be weigh in terms of memories
those thieves would have a hard time stealing some things

some things that would have equalled to three productive and joyful years of meeting people that eventually became friends with me.

Imagine the weight,
it could have never been lifted by just ten people alone
no, my memories are valued
to the point of over valued
so yeah, ordinary people who don’t know the weight of memories could have never fathom how to handle them.

Some notes that I’d always want to look back
because it always seemed like a
Love letter from far away loved ones
some thousands of photographs that could never be taken back again,
specially with people no longer in my life for the moment

You see, if only things could be weigh and measure
in terms of memories and heart-value
I tell you-
those thieves could have never taken something that figuratively just weighs
133 grams, 4.7 oz…



On remembering and forgetting

yes, this is a rambling. The talkative person in me won’t let me stop talking. Lol! đŸ˜›

We all have reasons for forgetting to breathe…

I remember being four and a half year old
hearing stories from my grandpa-
that I’m the apple of his yes
I remember how grand his story was
that I could tend myself to sleep
in a bed of clouds with-
sky blue laces draping on his chest
and at such a young age, I didn’t quite understood but-
he’ll always be the first man I’ll always love

and he’ll always be the story I’ll always want to fall asleep with-
up until today, the only addition is the company of Rumi

I remember the first man
who manage to broke my heart
and just like that,
I discovered books more than English and Math

I remember the guy who gave me a bouquet of roses
with all the gym instructors behind his back
I wanted to disappear in that moment
but more than that, I learned how to break a heart

I remember being deeply loved
appreciated and tolerated
forgiven, have always been given
I remember loving, loving
Ohh loving the people who changed me
Who keeps changing me-
all for the better, yes for the better

I remember loving people and realizing
their well-being’s utmost importance

I know I’ve always been far from perfect
and this world will always be a balance of everything no matter how you disagree with me

Remember it like the back of your hands
or every single mole in your body
every wound turned into scars
the heartbreaks that causes your heart’s break for what no longer serves you
every shattering that allows an opening
-an open broken heart

We all have reasons for remembering to breathe..
and sometimes you shouldn’t forget
the urgent, highest, grandest reason
will always be

April 18th

The Clock

Time lingers for no one
regardless of who you are
yet, what’s in a time?

What’s in a second?
Minutes in an hour and
hours to make up a day?

Another concept of human?
stuff to cover the void,
reassurance to find solace?

Could we live outside its touch?
The world could crumble
yet, time would endure

I heard the car door slam,
and immediately looked out the clock
What time is it?

Time where-

you could be heartbroken
you could be grieving
you could be dying

Time when-

you are celebrating
you are joyous
you are on top

indifference, detachment
Time mastered these

to refrain from-

breaking, like you and me
enjoying, like you and me
being attach, like you and me

Time lingers for no one
regardless of who you are
yet, what’s in a time?

©Bluesirie 20130418

April 9th


A sanctuary of silence
where grace is planted
love’s bloom are scented

Cheered by beloved’s kiss
picture me this-
showered by bliss

You speak in my solitude
invoke in me a gratitude
seize away incertitude

This feeling of elation
of never ending devotion
as you calm my emotion

You know I’m a wanderer
by routine, hushed me never
allow, how my heart flickers

’cause I always come back to you
a lover madly in love with you
wandering that constantly leads back to you

when Wanderlust meets her beloved
incessantly come back, stimulated…

April 6th

The Transporter

A river containing innocence
playing, swimming, diving
various resounding voices

It reproduces a childhood
beaming faces
securing embraces

Trees to climb upon
spider on a web,
crawling on my hand

playing in the middle of a road
outside the fear of danger
breeding friendships forever

Read me this
and I will arrive at euphoria
step into a paradise-
long lived…

April 5th

The Sky Looks Up On Us

ever wonder how
the sky looks at us?
certainly discern
he’s gazing down on us?

because there are times
I’m more convinced
he’s gazing up for us.
We- are sky in minced!

we framed constellations
dots linked to one another
a celestial beauty
with each shift we fashion

Next time you think
how stunning the sky is,
how you prostrate unto him
and tell yourself “ahh, the sky”…

realize the sky reckons we’re stars
gleaming distinctive shades,
this earth we stand on-
firmament of beauty, for him…

(in the same manner that he is, for us…)

April 2nd

Tracing Memories

There were moments, I-
trace my fingers on my pillow
there, my hands tremble to feel,
an invincible shadow of you

If these pillows could talk
the world outside would be so jealous-
I, move tears to reach your presence
I, move the air to feel your essence

Today, an illusion reminded me that-
you’re gone
Thirteen seconds later,
something in my rib cage died!

Yet, my love was made-
from the strongest material,
from the deepest form of passion,
the loudest voice of longing

and I don’t know how to stop
if you’re gonna be on the line
’cause what keeps me going that keeps me striving-
lies on a beautiful art, that is you…