So We Borrowed Something From Frank O’hara

Over the weekends, I caught a movie on ETC called Wild Child. It was an old movie where Emma Roberts (Poppy Moore) starred in as a rebellious Malibu princess shipped to study in an English boarding school by her father.

Big fan of Emma Roberts, represent! :)

As a sucker for chic flicks, it is imperative of me to get my cellphone and send a message about it to some of my friends called Tomblrs (Mari, Mayu, Jek and Shiela). You know how you have this favorite group of people you always bombard with any of your mundane activities in your life via group message? Yes, they are those people. Haha!

At home, we don’t have a Cable-TV. The street where we are located doesn’t really have a nice reception to show you a number of channels; ergo, even we are Kapamilyas by heart, we are at the court of the Kapusos. In that particular night, though, it was a good thing that ETC was up even if the signal was not too crystal.

In the movie, there was this scene where Emma had a date with the headmistress’ son – which was kind of sweet, by the way – and it dawned on me how familiar the face of the actor was. I just can’t recognize it since our TV was kind of grainy so I had to confirm if he was the actor who I think he is with Tomblrs. And when I found out that I was right, I was even more ecstatic! The lead man was none other than Alex Pettyfer (Freddie Kingsley in the movie)!!! Yup, my I Am Number Four / Beastly beloved was a young English gentleman at Wild Child! And that’s where me and my friend, Shiela, went ballistic! Haha! When girls like something, they fight for it til death. In our case, we fight through poems. Lol. It’s like who loves Alex better – Nins or Shels? #medyochildish #notworthblogging #butstill

When I thought she had forgotten about it, Shiela went for her first mini poem for Alex last Monday. It goes,

Having a Coke with you
Is even more better than me having the grandest vacation in Boracay or Puerto Galera…
Because the sun and the beach looked tame when I stare in the depths of your eyes.
Because my most beautifully-written fairy tale is coming true when I’m with you.

Sheila improvised and patterned her poem from the famous scene at the other Alex Pettyfer movie – Beastly – where he read a Frank O’hara masterpiece: Having a Coke with You#kilig

My favorite line from the poem <3

Shiela’s not the kind who surrenders an admiration, especially for Alex, she even said:

I love him like the Summer’s blue sky. I love him like the Autumn’s maple leaves. I guess I would need dozens pair of seasons to describe how I love him.

Her famous Wattpad Story was also inspired by Alex. Now, I cannot top that. That’s big time art! HAHA. I’m really proud of her and my other friend Mari (her editor) since the story reached two million awesomesauce reads already! Woohoo! However, it wasn’t a call to give up my admiration for Alex too, you know. So I also responded with a poem yesterday. We’re still borrowing Sir O’hara’s framework on this one…

Having a Coke with you
Is even more wonderful than watching Manila sunset at the bay at 5:45 in the afternoon
Partly because your smile speaks tons of stories I will never get tired of hearing; I bet, til dawn
Party because your smell makes me dizzy just like Manila pollution — and you know, dizzy is good
Partly because of my love for poetry and that your very presence makes me want to string in words which I could make as poems
I wouldn’t mind traffic because there’s not a time wasted
Being with you makes me hope, being with you makes me believe that sunsets doesn’t always mean endings
That sometimes, all we really have to do is just marvel at the beauty of an orange horizon
And it is my privilege to gaze beauty in its rawness that is you

I intended for it to be four stanzas only but I got carried away a little bit. Haha!

So, what’s the lesson here? Nothing actually. Haha! It’s just that it’s nice to pour out your emotions into words, most times – it’s the way you make poetry. You do it with your heart. Whatever fuels your inspiration, hold on to it, remember what it feels like. One day, don’t be afraid to make an art out of it. Cheers!

Out from the Overflow

On September, you wrote a letter
Something about Love and Distance; your favorite line from a song
I’ve searched what I wrote mine on that same month
The closest date next to yours
But I can’t find it anymore

If those letters were for me
I’ll thank the mailman for tracking me down at the old street of a fifteen year old house
If those letters were for me
The same letters you sent last January and two years back
I’d gladly take it to the heart and let it touch the soul
If those letters are letters of Longing that was only denied because of Pride
If those letters were for me
Pain is an easy burden to consider
If those letters were Love letters
Sent to a third space apart from my world and yours
If those letters were for me
Those were the same letters I had been sending you

To say the least, I know to whom I send my letters to
I had always been writing you
I had always been making these sh*tty poems for you
These poems where I’m the only one who’s satisfied with my rhymes
Poems where I repeat every line of my first stanzas
Poems where I can say anything I wanted because I know how you won’t pay attention reading them

You’re not like me
You never intended to send your letters to me
Never was I an inspiration for your prose
‘If’ is just a word I used to show myself under my coat of Hope
To realize that there’s nothing more to hide when you’re in good terms with Metaphor
To reveal every Secret because no one will ever comprehend to learn its implications

On September, you wrote a letter
Something about Love and Distance
Today is my September

Somewhere Between

Somewhere between spring and fall
Somewhere between classics and jazz
Somewhere between nightfall and daybreak
Somewhere between the roller coasters and the merry-go-rounds
Somewhere between good memories and the bad
Somewhere between then and now…

I’ve seen you somewhere and I thought we’ll see each other again

Hope was the vehicle of the longing that I felt
Rain was the umbrella for something bright as the sun
The wind blew from Southeast to Westside
All afternoon, I waited somewhere between four and five

I ran faster to keep up with my train of thoughts
I searched the ocean for the right words I should have in mind
I watched the city as it was drenched by fog and rainclouds
I peeked through the window of a room lit with a tiny candle of holding on to somewhere between a couple more seconds and walking away

But I lost all of them

I lost them like how,
Somewhere between exchanging smiles and postcard stamps,
I lost you in between all the avenues of Somewhere.

Mister Green Eyes

You know I hate it
I hate it when I still feel these feelings for you
I hate it when I still long for something that ain’t coming true
I don’t wanna settle, but I guess I have to

When I dreamt of you misty Sunday morning
It was the joy of your presence that kept me from waking
You got those mystery behind your eyes
A mystery that even I wasn’t able to comprehend to

All I know is what I felt –
The sweetest peck on the cheek and the warmest embrace
A dint of nostalgia on its way out from yesterday
A hunger for those same moments is searching for me at my own race

Seeing you today, though, made me bitterly envious
How I wish I was the one whom you rescued
I always wanted you to be my knight, remember?
I guess it always slipped right out of you

Just for this time, just for once –
I hate it when I just write something for you
When I know you won’t care
I still write how I always fall for you

Promise, this would be the last time that I’ll ever do
Because I hate it.
I hate me.
I hate you.

~I don’t know if this could be considered a poem. I consider this to be a heart – confused, broken (for the nth time), vulnerable. It’s that kind of heart. It’s that but it’s invincible.

P.S. when I wrote this, it’s an impromptu writing; hence, not too much on word play but a show of pure feelings. #SayWhuut

Non Placet of Effervescence

You leave me with the wrong impressions
And I’m not ready for complications
But why can’t I stay away?
Why can’t I just stay away from you?

I’ve barricaded my heart, braced myself
Never again am I letting anyone in
But how come with just one smile
You sent the locks flying away?

I’m here in my corner, clutching a book
At peace with myself, heart’s tucked safe
Then you just had to happened, don’t you?
You sent a raging storm that disrupted my universe

I know I’m still denying it, but I have to
I’m never gonna admit your effect on me
No one’s ever gonna know what you do
To my heart every time we meet

In a month or two, this turmoil will be gone
Your charisma will wear off, and I’m gonna be fine
Back to the same old, same old
Not too colorful but it’s my comfort zone

Unless I can be sure that you’re gonna catch me
There’s no way that I am letting myself fall
I know it’s better this way, I’m sure of this
My peaceful universe is all I will ever gonna need

~This is written by Marichelle Boiles; she allowed me to publish this since she’s never gonna publish it on her blog – like she’s never gonna ever admit her feelings for a possible true love. This is her, writing her heart out for the PTM guy (I forgot what PTM means). She’s a super writer, see?

P.S.: it’s I who gave the title. Whatcha think? Did I get it right? :)

The Downpour Of

The rain always reminds me of unspoken sorrow —
Of hearts longing to be heard;
Of chances never to be taken;
Of promises ought not to be broken.

But the rain is also an immutable triumph —
Of forgiveness that is bound to happen;
Of faith unveiling the beauty of tears;
Of hope extremely marvelous and steadfast.

It’s the scent of the drizzle over the window pane —
The longhand letters and the wonderful maze;
The people who believed and those who eagerly resist;
The memories, those memories, of once requited love.

It’s those poignant moments and bargained ventures – a liberating aftermath.
It’s the rain, it’s this rain, and how I always remember what I had never forgotten: you.

~I started drafting this poem Saturday when the rain started to poured out so hard it felt like there’s a waterfalls falling from the heavens. I finished writing midnight of Tuesday when all those feelings came back all at once. I grappled on them so tight, I don’t want them to hang loose. And there, I thought, this could be a poem. :)

If Jesus Came to Your House

If Jesus came to your house to spend a day or two –
If He came unexpectedly, I wonder what you’d do.
Oh, I know you’d give your nicest room to such an honored Guest,
And all the food you’d serve to Him would be the very best,
And you would keep assuring Him you’re glad to have him there –
That serving Him in your own home is joy beyond compare.

But when you saw Him coming, would you meet Him at the door
With arms outstretched in welcome to your heavenly Visitor?
Or would you have to change your clothes before you let Him in?
Or hide some magazines and put the Bible where they’d been?
Would you turn off the radio and hope He hadn’t heard?
And wish you hadn’t uttered that last, loud, hasty word?

Would you hide your worldly music and put some hymn books out?
Could you let Jesus walk right in, or would you rush about?
And I wonder – if the Savior spent a day or two with you,
Would you go right on doing the things you always do?
Would you go right on saying the things you always say?
Would life for you continue as it does from day to day?

Would your family conversation keep up it’s usual pace?
And would you find it hard each meal to say a table grace?
Would you sing the songs you always sing, and read the books you read,
And let Him know the things on which your mind and spirit feed?
Would you take Jesus with you everywhere you’d planned to go?
Or would you, maybe, change your plans for just a day or so?

Would you be glad to have Him meet your very closest friends?
Or would you hope they’d stay away until His visit ends?
Would you be glad to have Him stay forever on and on?
Or would you sigh with great relief when He at last was gone?
It might be interesting to know the things that you would do
If Jesus Christ in person came to spend some time with you.

~Last Sunday’s message on Pursuing Intimacy with Christ: Enoch’s Pattern, Pastor Ricky Sarthou shared this poem by Lois Blanchard Eades. You know, how we relate with Jesus privately represents how we relate with Him publicly?

If Jesus were to visit me now, I’d probably disappoint Him of the things I failed to do as a Christian. Do I walk my talk? Do I bring glory to His name, or instead, a shame? Do I inspire people and bring them closer to His presence?

Enoch, when he was still young, made a choice. He chose to follow and walk closely with Jesus. He was a man who pleased God and through his life, he spoke for His name; and eventually, God took him to stay in His presence forever.

The Bible says, two people don’t walk together unless they agreed (Amos 3:3). There are two parties to the walk–the Lord Jesus and you and me. He’s game for it; but, are we? A life of intimacy with God is the only life worth living. The earlier we choose to walk with Him, the better. That’s why I’m renewing my commitment, so that, as I walk with Him, I’ll be guided–through my words, thoughts and actions. The end goal? That I may be able to pursue intimacy with Him and that I would also be commended as someone who pleased Him and put a big smile on His face.

Walk with God. Please Him. Speak for Him with your life testimony. Be taken and captivated by His love and promises.

It’s a decision. It’s a commitment.