Do you really know me?

Do you really know me?
I think you don't
Did you bother to get to know me?
I think you didn't
Even when I bare my soul in front of you
You only see the part of me which you wanted to see
You don't really care
You don't give a damn
After all, you already got that something that you want
So why should I bother?
Why should I think?
Its what should I have expected from a hypocrite.

 date finished: Jan. 17, 2010

Sunglasses

"Can I borrow this?" she asked though she already held it in her hands. I didn't mind it anyway since I wouldn't say no to her.

She sat beside me silently, while I was writing my notes. I didn't know why but I suddenly stop writing and just look at her. It was in that moment when a tear slid from her cheek. She wiped it away as quickly as it appeared not knowing that I noticed it.

I set aside my things and just sat beside her, pretending that I didn't see the tear. She slid down her head on my shoulder and settled in there for a while. In silence, I sat with her without a care on the world.

Our surrounding then was at peace yet my mind was in turmoil. I want to know yet I couldn't ask. I have questions but I know she won't answer. I want her to share her pain however between the two of us, things are not as easy as they are. So in silence, I cry with her. In silence, I feel her pain. And in silence, I will be here for her.

Darkness had claimed the sky and my shoulder started to feel numb. Thinking that she had fallen asleep, I let her stayed that way even though it hurts. Yet, at that moment, she suddenly sat upright and faced me.

She was smiling at me. Her smile that can ease my pain whenever I see it, is directed to me. Then I wondered what she'll do next.

She took away my sunglasses glasses, rubbed her eyes as if she just woke up and said, "thank you", then handing me the glasses.

"For my shoulder?" I asked with mischief.

"No, for your sunglasses," she answered with mirth written on her face.

My smile got wider. I know what she really mean. Knowing her, I know that's the best answer I can get from her. But I'm thankful still for at least she noticed and all is not in vain. Someday, she won't need the glasses anymore. Someday...

 date finished: April 8, 2010

Beauty and Insecurity

An alluring beauty stood by the window. With all the people in the party, she stood there alone. They gathered to her when she came earlier but sooner or later one by one they left her side.

Her hair glistened as the light hits it which made her more of a temptress. She looked at them with a slight disinterest while people could not keep their eyes from her. Why wouldn't they when her beauty radiates from the crowd; no one is comparable to her - no one stood a chance.

But unknown to every one, the beautiful seductress is an insecure one. She knew that every little thing she does is being watch by every single one of them.  That in every mistake she commits, it is magnified ten times or more by every one who wants to pull her down. She lives not a life but of fear. She fears that the image she built for herself would crumble with just a small mistake she might commit and she feared that people won't look at her the same way again. These are the reasons why she chose to be alone. She is afraid to trust people because they might become the reason of her fall.

date finished: April 5, 2010

I'm Not In Love

I'm not in love
Yet I write poems of love
Keep singing love songs
And has a smile on my face

I'm not in love
But I see the colors of the world
I appreciates its beauty
And I hear their songs playing

I'm not in love
That's why people keep on asking
How I maintain such bubbly spirit
If I'm not really in love as I claim to be

I'm not in love
Because I've already loved
And heartaches I've already suffered
Which I'm not ready to begin again

I'm not in love
For the last time this I tell
Its only that I feel so love
Which is why I feel like this

I'm not in love
Coz I'm in love with the world
With the people around me
And with the things bestowed upon me

For love is found not just on a special someone
It can be seen through the eyes of your friends
From the unwavering support of your Family
And from the blessings of the Divine. ^^

date finished: March 31, 2010

A Clown's Monologue

The crowd's applause was nauseating. It gave me that drunken feeling of self-importance and a pretense facade of popularity. I loved the attention and I still love it now but there are moments in life when you just want to be left alone. Even the most sociable man would want a time for himself.

I'm not really popular but my character is. Children just can't get enough of me. But there are also some who are afraid of this face with a white makeup, don't really know the reason and I don't really care so much for it. For me, as long as there are people who watch my show, I'll perform for them but that was when I was just starting. I was mesmerized with the laughter in the circus that I though living there would be happier. The wide smiles written all over the face of my co-workers had convinced me that life with laughter is a whole lot easier. Yet, I learned that it doesn't make things any better. Its still a life with laughters its just that I didn't know that along with a handful of laughters I have, it comes with a bunch of tears. Sometimes the tears would outweigh the laughters. It was then that I realized that living in a circus is not for sane people. Here, we laughed even though we cry inside. We make people smile, laugh and forget about their problems and yet we, ourselves, couldn't even have the courage to make ourselves smile. Sometimes there's no time to dry our tears for the show is already starting. We are the world's biggest pretenders. If one person wears a mask, we own several of it.

The show must go on, they often say but our show does not end in the stage. It stretched down to our daily life. We are not just clowns in the stage but we are also clowns everyday. People who do not know us expect us to be like that. The stupid stereotypes had branded us with such that even after erasing the white makeup we wore, people still expect us to be funny.

Its funny, isn't it? My life is so funny that I had a life time of laughters. The bitter tears have already mixed up with the tears of joy that I couldn't even differentiate the two. Maybe that's why I look like this, one who couldn't smile and who couldn't cry as well.

date finished: April 2, 2010

Wake Up, Sleepy Head

Wake up, sleepy head!
Your teacher is staring at you
Your drowsy eyes had given you away
Now, you have caught her attention

Wake up, sleepy head!
Your yawning is quite contagious
Better stop it now
Than be sanction later for it

Wake up, sleepy head!
I know the class is boring you
You may think its a torture too
But it'll be worst if you repeat again

Wake up, sleepy head!
You look tired almost every day
Is it for lack of sleep?
Or did you decide to give up on life?

Wake up, sleepy head!
Its time for you to straightened up now
I'm saying this for your own good
So there will be no regrets for you

date finished: Feb. 6, 2010

The Love That I Killed

The love that I killed
Isn't an ordinary one
It was promising and real
But one cannot continue with it
It is one with a hopeless case
Especially when it is such a love not returned

The love that I killed
Is a love that was selfless
It shared to everyone its smile
Not even bothering the pain that it carries
Putting others before its own
Even though one's heart was also bleeding

The love that I killed
Is a love that is so rare
It was so uncommon
That others did not recognize it
Until it died in a silent death
Because it was too late for them to notice it

The love that I killed
Has already been forgotten
No one remembers except I
For everyone, its just an ordinary loss
Just a common experience
For a heart to be broken

The love that I killed
Is a love that I'll never forget
It fought to its hardest til the last
It smiled to its sweetest til its last breath
Which really struck my heart
Which gave me an immortal scar... ^^

date finished: Feb. 05, 2010

No Turning Back

His POV

“Do not look back!” I told myself. But I could not keep myself from turning back and see for myself if she cried even a few tears for me. For the last time, I wanted to know even if it hurts, no, I am still hoping that somehow I’ve grown into someone for her.

“Okay! Just one look. JUST ONE!” I said before turning my back and seeing the face of the woman that had rejected me for the second time. She was standing there and watching me go. Her face was void of any hint of emotion not even happiness or sarcasm. I would rather see her smirking or celebrating as I go, than see her with a blank expression. It was so infuriating to know that for two years of loving her, I have not spark any flare of emotion in her. It is like I was just a nobody - a passerby in her life.

“Why did I look back?” asking myself regretfully. I should have accepted it before. I should have never hoped because I know there was no chance. She had told me a few times. But I’m glad I now know that she meant what she said. Now, I would no longer wonder over her, no longer hoping for her love, no more what ifs and no more turning back.

Well, it hurts but I can get over her. My pride would help me get over her. And when I’m done with her, she would also mean nothing. She’ll become an acquaintance. YES, JUST AN ACQUAINTANCE!!!

Her POV

“Goodbye!” that was my last word to him as he walked away from me. I desperately hid my feelings for him because I’m not worthy of him. He deserve someone better than me.

“Please don’t look back. Please don’t!” I whispered, no, it was kind of a prayer. It was already painful to see him walk away but it would worsen if he looks back again. Because it would confirm one thing and that is he would still love me even after what I did. It’s a great feeling to know that you are love beyond anything in the world and even if you’ve been the meanest and sinful woman in the world. However, the other side of that knowledge is the feeling of fear and ashamed for myself. Fear of not being able to equal his love and ashamed because I know I don’t deserve his love.

And then I saw him turned back at me, his eyes were questioning, no, he was searching for any indication or feelings in my face but I wouldn’t let him. He is already walking away with a broken heart; I don’t want to make it worse by pretending to smile as he walks away. I neither want him to see me cry for I know if he did, he would be running back at me which is what I don’t want him to do for I would feel more guilty for pushing him away. So I have to be tough, callous of everything. No, I won’t cry, I could never hurt him again. This is already painful for him, for both of us. And so I put on a blank expression on my face and stood my ground.

When he continued to walk further away: my tears began to flow, my knees grew weak and my heart was broken into a million pieces.

“There goes the man I love. And yet why am I letting him go if I love him?” I thought.

“Because I don’t deserve him,” I answered.

“Because he deserves someone better,” I added.

As he walked, I was trying desperately to convince myself that this is the right thing to do. But somehow, I don’t feel right in doing this. Logic told me that it’s definitely right yet I feel so wrong.

A part of me wanted to scream his name and stop him but I won’t do that. Everything was done, there’s no turning back now. I have to face the consequence of my actions. I have to let him go…

“Yeah, let him go…”

Killing is my Profession

I slit his throat rather too quickly. Now, I regretted having to do it as it took away my artistic skills in creating a masterpiece of his death rather than an ordinary one.

The blood oozed in his neck and his body started convulsing as his hand tried desperately to stop the bleeding. But all his efforts were in vain as I see him lifeless with his eyes wide open staring at the man who killed him.

Looking at his artless form, I neither felt joy nor sadness. I have become too callous to feel anything anymore. Killing to me is like butchering; it’s a profession. I've killed a whole lot of people from all walks of life. I do not choose who they are because I just follow their demands. I do not care for their reasons; all I wanted is the price. Men, women, children and elderly - they are all alike to me. But this I do care, I want to kill them in an artistic way because I'm not just an ordinary hired killer.

I took out my phone and sent the message to my costumer. The job was done and I want my compensation. Then I noticed how the man's blood tainted my gloves. It was my favorite one but his death would buy me a hundred of these. I guess this is also one of the hazards in this profession; you often get your things tainted with blood.

Before it was just like this. It started from the blood stain in my gloves, then it got into my shirt, into my pants and until I noticed that it eventually tainted not just my clothes but my whole being. I had sleepless nights as it I started to notice the difference in me but later on I got accustomed to it. The sight and smell of blood became to unnerving anymore that it went to a point that it became too ordinary for me.

My conscience had long forsaken me to this world of sins. I don't care about salvation anymore for I do not live for the life after death but I live for my life today. Just like I said earlier, killing is my profession.

Sometimes I wonder how come people go through a lot of things for them to become a doctor or a lawyer or any other profession but only to be killed by someone like me. They work their asses off trying to memorize those words in those crappy books and yet when I kill them, I felt more powerful than they are. I am just a commoner who did not finish college for the sole reason that I don't think I needed that affiliation in my profession. The universities don’t teach a student how to fire a gun or use a knife to kill someone. It neither teaches you how to sneak into someone's room and wait for your victim patiently. They don't teach you those things which make all of it uninteresting. Thus, it became futile for me to continue educating myself.

It’s at this kind of thinking that I remember my first kill. It was an accident or rather a self-defence since they were the ones who attack me first. My hands shook terribly as I confess to a friend. His words were the ones that kept me going all through those times when I was down. He told me that it was rather that way or the other way around. Its either I kill or be killed. Then as I got my composure back, I started living with his way. As I got mature, I realized that I can't just go on killing people like that. That's when I started this profession. Besides if you look at it, someone has got to do it and it just so happens that I'm available for the job.

date finished: May 4, 2010

Things My Son Should Know After I've Died

THINGS MY SON SHOULD KNOW AFTER I’VE DIED
by Brian Trimboli

I was young once. I dug holes
near a canal and almost drowned.
I filled notebooks with words
as carefully as a hunter loads his shotgun.
I had a father also, and I came second to an addiction.
I spent a summer swallowing seeds
and nothing ever grew in my stomach.
Every woman I kissed,
I kissed as if I loved her.
My left and right hands were rivals.
After I hit puberty, I was kicked out of my parents’ house
at least twice a year. No matter when you receive this
there was music playing now.
Your grandfather isn’t
my father. I chose to do something with my life
that I knew I could fail at.
I spent my whole life walking
and hid such colorful wings.


This poem I've stumbled upon earlier in a forum that I'm a member of. Immediately after reading I was taken by it and I just can't stop thinking of the wide range of interpretation regarding it. So here's what I came up this few hours of contemplation...

I was young once. I dug holes
near a canal and almost drowned.

The father talked about how his childhood. He was telling his son that he's been there and done those things that his boy did and that he too had been a son once. 


I filled notebooks with words
as carefully as a hunter loads his shotgun.

A hunter loads his shotgun to either defend himself or to catch his prey. In these lines, writing in his notebook was compared to loading a shotgun. To me, it is somewhat saying that notebook contains things that explains the father's actions or his persuasions to his son. The word 'carefully' plays an important role in this one because it gives the readers the idea that what contains in the book were not merely explanations but the words there were carefully chosen. The father probably think that his relationship with his son depends on his words in the notebook.


I had a father also, and I came second to an addiction.
I spent a summer swallowing seeds
and nothing ever grew in my stomach.

On this line, he was relating his son's situation to his. The first phrase is somewhat saying that I was a son first then became a father and that you too would become one. For the addiction phrase, I have two interpretation. First - it could be that he almost came to an addiction and my second interpretation is that his father had an addiction that he almost inherited. The second line speaks of how he had defied his parents. We all know those tales that mothers tell about seeds growing into our stomach so that we won't swallow the seeds anymore. In that line, he was saying that he did things that his parents did not approve of but still he came out from it.


Every woman I kissed,
I kissed as if I loved her.

I like this part because in this line it shows that the father is a passionate man. He wanted his son to know that so that he can become one too.

My left and right hands were rivals.

This shows that he too had conflicts within himself. He admits it. 




After I hit puberty, I was kicked out of my parents’ house
at least twice a year. No matter when you receive this
there was music playing now.

 In here, the father tells us that he too had his share of leaving away from home. In those moments, the letters he received from home brought cheers to his face. Music playing in this line means happiness. So whenever he hears from them, he felt happy.


Your grandfather isn’t
my father. I chose to do something with my life
that I knew I could fail at.

On this part, it is like a revelation. It is a secret that he passed to his son in which he was hoping to make a bond with. I think that is why the second line speak of trying to do something even though he knew of failing it. It just means that he's not giving up or losing hope. He is trying to reach out for his son which is different from his real father. He wanted to changed his life from that of his father.

I spent my whole life walking
and hid such colorful wings.

 This line for the last part, I think is perfect for the poem. It somewhat says that the father had always kept his soft side or rather the side of him that he was now opening to his son. It was always there in him but he just hid it from everyone. ^^


I started loving this poem the moment I first read it. I still love it every time I read it. It makes me think and makes me wonder. ^_^

In This Four Corners

In this four corners, I've found my haven

Escaping the realities of the world

Enjoying my isolation and serenity

That I couldn't find anywhere else I walk

In this four corners, my imagination is set free

Where flowers does not only bloom in May

And the weather changes in just a blink of an eye

For everything is possible around here even the things I think are not

In this four corners, my tears have been subdued

My face had been unmask

My reverie often put into papers

Where someday I might read them aloud

In this four corners, dreams have been founded

Some of it being crushed and some are forgotten

Some remain and yet pushed aside

While others been taken with one step at a time

In this four corners, I've nurtured my love

Where I stood a shrine for him

Hiding it from everyone's eye

Yet, its been destroyed for it would never prosper being a one-sided love

In this four corners, I will start to break away from

The space is no longer fit for me

My wings just have to be released

So I could find a more spacious nest for me to stay

In this four corners, I bid my farewell

With most of my life spent on its four walls

Which by now could have written a book on its own

Too bad it can't for its just a wall on this four corners of mine.