Poems

Midnight Blue

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Pardon my emoti-ness. Yeah, I call it that. It’s midnight and  I could not sleep. For certain, I miss my chicas back in the Philippines. So let me post this solemn view from my window.

Ok, how about a short poem I write
By the dimmest light
By the sadness of the moment
And the darkness of the night
With all my might
I’m still Mr. Bright
…side
In the lowest point of this blue midnight

The Square Root of 3

Watching naughty movies doesn’t always makes you just laugh to some non-sense jokes or scenes. Sometimes it also makes you realize that being an imperfect “You” is actually perfect. Yes, no one is perfect. Because there’s always something missing in us that we need to find ourselves. Our perfect match. I was watching Harold and Kumar – Escape from Guantamano Bay last weekend and behind the natural jokes, I see a drama. Kumar willingly expressed his lamest feeling for a lovely girl by a poem.

I fear that I will always be
A lonely number like root 3

The 3 is all that’s good and right,
Why must my 3 keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a 9

For 9 could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic

I know I’ll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality

When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root 3

Has quietly come waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer

We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands

Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed

Sweet?