Waves Without Sounds

When things come crashing on the shores of the mind.

Month: November, 2015

Dream of No Return


Keep your eyes closed from the cares of the day
And let yourself slip to lands far away
Where rich rivers of gold flow with stories untold
About absolute bliss and the hope that you hold.

Abandon reason and reality,
Embrace these visions of pure ecstasy.
In this fantasy land, all is yours to command
And the best things happen with a wave of your hand.

Here, all is happy and vibrant and good
And nothing could ever ruin the mood.
There is no need to toil over magical soil
And only you, not the foods, are worthy to spoil!

Stay here forever and always remain
Happy and young with nothing to complain
About in these fine dreams of yours filling the seams
Left by harsh waking world where nothing’s what it seems.

So slumber and slumber and never awaken
Never allow your dreams to be shaken
By the cruel intrusion of reality.
Vow not to return to your sanity!





Where the air is crisp and pure and mild,
And the skies are ever clear;
Where the trees reach high and the grass is green,
And the nights are filled with peace;
Where the untainted soil is nurturing,
And the children want for nothing;
Where the beasts sing of things to come
And the spirits keep watch and hear
Each prayer and each step we make,
And grant what we deserve;
Where everything does not have a price
And all is family;
The simple life is not too far,
And so is peace and freedom,
It is just us who have the hardest time
To stretch out with open hands,
To reach out, take hold and seize the peace
That we keep on wishing for.

For our Anthropology class, we went to a community of indigenous people living at the mountains of Pampanga. It’s amazing how life seems so peaceful there. The community is like one big family where they trust one another. Money doesn’t seem as important to them as it is to us since they have crops and they can just hunt for food. It was a good break from urban living. I slept better there than here in the city where I’m always anxious about things. Above is a picture I took during our trip.

Self-Made Monstrosity


I thought my secrets were mine to keep and mine to give away.
Never could I have ever fathomed that I shared them with my mind,
And that my mind is a sinister being apart from my own.

I trusted my mind, thinking it is mine to command.
I entrusted it with burying these secrets and it did a very splendid job.
But there came a time when my mind made a demand for me to tell a story.
Either the story was too good, or the mind was too persistent,
Or maybe I was such an eager fool– I heeded this demand.
And soon enough a tale of brokenness and madness was extracted from me.
Telling this tale, I needed to dig to find something to say.
But my crafty mind prevented me from seeing right away
That I was digging up the grave of the secrets thrown into oblivion.

Once it was told, this tale was bold and stood before me
Disguised as a stranger,
Sad and dark and beautiful;
I loved it like a child and took much pride in it.
But as time passed and I looked at it more, I saw
That this is no tale spun out of threads that were picked up from others.
It is real and it is mine–
It is my very tale.
It is what I have buried long ago– the burden I cast away.
The sadness, the madness, the brokenness, the child of troubled past.
It was a dead that I unwittingly raised back to life and nurtured.
It has come to rob me of happiness as payment for its burial.

It is eating me raw, it is eating me whole, it is eating me inside out
Until it could prevail.
It will take the nice little place I secured for myself
Upon this difficult world,
And it will prowl the surface of the earth bearing my identity.
It will spread its madness to all that it could reach.
It will pull down everything it can until it rises above,
Leering, and glaring, and grinning at me– the monster I’ve become.

The image above is a screenshot from the opening sequence of ‘Monster’, my favorite anime.

Bleeding Sanity

tumblr_m6v325HqxC1rafv6oo1_500Here it comes,
The stinging smell of nauseous iron
Forcing me to breathe it in–
A sorry attempt at regaining
The sanity that I am bleeding right from where I breathe.

It escapes me uncontrollably
And trickles to my lips as if to kiss goodbye.
How I wish I can open my mouth and suck it back
Without the feeling of disgust,
And I do so.
Sanity is a chain that binds me to such senseless norms.
Now that it loosens its very grip,
It must be to set me free.
Hence I do so.

I part my lips and allow the blood right into my mouth,
And the taste of metal made me wish that I was made of steel,
That my nuts and bolts were not this easy to rust and loosen up
Such that I can still have a firm grasp of my once wondrous thoughts.
But they have betrayed me.

My thoughts have been my escape from the menace of reality
And they have betrayed me.
They took the darkest turn they can;
They taunted me and daunted me,
And I am not the strictest master.
My thoughts never had to break free just so they can fly
And yet they have broken me.
Then again,
Was I ever their master to begin with?

The tangy taste of metal lingers and it reminded me
Of just how much I loved the blade especially
Whenever it drips rubies–
Rubies that I mined myself;
Rubies I mined from myself.
Maybe I have depleted my sanity by mining it too much.

The Haunted

fear-of-darkA haunting like no other has left me paralyzed.
I cannot bid myself to do anything–
I have been impeded by utter fright.
Tonight I was kissed by memories
Of everything that I cannot set right.

The pain of the past are my ghosts of today
That haunt and hunt me so fervently.
The nightmares that ravage me so much in my sleep
Would devour all the happiness left within me
And leave me hollow upon awakening.
The fears of the present are the visions of future
Gathered from what I had seen in the past,
For this road that I tread is but a string of patterns
The repetition of which is what only lasts
When all in this world has went away.
The horrors of my life are not the demons that I sought and embraced.
The things I fear most are the stains that I can never wash away,
And the fractures and fissures and the petty attempts
At concealing and healing the damage dealt to me
By the severe bludgeoning of a terrible past.

Though I have mastered the art of making these masks,
I have created so many that I am weighed down in wearing them,
And the effort of constantly having to switch from one to another
Is taking up much of the will and the strength
That I struggled to collect in this burdensome journey.

How long until I catch even the slightest glimpse
Of the end of this road I am taking?
Will I ever step into the dream that I dared dreaming?
But I am haunted, I am haunted!
And a wretch who carries so much misery cannot afford to dream of joy
When all that can be done is to run
And keep running from the ghosts of my own making
While always wishing and always praying for death, the swift escape.