on the 9th...

On the 9th Day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Nine Ponies Prancing!
bwahahaha!

Pony Mania

my babies...

Love Stat

"and what of love? most of the time, 'tis a welcome breeze; a much needed refreshment for a weary soul. other times, a conundrum... pre-occupying the mind more than the heart. but, more often than most, it is a trojan horse. not necessarily devastating nor false... but begs rhetorically, 'still better to have loved & lost than never at all?' ever after... is but a minority with mythical proportions."

~the Poking Penguin-turned-Pony

Harmonic Resonance of A Heartbreak

a shrill, echoes in the unholiest of hours.
like a diamond needle, it pierces through my heart...
with nothing but the taps on black keys and a murmur,
colored worlds of infinite possibilities, hither depart.

a consuming ripple...
thus, the world within a world
is thrown into spiraling destruction.
though to man, unheard and unfelt,
barely rattling a teaspoon
in a cup of one's emotion.

a heartbreak...
may be resounding ---as the hills of music,
or subtle ---as a feather's flight...
but, loves that are lost even before being found:
unmentionable exploits in the dead of night.

bring it all back to you

it's true...
what goes around, comes around.

then comes back around again, and stops at you...

and like everything else in the great scheme of things...
true lessons can never be taught, only learned.

Per iL Mio Muse... Cor Ad Cor Loquitur

"Vastness Expanding"

if love were a great ocean...
you shall be the waves that fade into the shore, and i, the sand...

yours is a perpetual motion...
with every return, kissing the beach as passionately as the one before the other...
and the sand, as welcoming with each visit.

you shall whisper to me, secrets...
of those beyond the horizon.
that which no seafarer, no fish, nor mer-creature will have ever known...

and the sand shall be amazed...
wide-eyed and eager with every story that the wave brings with him.

the wave shall be the sand's tenant... and the sand, the wave's caretaker.

with none but themselves to offer the other...
the sand's warmth and wave's reassurance,
enough to last for another lifetime together.

Per iL Mio Muse... Ad Libitum

"Spring A Year Early"

my heart is singin' a song...
God knows i haven't felt like this for so long...
and the nights seem brighter than any day,
now that you have finally come my way...
my heart is wearin' a smile,
whenever i see you, even for just a little while...
and i just feel so happy, just filled with so much glee
even though you don't know what it is that you do to me...

Green Eyes

(green eyes... green eyes...)

here we are, as close as we can get
we’re in too deep, it cannot be forgotten
this is more than curiousity...

your embrace did amaze me from the very start
get closer 'til i hear the rhythm of your heart
you make a hard attack...

no matter where, you get always in my head
and in your lip lies paradise.
it’s not a matter of resistin'...
it’s just a matter of existin' with green eyes.

this lust is a hell-machine
devil's voice and gasoline...
and i want you more than anything
this lust is a hell-machine!

(green eyes... green eyes...)

get upset when i’m breathin' in your pheromones
this desire is a curse and i want it more and more
it’s all i’m livin' for...

when i dream it’s of you
about your lips and hands
when i wake it’s a punishment i know that i deserve
it’s tearin' on my nerves...

no matter where, you get always in my head
and in your lip lies paradise
it's not a matter of resistin'...
it's just a matter of existin' with green eyes.

this lust is a hell-machine
devil's voice and gasoline...
and i want you more than anything
this lust is a hell-machine!

(green eyes... green eyes...)

no matter where the feelin's always there
and in your lip lies paradise!
it's not a matter of resistin'...
it's just a matter of existin' with green eyes.

this lust is a hell-machine
devil's voice and gasoline...
and i want you more than anything
this lust is a hell-machine!

(green eyes... green eyes...)

(green eyes... green eyes...)

get Green Eyes here

Memories In The Rain

more Captionaries here

Intensity

it hits...
like a storm, it touches down.
with all the might that it can muster...
upon the consciousness of another.

and just as sudden...
it will mellow, like a taming inferno.
when all at last it has exhausted...
the fuel of passion that remains unrequited.

this is how i love thee...
white-hot starfire burning, fading just as quickly.

Per iL Mio Muse...

"Epilogue: Question Mark"

it figures... everywhere, there was a sign.
the alchemist in me should'a seen the traceable line.

To Another Shore, i saw once more,
with transforming-as-she-spins...
but could not recall from where,
Diana's piece is for the Viking Prince.

'til there was you... then, i knew!
The Rime Of The Ancient Mariner.

Per iL Mio Muse... (overdue)

"Contact"

tonight, i shall happily lay my head down to sleep...
within my eyes, a smile,
knowing that i got close to you the way i did.
i have neither the courage to make my intentions be known...
nor the heart to hurt you, should what we will have had be forlorn.
only the curiousity of a boy that now in me wonders...
how heaven would taste like with those sweet lips of yours.

let us all... Rise!

Den Standhaftige Tinsoldat

probably the only 3 Danish words i will ever come to know... it is one of Hans Christian Andersen's many beautiful works, The Steadfast Tin Soldier.


this fairy tale is about a one-legged tin soldier, who falls in love at first sight with a beautiful paper-doll ballerina. the ballerina's leg was lifted so high up in the air that the tin soldier could not find it and thought that she too had only one leg.

the story, like many other great tales of love, progresses with the tin soldier battling with all odds just to be reunited with his love... finding himself almost helpless, as he involuntarily sets out on a hard rain cruise in the outside world.

from swirling, murky, underground sub-urban waters, corrupt sewer rats, and giant fish who do not chew their food, the tin soldier manages to get back home, shaken yet relatively unscathed, to his beloved ballerina. but just when everything seemed to be okay, the child who owned the tin soldier suddenly snatched him and for no reason whatsoever, threw him into the fireplace, sending him into a blazing grave. remaining steadfast, he could only look with the saddest eyes at his beautiful ballerina, as she at him. fate, how ever twisted it may be at times, has a way of making things happen... a swift breeze sweeps the ballerina off her one-legged stance and straight into the fire she went, reunited with her brave tin soldier.


the day after, when the ashes of the fireplace were being cleaned, found was an obviously melted object, made of tin... in the shape of a little heart.

Hans Christian Andersen's works include: Thumbelina, The Little Mermaid, The Princess & The Pea, The Ugly Duckling, The Emperor's New Clothes, and many more. truly, he is one of most celebrated authors in Denmark, if not in the world. evidenced by the celebration of his 200th year birthday in Copenhagen's Parken National Stadium on the 2nd of April in 2005... the grandest of shows that included attendees such as the Danish & English royalty, and ambassadors from all over the globe.


the celebration, of course, would not be complete without an A-list line up of artists to perform and honor the memory of Hans Christian Andersen...


and that includes Safri Duo, who did their own interpretation of Den Standhaftige Tinsoldat with one of their songs, Rise (Leave Me Alone) which features Clark Anderson on vocals...




and which also happens to be one of my FAVORITE songs!
so, go figure... hehehe!

RISE Here

Per iL Mio Muse

Holiday in Your Arms


there once was a boy,
who thought he'd seen it all...

'til he saw you and said,
you felt like white christmas morn'.

he excitedly unfastened his presents, boxed-up...
and words sprung once again from his almost-empty cup.

there was no christmas tree, no tinsel, nor fancy lanterns lit...
there was only you in his eyes, and that alone, for him was fit.

you may not know him---yet, this puppet-stringged boy, who'd want to be free...
the same boy who--- from afar admires you, this same boy would be... me.

Per iL Mio Muse

i fell for The Boy that's on TV


i am, by nature, not a man of plans...
my datebook, as wide open as a right fielder...
yet, even now i try to fill it with the hypothetical you...
to pencil you in or whatever.
the Jennifer Paige on you...

Per iL Mio Muse (a Trilogy)

i...

i wish you could'a seen me today.
i wish you'd remember me too.
i wish i had the balls to ask you out.
i wish i knew what to do...



ii...

i am technically looking up
at the same sky as you...
but, i will never get to know you like they do...
this is my "once upon a time"...
and i know not when again
your eyes shall meet mine.



iii...

i was an angel in the outfield today...
swung by and dropped a song on love...
you were there without yourself...
only a trace of you,
like book marks on a shelf...
i hope you saw me, as i sped through
and really did see...
how my fondness of you
brought me home from my misery.

Cerulean Lecture

This, STUFF? Owh! Okay... I see... You think this has nothing to do with you. You, go to your closet and you select *I dunno* that lumpy blue sweater for instance, because you're trying to tell the world that you take yourself too seriously to care about what you put on your back... but, what you don't know is that, that sweater is not just blue, it's not turquoise, it's not lapis... it's actually cerulean. And you're also blindly unaware of the fact that in 2002, Oscar Dela Renta did a collection of cerulean gowns and then, I think it was Yves Saint Laurent, *wasn't it?* who showed cerulean military jackets... *I think we need a jacket here* and then cerulean quickly showed up in the collections of 8 different designers... and then it filtered down through the department stores... and then trickled on down into some tragic, casual corner, where you *no doubt* fished it out of some clearance bin. However, that blue represents millions of dollars and countless jobs... and it's sort of comical how you think that you've made a choice that exempts you from the fashion industry, when in fact, you're wearing a sweater that was selected for you by the people in this room... from a pile of STUFF!

Twisted Pinocchio...

i want to be a real boy...
again.

i... supposedly, miss you.

sometimes, we say "i don't know", "maybe", or even a flat "no" when what we really mean is, "yes! but first, le'mme clean my act up... so, please hold that thought & i'll be right with ya, ASAP." it's not exactly a FedEx sales pitch, but it's a work in progress if i do say so myself.

have you ever had that amazing connection (spark -even!) with a certain someone and you just knew right in your guts that you'll be happy with that person, but for reasons beyond your control, it just wasn't a good time and/or words just got (or did not get) in the way?

why can't we just say what we mean and mean what we say? when back in the caveman days, all it took were badly drawn stick people and what pretty much looked like a wild boar to say, "the hunt is on"... maybe it is better that we draw monochromatic pictures on walls when communicating... after all, a picture is worth a thousand words and that should pretty much say a lot.

but what good is a thousand or even two thousand of these words if you don't mean them? probably worth as much as a Mona Lisa postcard in a bookstore. that's her alright... the smile, hues, sfumato, and all. but the magic of that mysterious smile... the awe and wonder of being in the presence of the real Mona Lisa... is not there. much like the words, "i miss you" that are dropped out of routine or habitual response.

it is, however, pardonable... we're programmed that way. non-physical contact for varying lengths of time deemed relatively long enough by a person triggers an auto-response, i miss you.

as equals...

this world is filled with much joy to overpower one's depression...
it is, however, complemented with much more woe so as to place one on the fence.

surreal dyad...

is morning the herald of hope?
i asked...

mornings, the songs of those who look and find hope in them,
was your reply...

to which, i said...
then why do i dread the coming of light?

and you didn't respond...

i turned and walk away, disappointed.

you only dread because you refuse it...
was your resounding answer to my back.

and under my breath, i muttered...
no, it refuses me.

Dear Africa...

never believe all the negativity you see on television shows, movies, and other media. this world is not festered with hate... nor is it dominated by those whose lust for power have cost them their souls. it is not made up of 2-faced, big-haired, backstabbing, arrogant, pompous, self-serving, sons'a bitches... no no no. heed me well my dear, Africa... it is much worse.