Thinking about P.N.

Oh not again. I don't know why I'm thinking about Pablo Neruda again... I'd rather post his piece here.

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda

And, I'm glad you didn't forget me...

Cat's Dream

How neatly a cat sleeps,
sleeps with its paws and its posture,
sleeps with its wicked claws,
and with its unfeeling blood,
sleeps with all the rings–
a series of burnt circles–
which have formed the odd geology
of its sand-colored tail.

I should like to sleep like a cat,
with all the fur of time,
with a tongue rough as flint,
with the dry sex of fire;
and after speaking to no one,
stretch myself over the world,
over roofs and landscapes,
with a passionate desire
to hunt the rats in my dreams.

I have seen how the cat asleep
would undulate, how the night
flowed through it like dark water;
and at times, it was going to fall
or possibly plunge into
the bare deserted snowdrifts.
Sometimes it grew so much in sleep
like a tiger’s great-grandfather,
and would leap in the darkness over
rooftops, clouds and volcanoes.

Sleep, sleep cat of the night,
with episcopal ceremony
and your stone-carved moustache.
Take care of all our dreams;
control the obscurity
of our slumbering prowess
with your relentless heart
and the great ruff of your tail

by P.N.

Only when I write

Like right at this moment, finally done with four stories (my quota for this week).

It's only when I write that I feel like my life has a sort of meaning. (Grin) I'm pretty much sure that I'm not really expert on this skill, but this is the only thing I know I can do right.

Like what I always say, "It's only in writing that one can be exact." In writing, I can still delete an idea, add something that just came up, control the number of words I have to say, and even forget about the entire idea that I tried to compose.

In writing, I can take all the time in the world, as long as I know I still have enough before the deadline. And, in writing, I can have a conversation with myself without opening my mouth, like a schizophrenic.

In trying to write a story, whether something that happened in my past, or somebody's that I witnessed, or something that I totally made up for the sake of immortalizing my fantasies or imaginations, I feel like a writer. And,it's where my dream of becoming an author begins, when I feel like a writer and behave like one.

And, only in a moment like this, when I'm done with my quota and submitted them to the editor, that I feel like I'm working, and deserved remuneration. Huh! Life is good!

You're still normal!

One day in a breakfast meeting with my co-author, who is the owner of several business establishments here in the city, I spoke about a predicament preoccupying me lately.

Should I be thinking about how to make more money than how much I'm earning now? Am I already too old to plan about my career which is synonymous to income, considering that business plan or career path will cover 10-15 years?

Then, he told me, "You're still normal."

He said if I would receive a million right then and there, I might be ruined.

True enough, I don't know what to do with such big amount of money!

Let nature take its course. We all dream of a good life and need more money than what we have. But it doesn't mean that's what we want right at this moment. Good life is relative. What is good life for you, anyway? For money is but a by-product of our so-called success or should we call it fulfillment.

If one dares to venture overseas for a huge sum even without an inkling of his or her job and life there, he or she may not linger especially upon reaching at the (big word) CROSSROADS.

One must be prepared whatever risk he or she may take whether in search for a greener pasture or for a meaning or purpose of one's existence.

I finished my breakfast not only with a full stomach, but a full heart and clear mind. Maybe, we all need even a single breakfast with a friend or someone who's not akin to us, to destroy some cobwebs in our minds.

Only to be reminded that amid pressures and anxieties, we are still normal. Live life each day!

(reveal your thoughts to me at lorie.cascaro@gmail.com)

Moving on

It's time to do the real thing now that you already know what you really really want to do for the rest of your life.

Just wake up early, read and read, write and write, laugh and laugh, run, swim, climb and bike, then get enough sleep.

Experience life today!

Fairy tale as it is

They said fairy tales are for children. They believe in them but when they grow up, they started to discover reality.
I'd never believed in fairy tale even when I was a child. But, it just dawned on me that if I were to choose to believe like a child again, I would believe in fairy tale. After meeting once again someone from a long lost childhood, I decided to keep that child in me.

But then, reality never fails to slap my face! Fairy tale is just as it is... If you want to avoid nervous breakdown then keep your feet on the ground and GROW UP! So as part of being sane and appearing to be mature, I suddenly summed up everything there is in a song.


Fairy Tale

It seems what I believe is not true.
There's really no "Me and You".
It's nothing more than just a dream.
No amount of hope could make it real.

Maybe the chance came too late.
Everything's in place. We can't change fate.
Meeting you is not a chance at all.
It's just to see how high my hopes fall.

Let me swim into your thoughts.
Let me stay there for awhile.
Let me hold your hand to feel your soul in me.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory.

Sometimes I'd like to think
that we could make North and South meet;
we could swim through the ocean;
we could walk through the clouds.

Sometimes I'd like to believe
that you're the prince in my dreams;
that what I believe is true;
certainly, it's me and you.

Let me swim into your thoughts.
Let me stay there for awhile.
Let me hold your hand to feel your soul in me.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory.
Let me keep this fairy tale in my memory...

Maggots in my mind

Leave as much as you want to stay
Eat up all my preoccupation until nothing's left
As you take my brain, include my heart.
Race through my lungs until I stop breathing.
Seep through my veins until every strand is blue.
Clog my heart until it stops beating.

Leave as much as I want you to stay
Take away all of you that's left
in my heart, in my mind.

As you decide to leave, leave me a scar
like the tattoo on my calf.
Leave it black, black as my lungs.
As you leave, leave at once.
Never leave a couple of squirming worms
in my veins...

Because it doesn't matter now
If nothing's left as you leave.
A single memory that you've been here
is enough souvenir
like the tattoo on my calf
forever embedded in my skin.