Saturday, November 19, 2011as chronicled by
Désolé Boy Labels:
exposition of vivid apparition, on the pensieve, Spinning Bile
Somewhere along the calm of the night, someone is writing.
Oh Helena, I am alone
Must you take me with Thee?
Must you and I take flee?
Carry me with you, Helena
to the bursting bliss of Thy Peace
where darkness never cease.
This tender madness,
this hideous duress
no more I could bear.
Oh why my goddess Helena
must the light be so cruel,
so illusive, so abusive?
Spare me from this bright abyss
such horror of sorrow
such despair that is tomorrow.
Lift me towards your darkness.
…so our fervent poet wrote. The Moon, almost on its fullness, peers through in between of the blinds, joining the mild ghostly flickering light of candles. The poet writes furiously, running after metaphors and rhymes, afraid of them escaping his long-fingered bony hand before dawn arrives.
He quivers as the mild icy breeze of the Northern night whispers behind his ears. Loose pieces of papers spiraled in an invisible line. At once, they kissed the floor joining a clutter of pieces branded with strange lines and blackened dots.
The poet avoided the Sun in exchange for the Moon and the Stars. He writes at midnight thinking the darkened sky would hide him from the blinding brightness of sunshine. He hopes in darkness, he’ll be able to see better; that the deafening silence and calm of the night will carry him away from the many illusions of Light. In this, the poet becomes a creature of the dark.
For now, the last line was brandished. It’s almost dawn. Come dusk, the poet shall once again rise.
Good night tiny humans.
A little less past midnight, 20th of August, Laoag City, Ilocos Norte
photo credit: a shot of "Diary of a Time Bomb" (oil canvas, Diptych, 60 in x 96 in) by Ronald Caringal
at exactly 10:42 PM