eros the bittersweet

my soul falls silent, the depth of that
which i cannot fathom swallows me
this story taking its space in the
crowded chambers of remembering
the bittersweet hours i spent lying
in your arms
gazing at a shooting star in this
dense, dark, betraying night
mending the solace so i may find
you in it again
and offer you my heart,
precariously needing to be
the one that breathes for you in
this solitude
the one drenched by the stillness of
chasing your voice
long after you have uttered your
goodbye.

Posted by imani at 6:11 AM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

this soul unravelling
the chaos brought by the
distance and the clouds
mystefied by the songs
you hum in the midst of
senselessness, yearning to be
the one you seek when
the night breaks and the
darkness wraps everything
in oblivion, aching to be
the electric blue that tremble
when you shut your eyes
to imagine serendipity.

Posted by imani at 11:38 PM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

last saturday morning, while batch 103, aena and myself pondered on how we can easily 'burn' all that we just ate for lunch, an interesting topic was brought up.

just how many kinds of women are there? this question urged us all to consider 'grouping' them. so the following categories were borne of that 'debate':

CERTIFIED - these are women who have proven their femininity by bearing children.

LEGIT - now we are talking about straight women.

NATURAL - this category pertain to people like myself...naturally a woman but is inclined to the same gender.

NATURALIZED - this refers to our brothers who sooner or later realized that they are men trapped in a woman's body. welcome to the pack!

thanks to faith - one of the coolest trainees i have ever met and now my friend - for this piece and for your wisdom and humor.

Posted by imani at 11:46 AM | 0 comments    
Labels: freefall

chastised to the brambles and thorns
that emerge from your timid stares
the bright, intense emeralds that
follow my shadow
shaken by your touch,
still as a stone
drenched by the waters of your
fragrance
lost and lonesome in the recollection
of how you uttered my name,
of winters and solitude
of searching and waiting.

Posted by imani at 11:31 AM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

your hand the petals
of loneliness
borne or gravity and
distance
your gaze
magnify statues falling
silent as the dawn
hastens desolately
memory urges me to
forget seconds and spaces,
as wind and flame
devour images of you
drawn on arched,
hidden flowers that
exist in my dream.

Posted by imani at 4:19 PM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

haunted by the opaque
shadow of your absence
the pain echoes, voicelessness
reverberates in nothingness
i ache for the windows
to open, for the scent
of your light
to drown the room
famished, halted, parched
restless like air
the roots of my desire
seeks a beginning
for these words to
praise your fire.

Posted by imani at 4:19 PM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

the night arrives
treacherous and tarnished
with the unaltered
yearning for you ~
my Svengali captor
~ a temptress and a sleepwalker
urging, pushing, taking me
to the bounds of
reason and unreason,
fumbling, falling
deeper still,
a rush of blood in my veins
a high on the glistening
saccharine of your smile
awaiting the next darkness
to unfold.

Posted by imani at 2:53 PM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

calliope

lives
breathes
consumes
chases
the small, insignificant
dusts of my desire

resurrects
permeats
heightens
indulges
in the bright fragments
of stars racing in my memory

arrests
maims
distracts
hinders
my disbelief in truths
my doubt in things
coming to an end.

Posted by imani at 7:41 AM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

the landscape of your
soul is burdened
with mysteries and
untruths, a chasm
of wild, ravaging
simplicity - of your
stares that give
birth to fire
feeding on the intimacy
of motionless twilights,
left with infinities
smaller than the ones
that spring from
your lips,
the nagging, relentless,
somber days
without you,
impossibilities making me
linger still.

Posted by imani at 7:30 AM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica

your bends of
thought,
the ‘while’ taking
too long,
apropos,
the innate sound
of a weakened silence
my words tremble
through the curves
of your mouth
as the cigarette
touches the uncanny
twists of your
bones,
the smoke and
light ascends,
the fragile
earth of my body
battered by
the unconsumed
ghosts that lay
hidden in my
wake,
my eyes circle the
inevitable,
the distant flower
of hurts and
misunderstood pain
accepting its fate,
spiraling to its
conclusion.

Posted by imani at 11:27 PM | 0 comments    
Labels: ars poetica