Disjointed Images, Unfinished Poems
Andoy Castellano, 31 August 2006
I
I could not write the poems in my head
vivid images, negatives turning to light
whispers blasting out of drums rousing me from sleep
baby powder scent pressing recent memory to fore
II
Pendulums oscillating
keeping time
like a door's creaking
gently closing and opening
to the gathering breeze
and closing the door on its own
III
A faucet leaking
slowly dripping
loud echoing in the silence nobody hears
playing with straw and frostee
waiting to pour out, spew and shower
globs turning to drops
thick turning thin
with each succeeding instance
IV
tweaking and twiddling knobs
trying to find the music playing in your ear
of softness laced with grunts
moans and whimpers
V
wooden toy tops bouncing against one another
spinning in tandem like dance sports competitors
always pushing the other on
to keep up
in hard tapping against each other
nail head drilling incessant in play with urgency
VI
a tiny bead, a trickle, not even a rivulet
from nape rolling slowly down
tracing kiss-hungry skin, under shallow sleep
sweat-drop travelling
following where a finger traced
contour-like lines on a map
to where everything starts and ends
a finger tracing a path on a map nobody reads
VII
masked moans layered under laughter
whimpers and grunts as white noise
under blaring radio rock
and clocks ticking moments passing by
and vehicle traffic plying trade
and children playing, laughing and crying
whispers, whimpers, moans and grunts
hidden in plain hearing
VIII
the tree shakes in the gentle wind and shower
a drizzle falling to a downpour
a slight breeze growing to a gale
and like a leaf clinging precariously to branch
you gasp holding on to your breath and inhale deep
the leaf sways
eyelids flutter and your breath catches
the leaf snaps of from the tree taken by the wind
your eyes grow wide, tense
the leaf falls in slow motion corkscrewing down
flying up with the wind and rain
in stormy chaos, down and up, at random
till it dips into the mud
sopping wet, still and resting on water
floating downstream
you catch your breath as the storm subsides
IX
memories flashing past
like a basin of water down the drain
swirling faster and faster
tighter and smaller
to a singularity of moment and meaning
of nothingness
X
like an album closing on itself
pictures are hidden
to be reminisced with friends at leisure
and behind closed doors
-------------------
Note: I doubt if I can finish this poem (or poems). But the images
have been there for a while. And there are more images where these
came from.
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First posted with Pinoy Poets yahoo groups.
--andoy
31 August 2006
