sonnet to london

can you imagine souls of riches past
embedded here, entombed within these walls?
and time and time again the years fly fast
so man's attempt at happiness just falls.
in london town, there's just so much to see --
the lay, the noble, palace grounds, the poor,
the street performers, beggars, you and me --
and can't experience all in one bus tour.
but that's what makes dear london so unique:
the streets that don't align and roads that bend
give off an aura that one wants to seek.
and with its love, on journeys, it will send.
i know for sure i'll miss it in my heart --
but in my mind, we're not that far apart.

conversation with god

on a jesuit hymnsong by fr. manoling francisco, sj.

if there's one more gift i'd ask of you, lord,
it would be peace here on earth --
as gentle as your children's laughter,
all around, all around.

your people have grown weary
of living in confusion
when will we realize that neither
heaven is at peace
when we live not in peace

if there's one more gift i'd ask of you, lord,
it would be love among man
as pure as all the angel's voices
all around, all around

grant me serenity within
for the confusions around are mere reflections of
what's within
what's within me

if there's one more gift i'd ask of you, lord,
it would be truth in all i see
as powerful as how you saved us
all around, all around

why miguel hasn't "written" much in over a year.

you might notice that the poems here are separated clearly by about a year of inactivity.

call it what you must, but i decided to not write any poems in that span of time, from early march of 2003 until mid-march of 2004. many things had been going on, and i felt like poetry wasn't an adequate enough way of expressing myself because it felt a bit too repetitive and trying.

i've missed it.

and then i remembered how liberating and exhilarating this medium was, and here i am, writing to you, dear reader, about my intentions, which whould be nothing short of the following: self-expression, social awareness, frustration, opinionating, and of course, qualitatively evaluating my existence as time dictates where i am.

and you, dear reader, i plead two things: to read, and to critique.

as my voice is heard, make yours.

give me a blurb.

sometimes i wish i never met you

sometimes i wish i never met you
for lack of better things to say
because you somehow manage to
every time, make me feel like a

lovefool
lovefool.

and in that time i can't ever say
how you feel or what you're thinking,
but you're probably smiling and
five steps ahead of me when you make me

sigh, drool
sigh, drool.

you know you're in my dreams at night
and in the morning when the sun greets hi
when the chill of the night sends a chill down my spine
and thinking of you does it twenty more times.

oh me, oh my.
oh me, oh my.

sometimes i wish i never met you
because you make me feel so good
and i'm a pessimist.
so in my mind, it'll never work out.

it's too much for me.
soon i hope you'll see

why i should never have met you.
we're never meant to be.
look at how different --
SAME -- we are.

i think i know you know.
you think i know you know.

sigh. drool.
lovefool.