How Difficult Is It To Write Fiction

What is so difficult about fiction writing?
One, you have to make up about your feelings.
Two, you have to create a perfect world quite parallel to your own.
Three create characters from your own world, change their names and add strange details about them.
Four, think about the structure of your story.
Five, think about the audience.
Six, Is this Young Adult? Romance? Sci-fi? Suspense?
And seven, the fact that that one person who inspired you to write might read it. And feel great instead of feeling ruined by having his penis chopped off in the story and the book becomes a bestseller. Or something like that.

A Letter From The Past

A letter from the past
Has made its way through boxes
from shelves.
The familiar strokes, words that only
He would use in writing
But some that he could never admit
when asked.

I read it slowly
all previous hopes and dreams
Fears and doubts are answered.
This man of whom I asked
‘If the earth was round,
Wouldn’t it be easier for you
to come home in the evening?’

This letter from the past
Had come back from boxes and shelves
It made its way just in time for healing.
But its too late to amend
All other wounds and feelings.
All I know, all I knew, all I didn’t know
Had meaning, some reasoning in this
Letter from the past.

image

I Cannot Fathom

One day I ate,
a couple of salted flakes
Mom and dad were joining me
and my brother too.
I wondered where my other brother went?

One day my master’s slave
Opened a crack on the huge wall.
Another human being came
She carried daddy’s old pink house.
I’ve never seen this person before.
But mom and dad purred at her
Like she knew something I still don’t.

She looked at me with brown eyes
They were kind, they were unsure
I knew I had to hide somewhere.
She knelt and caressed my brother,
but she looked at me as I looked at her.
She’s onto something that I don’t know.

But alas! My brother was done with breakfast.
But he hid under the “couches”.
The human looked at me
Eyes unsure, lips assured.
“I want him” and pointed to me.
Confused as I was, she picked me up.
Put me in dad’s old house

There was darkness, and then light.
There was noise! And strange scents!
The house was shaking all the time,
Who was this human?
Where am I going?
Mama? Papa? I can’t find them anywhere.
Their scents I can’t smell anywhere.

Can they find me? Will they find me?
Where is this human taking me?

Reminders, Reminders

Sulit ba ang kahirapan
Upang mapunan ang iyong karangyaan?
Kitain mo kami
Ngayon o bukas
Upang maintindihan mo
Ang aming kinabukasan
Sabi mo mahal mo
Ang bansang iyong sinilangan
Ngunit ang patuloy naming katanungan
Idinaan sa kantang
“Mahal ka ba niya talaga?”
Aminin mo lahat ng iyong binubudhi
Bago mo sabihing
Ika’y tama para sa amin.
Oo lahat ay nagkakamali
Ngunit ang mapili
Dapat parin bang gumawa ng mali?
Walang kasiguraduhan sa panahon
Ang kailangan marahil
Ay kung ano ang tama sa nakararami
Di kung ano ang para sa sarili.

Diaspora

These trees with falling leaves
Over broken hearts and shattered dreams
I’ve heard that line before
I spoke to one whore

That puzzled look
She gave to that cook
Who clutched all her pots
As the ship landed
All her nervousness understood
None of these things are needed

Once it’s been given
One cannot take it
That’s what the old man said
But why our land had been forsaken
To men and women whose names where never there?

Of Mice and Men
The whore had said
Once it’s been given
It can always be taken away
Remember child
It can always be taken away

Responsible Reader

Not all poems
Are about love.
This one screams
About troubles in dreams
Soccer players in teams
Lips covered in coffee foams
Like trees that rise above.
I meant to fill these words
With lingering feelings
Whatever swords I choose
In this dream, I find one appealing.
I’d rather doubt this feeling.
Remorse, remorse, remorse.
All these tremors I’ve been feeling.
Our concourse has ended.
You and I and her appended.

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The Fellow

I want to feel important,
As important as the avenue
I want to be somebody
As important as your revenues.

I’ve been dreaming
High and low
Like the river streaming
I’ve been thorough

Whatever gold or silver
I earn
The heart yearns passion
My mind will never quiver
For every thing I learn.
Even if the times will be over.

The times will be tough
People can be rough
When the bough breaks
You can’t be the one who cakes.

My last words to you, my fellow
Don’t put name to blame
This isn’t just a game
It is life, my fellow. It is life.

06-20-2014