Victor

I.

It was perfect in a bittersweet way

The overcast day
The fresh flowers
The waiting

The shades of black and grey
The Padre Nuestro
The father’s chanting

II.

They ushered him through a maze
of flagstones well-polished by the varnish of water
and the heavy footsteps of generations of mourners.
For fifty pesos a stranger sang
as we showered him with rose petals and rain.

Amidst her wailing and her brothers’ silent despair
and the cement mixed and laid thick to immortalise him,
the sky stops crying and its blue eyes blink
and I, for a moment, stare into eternity,
into sorrow, into loss, into hope.

Avenues upon avenues of memories
in this city of the departed;
yards and yards of carnations
doing their best to defy time –
but who can resist?

Grief made her embrace linger, made us angels
without wings, and stranded on earth,
but angels nonetheless.

III.

Another Padre Nuestro
Another sigh
Another moment without him

The first of too many. Continue reading Victor

The “prophetic” song I wrote as a 7-year-old

Let me introduce you to Bluey Snowflake. She’s one of the best birthday presents I’ve ever received, a gift from my aunt when I turned 7. And because my family is all egalitarian and stuff, my sister got her birthday present at the same time even though her birthday is more than a month after mine – her name is Pinky Snowflake. We built a … Continue reading The “prophetic” song I wrote as a 7-year-old

A novel metaphor for life 2

This post was inspired by some irony. Irony about the fact that after blogging A novel metaphor for life, when I felt I’d achieved a breakthrough working on my long-awaited debut novel and was convinced it was symbolic of breakthrough in the way I see and approach my life, I haven’t really progressed at all on the aforementioned novel. I did, however, realise, that one … Continue reading A novel metaphor for life 2

two reflections on being home again

Canberra, my love Today you are stunning warm even when you’re cold cool even with your sunny disposition and I get lost in your blue sky searching for the me in you and the you that’s reflected somewhere in my heart but I think it is buried deep and yet however far beneath the surface you lie, motionless, asleep even if I were blindfolded I’d … Continue reading two reflections on being home again