Poisoned Chalice

Chalice in hand, held by unsteady fingers,

Contents bubbling, smell is sickening, guaranteed to make a killing,

Tipped then forced down your gullet, by your hand at your command,

Down goes the poison and now your insides are corroded,

Yet you’re sitting, waiting, for they that vexed you to meet their maker,

Though you’re the one that swallowed it, the world around you quickly fading,

The script been flipped, they were supposed to take the punishment,

Should’ve listened to Buddha in matters of holding onto anger,

You think you’ve got ‘em poisoned but in the end it’s you that ends up suffering,

Bearing that weight to spite and remind them that they are bottom-feeding, no-good, foul little cretins while those joints of yours are straining,

To hell with lifting your feet up, you’re thinking, keep it pressed against their necks,

Choke the life out of ‘em, metaphorically, make sure they never forget,

Do tell, Dear Friend, why hold onto wounds from the past?

How do you expect to heal when you keep picking at the scabs?

You think they’re fretting over sins? They’ve likely moved on from that shit,

Forged new lives, perhaps redeemed themselves, it’s been and done and buried deep,

Maybe they never cared, if your description of them’s accurate then they must be sociopathic,

Those types never give a thought to the chaos they create, they’re a special breed indeed,

Why not go another direction? Turn that anger into kindness?

Forgive then let go instead, finally, belatedly, take your foot off their necks.

You’re likely aghast, wondering why show them any mercy? It’s akin to condoning what they did, miss you with that shit,

You’ve got it wrong, though, no one’s asking you to let it slide,

But are such folks worth the effort required to carry hatred with you all your life?

You got to this point intact but choose to stay mad at ‘em,

You’re not hurting ‘em or beating ‘em, if anything just empowering ‘em by choosing to stay their victim,

Forgive them, Friend, drop the load and catch your breath,

Your time on earth is limited, why waste it caught up in these feelings?

Gotta keep your eyes on the road, the only way is forward,

Can’t look at the rearview for too long ‘lest you get into an accident,

So go ahead, let them go and set yourself free,

Life will be so much better, you’ll see.

The Block

Been here before, numerous times, at this point lost count,

Call it a speed bump, call it a trap, length of time spent here vary across the map,

The bane of many a writer, y’all know what it’s all about,

Once again traipsin’ around The Block, driven berserk by the ticking of the clock,

Charged out the gates armed with ideas, stacks of lines and chapters waiting to be written,

On a roll of sorts before Humpty Dumpty had a fall, just can’t make sense of it at all,

Reviewing the battle plan once more, looking for different avenues to cross, hopefully to then piece it all together, to make art from out the rubble,

Alas, it’s no use, dead ends in all directions, no telling how long we’re stuck,

Escape will take patience and, perhaps, a heavy dose of luck,

Thus opens a new fork in the road, no turning back from either option,

To wave the proverbial flag and walk or to grit those teeth and soldier on,

Really comes down to your dedication with this art that you’re creating,

Got something important to say? Maybe bills to pay?

Maybe you’re just passing time through creating, normal life will go unaffected,

If real life depends on it, if the message is worth spreading you’ll find a way to push through,

Been here before, why stop now? Think back to why you’d started, the cliché rings true,

If not then drop it, walk away then begin anew, maybe come back to it later, once time and wisdom brought about with it some answers,

Find a way or an excuse, the rest is up to you,

How bad do you want it? Will you leave or stay stuck in this place? Rise above or be consumed by it? Find a way or walk away? Better ask yourself some questions.

The Final Level part 3

Chapter three, we’ve finally made it, the final level inching closer towards completion,

Barely holding onto that proverbial rope, it’s cracked and fraying while palms are bleeding,

Prepping for that final boss, taking care of its minions first,

Trials, assessments and exams galore, a carefree life exists no more,

Outside those gates, learning the inner workings behind the driver’s seat,

Been at it for one year already, locked on towards those red Ps,

Life at home base remains stable, though chipping on the surface,

Unsure if it’s wear and tear or a slow-paced crumbling,

Tensions mounting, taking a wee bit longer to resolve, at times those glory years feel like mere hallucinations, might as well had never happened at all,

Can’t forget that day, another explosive row between them three, retreated to the sanctuary, teens shed tears only under the veil of privacy,

Feeling the heat from some of the relos, nothing like pressure to create diamonds,

It also busts pipes, bet they didn’t know it, that’s how your guy here be feeling it,

There’s also the retreat, lasted two days and one night in an idyllic setting to ‘find ourselves’, that’s the bullshit they’re preaching,

Didn’t quite go as planned, yours truly got a revelation instead, any semblance of acceptance pretty much gone and fucking dead,

Couldn’t even shower in peace, the trolls were frothing and let loose,

No deadly kinky prison shit in here, but literal mudslinging was put to malicious use,

Way to convince a guy that he’s alone, fuck it, so be it,

Won’t rattle y’alls cages anymore, I’ll gladly go off on my lonesome,

Can’t lie, some friendly folks remained, well-meaning and approachable, unlike the snakes that went right for the jugular,

Treated them in kind but stopped short of letting them in, never know if wolves are lurking within, gotta be wary of whom I be trustin’,

Don’t bother asking ‘bout girls, dating or anything of the sort, no time for any of that, not while tests, gen pop and expectations are on riding my back,

Not that they’re checking for your boy and the feeling was mutual, at this rate will probably fly the skies without a co-pilot, off to the great unknown alone,

Every waking moment between classes spent in the library, a refuge from the bullies and the politics,

Finding a safe haven between shelves, can’t remember the categories but one of them was music,

Flicking through pages until the chiming of the bell, before another onslaught of assessments and unwanted interactions, life on campus a special kind of hell,

Speaking of, they say there’s a place reserved for those that take matters into their own hands,

Never did plan on turning towards a permanent solution, but to say I ain’t ever thought about it would be lyin’ about it.

Photograph

Took a trip down memory lane one day, flicking through that photo album,

So many fond memories, some of ‘em forgotten,

Stumbled upon one from kindergarten years, featured two cute little kids,

One of ‘em yours truly, you being the other, ain’t seen you in years and years,

How we came to share a snap, kind of a funny story, that,

Never were buddies, nor did we interact, boys and girls tend to stick to their own, just a matter of fact,

Parents’ Day was the catalyst, school putting together a celebration, kiddies dancing with one another, that’s how we wound up partners,

Recollections of that day hazy, been more than thirty, feels like a lifetime,

So many highs and lows since, it lies buried deep beneath layers of grime,

This artefact remains the only proof of its occurrence and also our shared existence,

Which, by that time, had become numbered, year’s end brought with it drastic changes,

Both of us destined to leave The Islands, this boy and his fam first cab off the ranks,

Bound for the Land Down Under, a better life lay ahead, so promised the parents,

Heard from the grapevine that you and your folks were bound for the Land Of Opportunity, traveling to opposite sides of the globe,

Never crossed paths again, our time in one anothers’ stories ended,

Can’t lie, looking at this picture kinda makes me wonder where you’re at,

If you yourself possess a keepsake, also how life had turned out for you,

Are you still up there in the States? Maybe moved overseas? Maybe returned to the Philippines?

Married and had you a bunch of kids? Flying solo like many today are wont to do? Wherever you are, hope it all worked out well for you,

Maybe we’d crossed paths by accident over the years, this kid grew up to be quite a traveller, maybe you’d taken a similar path, it’s just one of many possibilities,

But at the end of the day it’s all speculation, don’t get me wrong, I ain’t simping or wishing and hoping,

We were six at the time, too early to be thinking about romance, barely even got to talking, though the classmates did their share of trolling,

About how we’d grow old together, apparently dance partners make good life partners,

Despite the lack of an emotional connection or signs of affection holding hands is enough for a happily ever after,

I wonder if you remember that or even noticed, kinda amusing now just thinking about it,

Kids say the darndest things, always jumping straight to conclusions,

Just to let you know, I’m doing alright, got up to this point mostly intact, been some challenges along the way but everyone goes through that,

Taking it all one step at a time, it’s really the best that we can do, take your time, pay others no mind, it’s your own path, how it goes only you determine that,

Anyway, just the musings of a man taking a trip back in time, come to think of it, what do you suppose our fellow peers are up to?

Just something to reflect over during whatever downtime we can spare, which, in adulthood, is just so damn rare.

Dear Shorty

Dear Shorty, this is your inner-self talking, addressing you and others in our position,

You’re down about something, same old thing, trivial at first glance,

Takes one to know it first-hand, the lucky ones won’t understand,

Day after day waking and hoping you’d climbed a few rungs,

Plucked from the land of the vertically-challenged, from the jerks and their ceaseless trolling,

Sure, you’re in the mid-teens, still some years before those plates freeze,

Sadly, the genetics have the final say, but you’re counting on miracles anyway,

A genetic rebellion remains unlikely, gotta face facts, Buddy,

Ain’t no way will you play in the NBA, but keep that chin up, Son, everything will be ok.

Height, it’s a touchy subject, especially among dudes,

In matters of courting, a potential deal-breaker, it’s an unfortunate truth,

‘He’s a ten’, some are saying, ‘shame that he’s too short,’

God help you if you’re standing under six, can’t pass that trait over to her future kids,

Not much you can do about it, though, it’s beyond your control,

Pounds can melt, muscles gained, degrees earned and promotional ladders climbed,

But unless you come from a line of living skyscrapers you’ll remain a tiny little cabin,

Sorry to break it to ya, Mate, but neither of yours fit the description,

Ditto their folks and so on, a break in the pattern ain’t happening,

It sucks to be you, life is unfair, bet that’s what you’re thinking.

But while the frustration’s kinda understandable, you’re looking the fool by playing victim,

Can’t do nothing about it so why not instead aim to be more productive,

What you lack in height you can make up for in character and intelligence,

Carve your own glorious future, learn to win over others, watch that lack of height fade into irrelevance,

Peep at fellow manlets thriving like they’re big men on campus, got the girl, making bank, popular among peers, living like kings,

What were their excuses? Nothing, they rose above perceived limitations, defined their mission and their purpose then chipped away, moving mountains,

People are entitled to their preferences, you’re not made for everyone,

Doesn’t permit you to force or beg for their affections, people have a right to their standards,

Though there are the malicious and shallow, judging strictly on appearances and dimensions,

Won’t get anywhere with ‘em, they never deserved your time and energy anyway,

Kick them to the curb, make room for those that choose you,

The ones that’ll take you for all of you, those are your type of people.

The passing of time brings with it upgrades in technology,

Can now defy your genetics through science and manipulation,

Limb lengthening surgeries, once reserved for those imbalanced, becoming commonplace though no less pricey, will this cure your insecurities?

Guaranteed that bank account will suffer, procedure and airfares must be covered, more likely than not gotta head to another land, in the care of total strangers,

Prepare to have those legs broken, bits and pieces put in ya, designed to stretch those bones longer,

A lengthy recovery period awaits ya, any of that leave your stomach churning?

Sure you’ll be taller, but a price must be paid, long term effects could be debilitating, will you risk it just to be accepted by others?

Be your own authentic self, work on yourself daily,

Short king or victim, the choice is yours, clear as day which way is appealing,

Why get caught up in where you’re lacking, you still have much going for ya,

Go all-in with the cards you’re dealt, come out your shell and make friends, never know what or whom you’ll get,

Work at it daily and watch yourself evolve, grow in ways you never thought, your stature won’t matter anymore,

The world is still yours, King, but you gotta earn it if you want it,

Go fourth and conquer, one day you’ll be a giant among men.