When I think of home I…

Feel the salty breeze of the early morn with a taste that’s sweet,
I hear the burgeoning noise as vehicles start to fill the streets.
Then I behold the sounds of the alarms that wake my kin,
I then sense a speck of light that come from down the stairs,
It tells me that dad, I’m sure you’ve made it first again.
How it all seemed ordinary yesterday,
Why do I look back as if it was of a century ago?
If only I could set foot on you by simply closing my eyes,
I most certainly will without any doubt.
My dearest Zamboanga,
It is you that I long to see again.

My Liquid Dreams

Little by little you let them through,
Each particle can fill your every gut.
Then it goes…
Your senses suddenly lift you up,
Yet the same story goes…
You submerge yourself to feel alive again.

That feeling…

I miss how when I move my palm around its neck,

My fingers also come to life and together they come in synch.

The motion sets a rhythm that makes my heart pound,

It feels far more greater as the distortion begins to resound.