cold feet

I will don my white dress tomorrow,
secretly, until the evening bell chimes
signaling the start of the ball.
I wonder if it will fit:
the couturier did not see
two peanut butter sandwiches a day coming
when she made the adjustments.

And I will have to walk
amid all the well-dressed people;
and in the bejeweled
dainty silver shoes I've hesitantly picked out,
I am bound to falter
and fall flat on my face
in front of two hundred or so guests,
more than half of whom
I do not really know.

Once it is all over,
I would have been seen by all of them
and the secret would be no more,
and the girl playing dress-up
in the white dress will be immortalized
in photographs, bound to haunt me
for the rest of my life.

Something is bound to go wrong.
But I must be careful
not to miss a step.

Dare.

Step out
onto the concrete pavement,
with its tiny cracks figured about

as vines

beneath your boring, but proper shoes.
This is not Ireland
nor Africa,

not Japan

where you long to be at this moment.
This is your place in the world
and though you can escape it

for a time,

inevitability brings you back.
If you were only a daring gypsy,
you would have cleaned out your closet

and your life

a week ago
and floated towards the exciting unknown
and beyond

independence's doorstep.

Ah. If only you were that brave
and free-spirited.
But you let yourself

be shackled

onto tradition and culture,
onto the dregs of your roots that people call "family",
which you'd rather call

"forced history".

You know that if you take a moment to stand on the pavement
and feel the people and time go by,
your feet and conviction would take you

to where you long to be.

With a little money and big dreams,
both fanatical and highly plausible,
you can survive out there.

Better.

You will be happier.
So,
will you now

step out?

If it were only as easy
as lighting a cigarette
puffing,
and letting the warmth
intoxicate you;
If it were only as wispy
as the smoke
that disappears
right before your very own
dazed eyes;



then it - and you -
would have been
very easy
to put
out.

Miles

You bring colour to my world
even from far, far away;
unknowingly.

Why?

The Quiet World

-Jeffrey McDaniel

In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.

When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.

Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.

When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.

withdrawal

Okay. After my last post, I realized I am too hooked on J-drama. Will cut off the programming starting this minute.

(As for Hiro.... he's not as easy to cut off. I must remember the following: he's married; he's a celebrity; he's miles and miles away; he doesn't and will never know I exist. Oh, and come on!!! I don't even crush on the celebrities in my own country!)

Okay. So henceforth, it will be a review of the corporate code, articles on asset protection trusts, reality shows, Oprah, maybe some un-addictive chick lits to bore myself to death, and ... some gym time.

Regular programming coming up!

Butler woes

That's it?!? That's it?!? What?!?

You have got to be kidding me. That was supposed to be the "Last Kiss", as stated in the episode title? That was their first kiss! And, what? It's also supposed to be their last; otherwise, why would it be entitled "The Last Kiss"?!?

Last kiss as butler and his lady because thereafter they'll be kissing as lovers? Last kiss EVER because of the law? WHAT?!? What kind of ending is that?!?

Horrible! Terrible!

Can somebody kick some sense into the director/s and the screenwriter/s?!? I need a continuation, special episode, succeeding episode, part two, another ending ---- whatever they can give me ---- of Mei-chan no Shitsuji!

They could just make a special episode wherein Izumi, as the Lucia-sama, abolishes the rule against lady-butler relationships and so Mei-san and Rihito can have the usual blah-blah DEFINITE happy ending.

Ugh. That one kiss was simply NOT enough. Come on! I mean, COME ON! You can't do this to me! Give me a definite ending or else I will be painting all sorts of other endings in my head all day and all night! I don't want that! The world does not want that (butterfly effect, remember?)!

Gahd! She did not even get to close her eyes when the kiss happened! Another scene! Another chance! Another episode, at least!!!

I beg you... (I could do a rain dance... or a "give-me-another-episode-for-that-Japanese-drama dance". Anything!)

Or, you can just ship Rihito to me. With his butler's garb, or without. I'm not that picky.