XMas

Nonfiction by | December 21, 2008

When I was younger, met the -ber months with anticipation. I knew then that gifts, parties, and family reunions were not far off. Chill wind, Christmas carols, and dazzling lights: there was magic in the air. But above all, what I looked forward to in Christmas was the gift from Santa Claus.

My parents taught me to believe in Santa Claus. I did, hook, line and sinker. Who wouldn’t, with everyone at home in cahoots? My brothers would say that they saw huge foot prints in the garden. Our maid would say that she swept up stardust. I believed it all until I was in sixth grade.

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Musings on a Bus Ride

Poetry by | September 21, 2008

As I sit here beside you
I realize how our lives are enmeshed
intertwined like our hands now
That when you’ll let go
My hand can still scratch, hold, touch
do what hands normally do
but it will always grope for yours
Seek your sweaty palms
Miss it’s warmth
Feel empty with the spaces
in between my fingers which
your long tapered fingers
with dirty uneven nails usually fill

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Floraine is an industrial engineer, MBA student and aspiring entrepreneur. You may visit her blog at floraine.blogspot.com.

Ode to a Boxer

Poetry by | September 21, 2008

For the losses I made in favor of Larios
For the nausea I got from seeing your face almost everywhere
For the earache I got from hearing your songs
For actually finding myself humming Para Sa’yo (Last F*cking Song Syndrome)
For being popular and filthy rich
For that Jose Rizal ‘do
In the spirit of crab mentality
For lack of anything better to say:
I hate you!

—-
Floraine is an industrial engineer, MBA student, and aspiring entrepreneur. You may visit her blog at floraine.blogspot.com