It's a happy day as I see the swaggering of the cloth,
birds singing melodious songs, and children poking fun.
The gentle hands that cradle me baked too stiff.
My body is tender like I was mugged by a hundred men,
I jolt and budge, like a trout out of water,
to ease the growing pain.
Then my stomach growled, I wailed out loud.
Like there's an urchin inside, walking--
And there the creature move from side to side
As I see my stomach bulge from end to end--
his feet punishing me again and again.
I rest my head on her feeble hand
as she strokes my hair to wipe the sweat.
My scalding head had toasted my brain,
my eyes have sunken in its progressive state.
All hopes were gone and tempers flared
when I thrown up their tender care.
The hope of life is slowly draining;
more is lost, more than I take.

I felt someone with a sturdy hand,
he carries with him a tilted cap
like a drunkard who care not of its median.

He walks with an easy gait
like a column-braced person
its shoulder steady and his hands swaying
marching with his feet
A trait he took from saving the world like zorro.

His eyes is ringed by blue
that reveals his first calling --
Past his birthplace through the dense forest
where wild boars, deers, snakes, and monkeys roam
he trek, loathing at the invite of the steep ravine
as high as Taipei 101,
fighting the hands
of the river that pull every step
even with monkey feet
open to a stairs of paddies
build with bare hands
to reach out and blubber A, B, and C.

He is dressed casually with slacks and short sleeves polo,
but his shoes got a life of its own --
blaring black at the clouds and its sole is creamed
with mud like his father tilled the land and secure the cow.

His donut lips draw the hurdles
he successfully own with a smirk.

A man, walking beside me,
grabbed my hand,
he waited for his son for a snack.

The hair is black, dark of that a coal.
So rigid, like that of the Gladiator's helmet.
So stylish, it will never go out of mode.
Cut decently, to present a handsome face.

The hair have a personality, that will make you envy.
A great command, that will lead you to do wrong.
An adventure, the extension of my soul.
An attitude of stiffness and attention.

The hair will carry remorse, anxiety, shame
A masterpiece -- intelligently sculptured
Like a crown that magnifies a mogul man;
Like the latest tech gizmos, it quantifies me.

I felt silent,
of this visitor's daggering words.
I was caught dumbfounded.
My free flowing brain like the rapids of the river
came to a halt, frozen by a bit**.

I was silent,
rehearsing upright attitudes,
debating with the devil the right way to do.
Laughing myself to a favored sin.
Playing around the outward remark.

i kept silent,
trying desperately to fish out words of defense,
smartly criss crossing in the fastlane a philosopher.
Weighing each earned values.
Making me blank in shame.

I am silent,
Leaving the situation to the churns of the bells.
Caressed my face for another whack of unlearned finesse.
Carefully listening at his head-banging actions.
Hurting myself indefinitely.

Traversing from home to school on a desert day,
Getting nauseous at the dangerous metals
Exhausted by grimy diesel eaters,
On a turtle traffic.

The sound of the familiar twing-twing
Like the strum of a guitar
Relinquished my uneasiness
Anticipating
 an unending texting
On a wild bone-breaking ride.

I held it high when a wavering head
Erratically moving infront of me
Dazed my eyes.

I gave off sheepy eyes and questioning stares
Which no one saw even with stressed movement.
I lowered my glare to continue my stroke-initiating SMS.
When a light passed my sight to discover a dilapidated
Cameraphone on my hand.


*text = SMS.