The Literary Bumpkin's Blog

If ever you'd feel weak, alone, and hopeless When your future grows bleak and your soul is restless When you are deprived of cheer in all your struggle Someone will shed light at the end of the tunnel If the weight of your chaos is far hefty And the plates of your banquet is all empty Fret not about it it’ll be alright Someone’s gonna do his bit to ease your plight If the yoke proves heavier than our grit And our feet are wearied ere long will quit It’s okay. What is expected from life doesn’t matter But that which life expected from us when we’re together.

Every sundown, I usually pay a visit to the nearby shore. I just do nothing but rest atop the edge of the seawall. And have my friendly feet there inextricably crossed, with my firm hands held together aloft my curiously innocent cheeks. In all my solitude, I've begun to appreciate life in all simplicity when I gaze at nothing more save the loveliness of nature. I've found them as another perfect company to slip away from the irksome noise of the world. Apparently, I've begun to love numbering the happy sands of the shore; hearing the chatty waves as they surge their way against the block;  you see, fastening my gaze onto the lovely site of the place. It was really amazing. What's more, watching these disheveled naked kids bathing into the grubby saltwater, they made me laugh and fascinated. I've barely laughed from anybody else more than they do to me. Later on, I mulled over at them. Couldn't understand how they were able to paint such lovely smiles on

Y ou are the purest thought of my everyday's language the matrix that gives sense to my embedded clauses the syntax of my meaningless phrases the commas, periods, that halt my ends and pauses You are more than the seamest juncture of my uneven syllables the rise and fall of my bland verses the modifiers that dangle in the thread of my sentences You are my every auxiliary that allows me to express my moods, aspects, and tenses the copula that annex those delicate adjectives into this unworthy subject. You are the adverb that intensifies and exaggerates the worth of my actions the preposition that brings me to my real place the conjunction that interweaves my fragmented units Who am I then but a bound morpheme, an insignificant affix in your lexical root, a broken unit of inflection a discrete shred of your noun's declension a tiny dot in your eye An unnecessary comma splice. In all

My Wena, It’s been more than two years now that I have known you. We started as friends online. You were part of an fb group I had created. Whoever added you, I had no clue, but I’d forever be beholden to that person who brought you there. You see, time flew so fast, our friendship grew slower yet sweeter. Intermittently, you chatted me only a few and far between, especially when you’re in need of somethin. Until our future robbed us of ourselves that we eventually found a mutual need for each other’s fondness. It was a shared interest— book reading— that melded our two distinct isles from the get go. It opened a conversation. Who wouldn’t admire a woman who had immense love for theological books and bought plenty of them. That’s too attractive a quality of a woman I was helplessly drawn into. For the most part, I did wish that I would meet somewhere along my saddest route a woman of your sort. I dreamt of having someone like you. But I was anxious that such wish would ever be t

I always struggle for words each time I mull over the precious moments we have been sharing together. Time indeed is too brief, much as our age no sooner will gray its slender threads . . . but the love we share together in the flying time of our individual sojourn compacts the eternity of bliss in its most condensed vessel. I’ve learned needless to say to prize the calmest breath of time; savorin its footsteps in the silent sleeps of my rhyme. I’ve learned to miss you seconds in between, Miss Rau. My mind celebrates you HOURsaries, Minutes, Weeksaries, Yes I mean it away from the loveliest gaze of your notice. I love you loudly in addition, in the open skywalk of Luzon. . . UNASHAMED CARING LITTLE how the craziest man I became! :P How I long to shout my “I love you” the way I did to the many passing vehicles beneath our unshaking feet.   HAPPY MONTHSARY, BABE!

Some people are content of just having this one thing-- Someone :) SOMEONE simple yet brave enough to hold Your hand before the watching eyes of judgmental people.  SOMEONE who can withstand with other people's taunts  and standards for love's sake. SOMEONE who doesn't care about the shits people might think. SOMEONE whose conscience is bound by Gods word  and not by other people's preference. SOMEONE who lives not for the approval of others, but for the approval of God. SOMEONE who does not pretend to people  the real score of her feelings SOMEONE who is not like those who leave you hanging in the storm and only return when the rain subsides SOMEONE who is really proud of you in a more real sense. It is so tiresome to place yourself in a boat where two people are paddling at opposing ends. 

To Miss Rowena Cedo: 1:54AM That solemn hours of the day where the hopeful sunset hadn't yet poured its rays beneath the nervous clouds. I was there in the heights of the sky numbering every celestial white that flies. Beheld the world below so tiny, so impoverished as my chance to have you. 3:00AM Til the plane condescended down so was my confidence badly waning down. I wandered along the exits of NAIA looking for a safer ride the same way my gloomy heart roamed for your loving sight. I had met charlatans on the road and vampires were there ere the daylight in its silence broke. I managed still to journey towards Lucena. Rode the bus standing. Uncomfortable. Depicted quite much my unpreparedness. 5:00AM There at the wake of the night where the anxious moon leveled the Sun as it dawned. The former was surpassed as my inner feeling went for soon i would glance her at last. 5:30AM I then took the jeepney to Lipa. I stopped at the school named FAITH—absolutely reminded me of what I

If life's been a feast and Im one of its poorest guest. . . amidst all the sumptuous dainties of delight; of all the most pleasant  dishes of life i'd be in their eyes  lesser than wise picking my all time favorite my ever-simple plain rice. with you i savor best the simplest meal on the table i take pleasure with you in the morn evening or afternoon; never fed up never weary of you... years a thousand sooner be past the banquet of dishes its tastes no more will last. . . you would forever remain  the perfect mate of life's every day meal.

Our love-story  was a  paper  in grime before the burnin' flame of time their ashes flew they're gone— like all your  promises in the mornin dew; they are eternally undone the wind had failed us to keep thence gave us its temporal weep but only for a star to die, t'would  brighten brightest in the wake of its goodbye