wawo f. punzalan
I am Juan; I am one
I am weak; I am a human
I am a fool; I am a learner
I am a bum never lost; a parasite enclosed in this host

Long have I been a vagabond
Drifting through the infinite numbness of time
Shifting and learning from every open soul
Understanding the non-essential significant complexities of life—
With every soul can be felt a poignant sadness that'll linger forever—
The shadow of happiness

And in my unfettered wandering years
I came to understand a personal-eccentric-event turned into a feeling:
A fanciful infatuation for a guide with no glimpse of prurient desire
From the moment these tired eyes laid a glance on you peeping through those lifted steps
All that ever fluxed in this mind is the pure joyful thought of you
Like a red-orange sun rising at dawn after a sad cold night—
With a prelude of raging torrents just after dusk—
You gave just the warmth one had been longing for in his wandering days

Yet no urge of bravery to approach sprung
Lead to a year of na´ve adoration of your harsh but soft, rough but vex-free impression
Then a chance given—an imminent expensive season
One's skills outsourced and blindly appointed
Then our souls gravitated, minds elated, the feelings contentment

And now it's all clear what these eyes had seen
A guide with heavenly beauty and angelic kindness from within
She speaks with a voice like a fine-tuned harp fashioned from the skies
Her young simple soul manifested through her eyes—oh her eyes
Her big round eyes beautifies this dull world of mine
They sparkle like the constellation you'll see whilst lying beside a sea
With no light pollution; no luminous source but the bright white-rayed moonlight reflected from the sun
The longer you stare, the greater glimmering gorgeousness you'll witness
A gaze from her would turn this old-faced bum into an infatuated apple-faced young man
Such weakness cannot be unseen in front of a lovely woman

You unconsciously registered in my open mind
That my soulful inevitable existence isn't meant for a vague empty fate
Just how much ecstatic joy can one bear
If my act is to gape with just your plain stare

In life... In time...
All you need is love
In my case... From Care And Guide
—Posted: 9:00 PM 5/2/13 by eK! | Post Your Comment!

About the author. Wawo F. Punzalan, the unfettered poet from the streets of Angeles in Pampanga is formally known as Juan Karlo Flores Punzalan. He finds psychedelic "noises" (as his experimental fraternity would define) as music. Delights in nights of beer and discussion with progressives twice his age. He plans on publishing, sooner or later, his Titless book (an anthology of poems, scribbles and short stories with a bonus introduction to his envisioned film Evolution, name it with abnormalcy).
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