I Found my Voice

I lost my voice…

When my fingers stopped typing on a keyboard.

.
[ Now, no body could hear me ]
.

I became mute to my own self, 

plus deaf to my own feelings…
.

[ I lost communication ]
.

I silenced myself

to the point where silence

became me

.

but there, 

somewhere…
.

in the mist of my quietude,

you noticed the silence,

.

and just like that
.

you

silenced the silence

in me

.
Written by:L.L

Different Sort Of Ideas

There are plenty of ideas

for one to explore alone

as if those ideas were mountains

ready to be climbed.

But turns out, that some ideas are too steep

for one to walk on our own. Instead,

one needs a rope, climbing shoes, some equipment,

and most importantly, companions

like the will and the strength to go on

.

.

On the other hand, there are some ideas

that will take us just around the park,

for us to swing and play on a playground;

to meet new friends

with whom we can sit on a sea saw,

going up and down, up and down

with our arguments, having fun, enjoying the experience

until one has to go home

to meet again on another time

.

.

Yet no matter where the ideas take us,

these ideas always introduces us

to a new journey in our lives.
.

Written by :L.L.
Dec 13, 2015

Do You See What The Problem Is?

Do you see that peach on that tree?

The one that hangs so tightly free?

.

The winds come and graze his skin

The Tree nourishes him from within.

.

The sun illuminates him throughly.

The birds salivate for his body .

.

Do you see…? 

.

.

I want to be like him

.

.

Just hanging faithfully in there

for what may come one day

.

.

till I mature
( be ripen off by time )
then fall off that Tree

.

.

and be eaten

or become

.

.

dirt

.

.
Do you see?
.

.

Written by: L.L.

Needle-Like

At the bottomof the button of a rose,

there stemmed a needle-like

with thorns,

.

.

And when I got sadder,
I just gripped it tighter

and I pulled the flower…

.

.

and with it,

I sewed my dripping heart
….
apart.

Written by: L.L.
Oct 20,2016

Dilemma Of Appreciation

I can’t seem to understand,the mysteries of life.

But then again,

If I understood them,

would they still be mysteries?

.

.
For instance…

.

.
Love is a mystery to our souls.

We know what it is,

How it feels,

but can’t truly explain it with words

Because ultimately

Love is a mystery meant to remain like so

.

.

Just like the rose:
a flower with thorns

whose beauty is meant to be appreciated

rather than be pondered upon
except…
that I usually appreciate the most

that which I have fully understood.

Written by: L.L.

Repeating without repeating myself

I have not repeated myself as much as before….

.

When I wrote,

the repetition seemed to repeat often.

But bare in mind,

that often,

I tried repeating the same repetition without repeating myself.

Hence, the task became too repetitive

that I ended up no repeating myself in the process.

.

.

So I learned that being repetitive,

not always end up in repetition, or wait?

.

.

Did I just repeat myself?

Written by: L.L.

In This Web

I cannot explain the way I feel…Today.

.

.

These feelings are complex.

.

.

It’s no longer,

the I feel sad or the I feel happy.

.

.
It’s more of

I’m in reality

and in the imagination;

as if I am

stranded on Mars

but roaming my dear Earth

while wondering if

the internet

is a safe place
.

.

I mean, it also has walls

And there’s also a police

.

.

Plus, the net

is supposed to capture…

.

.
Yet, 

.

.

here I am

.

.

Captured

.

.

within this web

.

.

of

.

.

Poetry.

.

.

Am I a criminal? Or am I some prey?

Why am I here Today?

Written by: L.L.

At Any Moment Now

I’ll write about the color white

just take a look and see the sky

sometimes it’s blue

sometimes is black

just like the ocean

when a ship is wrecked

and its petroleum is spilled

just like I was
.

.

.

but I’ll still write about the color white

just take a look at my blouse

It was red

more like a pink

but after washing it with bleach,

it turned…

.

.

.

Where is that I was?

.

.

.
somewhere in the laundry room

near detergents

that smell too good

.

.

.
But it doesn’t matter now…

.

.

.

I’ll still write about the color white

😛
Written by:L.L.

That’s the Truth

The truth is…
a key on my keyboard

not functioning correctly,
(the space key is.)

I tried to use it

but as many times as I did

only sometimes did it work
most of the times

the space key 

didn’t give me any space
it piled up all the words in a line
unable for people

to understand
That’s the truth.

Written by: L.L.