One again with the gods

It’s 5 A.M. when streaks of light start painting the sky with shades of pinks and purples. As we hike further, the sky turns from hazy burgundy to rose, then to rich yellow. Some of us pause to take that treasured snap; some just lovingly stare at the riot of colors. By the time we reach the peak, we are face to face with the sun. Everything the light touches turns golden — the grass, our skins, our hairs. And everything I do is stitched with its color.

Finally, I let go of my backpack and the worldly worries I have been carrying are no more. Money? Politics? Climate change? War? All gone. This is what I live for. To experience the feeling of returning home. Neither my labored breaths nor my shaky steps will hinder this renewal. I am one again with the gods.

Word count: 144

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In response to dVerse’s Prosery hosted by Lisa, who asks us to write a prose of 144 words using a given line from a poem. Today’s line is Everything I do is stitched with its color taken from W.S. Merwin’s “Separation”.

This challenge immediately took me back to my 2019 climb at Mt. Wiji. Sunrise in this mountain is still — by far — the best one I have witnessed. The low quality photo above which I took from my old phone may not give it justice, but hopefully these words will do.

Click here to join the prompt!

A wager with fate

one day she will get through these dystopian days
look at the mirror and see blue irises growing
from her painted bruise
she will take fortune out of misery—
make a wager with fate;
there’ll be no more sad mornings
or skeptical days

peace will propel this crepuscular creature
who no longer breathes
between alternate universes
and thousand ironies
this will be her renovation—
rebirth to the nth degree.

Image from Unsplash

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Written for MLMM’s Wordle #304. Picked 10 out of 12 words and came up with this little Monday motivation.

Click here to join the prompt!

Blog Update: Back, maybe?

Or more like trying to be.

Hello, you!

If somehow this blog post passed the algorithm and made it to your reader, I hope you are having a good day.

Truth is I don’t know where to start. A simple post won’t suffice to explain my long AWOL here. I tried to keep this site alive by sharing snippets of my life outdoors. It became the short wick keeping my candle aflame. But those who know me well knows that the soul of Doodles&Scribbles is poetry. And my muse is still in deep slumber.

Anyway, I am continuously learning the art of slowing down. Of not putting too much pressure on myself. It’s still a tedious daily task though, but we’ll get there one day.

The last time I wrote and completed a piece was March when I published Driftwood wishes and indigo dreams. It was a very personal entry triggered by anxiety and guilt, which I still carry to this day. Most days I am fine but, occasionally, emotions become too overwhelming. So I made myself scarce. We all have our inner battles and not everyone has the emotional bandwidth to help others with their burden. Hence, my silence.

Now back to this update. I’m taking the first steps to writing again — re-reading my old posts, reworking my old drafts. Hope to connect with you all again!

Driftwood wishes and indigo dreams

Someplace else, I find myself mid-air. Suspended like a bewildered ghost; a half-read poem filled with hope. Here, there is no time or space. There are no relics of your presence leaving me disconcerted – breathless.

I am a a riot of color; a burst of light. I stomp my feet on pretentious laurels. I cut ties with sharpened tongue. Here, in the midst of the night, I am not a misplaced fragment. I am sought, not seeking.

But daybreak is such a jealous lover. It comes with ticking knives – stripping each layer of my disillusionment. I am back to my boring flaws. I plead for another second of peace; press my cheeks on the pillow. By no means. Reality struck me with all its hate.

And the stars weep.

I find myself on tiptoes. A danseuse on high relevé; the second half of a poem filled with woes. Here, there are no more tulips beneath my feet, and feelings don’t wilt as quickly as flowers do.

How do I marry dreams and reality? Can the laws of nature bend for a sappy miss who got courage as her only feat?

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Today, I found myself scrolling through someone’s IG account. She’s been one of my closest girlfriends and it’s a wonder how our different personalities kept us binded for many years. As I look at her pictures and read its captions, I am reminded of how bad of a friend I have become. I hid behind lame excuses (time zones and distance) but truth is I got too caught up in the troubles of the world that I fail to see the troubles of those most important to me. I feel sad that the strong person that I know she is, is fighting the emotional and mental battle on her own. And I feel worse that I don’t have the best words to make things better. This one is inspired my some of her captions.

A reminder after each fall

time may be a heinous thief
this blood-washed land is filled with greed
if mornings are without the song of birds
and men and pigs march in herd

begin again—

like the sun behind a thin cloud
reappearing, warming them
or the blue sea breathing in and out
along the pebbled verge

begin again—

like the green-cloaked trees after Odette
drenched in fresh, comforting warmth
or the butterflies and their dusted wings
dancing to the yellow sun

so long as there are seven of the same moon
and love roars and purrs with the same passion
until happiness leaks out of your very soul
begin again after each fall

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Today, I woke up to a notification from WordPress celebrating my seventh anniversary of blogging. I would not call the last three years “good blogging” as I have been in and out of WP most of the time. But I will forever be grateful for this very day when a naïve girl decided to pour her heart out through words for the first time.

May she find her way back to poetry one day…

slowly yet surely.

six one eight

i have watched too many sunsets in silence
silhouettes intensify against a blue-and-ocher sky
to this day, i still look for you in its changing color
my palms still grasp for the galaxy of dust suspended in the air

i call for the gods whose names taste strange in my mouth
my throat still refuses to abandon all yearning
would the heavens know of ways to letting you go?
tell me, how long do heartbreaks last?

out there, a child laughs,
a dog barks, and every lamp post in the streets is lit
august slips away in slow motion, and here i am
trying to write a good story before the dusk collects past’s due

what would the universe take this time?
for i only have this poem to offer or my life.

Psalm 143:6

I dream in fast forward
Of that which never was
My pale, moon-drenched skin
Shiver ‘neath the grieving stars

I wait in quiet desperation
Feeling nothing of the real world
Seeing only that which
I have not yet held

Between midnight breaths — a poem
Reviving my half dead hope
I spread out my hands to you;
I thirst for you like a parched land.

Wrap-Up | April 2021

May the 4th be with you!

…and also be with me because I badly need it in these lazy days. April went as swift as it arrived and here I am with a late monthly wrap-up.

So without further ado, here goes..

Things I’ve written…

April has been a busy month for me outside blogging. I have not written much this month, despite the world celebrating National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo).

• Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood by William Wordsworth
• this time, i found my breath.

Books I’ve read…

Started The Red Tent by Anita Diamant during the Holy Week and it was satisfying read up to the end. Wrote a review — Book Review: The Red Tent by Anita Diamant

As for my book haul, I received two copies of Atwood on World Book and Copyright Day from The Book Snoop. Those who know me well know that I’m impulsive when it comes to books. When I see it, I get it — so long as I find it a worthy deal. However, these two were the first ones that I waited longest. I completed the 30-day rule, a challenge I personally set (just because), before I decided to finally take them. Waiting was a roller-coaster of emotions. I was anxious. I was impatient. But in the end, all the wait was worth it!

• The Blind Assassin (Php 249)
• Alias Grace (Php 399)

Alias Grace, the miniseries, is also available on Netflix for those who prefer to watch the movie first before reading.

Places I’ve been…

Went on two day hikes this earlier in April. One in Liloan’s Lataban Hills, and the other along the Naga-Minglanilla loop.

Typhoon Surigae, known in the Philippines as Typhoon Bising, however, completely turned out plans around later on. We ought to visit Camotes Island but since sea voyages were suspended, we had to make a last-minute Plan B. We decided to go to San Remegio and spend the weekend at Maayo Resort, a Caribbean-inspired resort in this northwestern part of Cebu. It may not be the weekend we expected but it was definitely fun! 😁

Here are some videos from our trips.

Day Hike at Naga-Minglanilla Loop

Camotes Island Adventure Gone Wrong

The Witch on the Foothills

I wake up to one of those lazy mornings. The leaves have changed and a thick fall foliage probably awaits me outside. People fear me. Footsteps quicken whenever they pass by my house in this part of the jungle.

Yet, a child’s innocence is magical. Most often, they are valiant warriors throwing pebbles at my window, playfully screaming, “THE WITCH ON THE FOOTHILL IS REAL! RUUUUUN!”

Once, two kids braved knocking on my doorstep. A big brother and a little sister. The spunky little girl came up in her yellow dress, demanding, “Are you a witch?”

“Am I?” I asked.

She looked at me with ambigous eyes, calculating and curious. “Our teacher told us the story of the witch on the foothills. She lives with spiders and bats and pumpkins with glowing eyes,” the girl said, comfortably taking a chair, uninvited. “But you live with cats, butterflies and plants that wear crowns.”

“They’re cactus,” I told her.

“Just as I thought,” she dismissed. “You should come out sometimes and see the ocean. Except when there’s a hurricane. Hurricanes are the worst. Jake and I can’t play when there’s one. And it howls like a monster at night.”

I smiled, amused with this small creature that talks endlessly in front of me. Her brother left a while ago to call their parents.

What hasty little children…

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This one is my entry for our company’s mini writing challenge. We were asked to pick cards with corresponding words and use these as elements to create a story.

4 CHARACTERS: Parents, Teacher, Children (2)
2 ANIMALS: Cat, Butterfly
3 PLANTS: Cactus (3)
2 LOCATIONS: Jungle, Ocean
2 TIME: Morning, Night
1 SEASON: Fall
3 EVENTS: Hurricane (3)
1 ENDING: Ambigous

It was unclear if they wanted to use the last word literally or end the story as such, so I choose to do both.

Hah! It’s been a while since I have written a short story huh.