Through its highs and nadirs,
and the laughter and tears,
’twas the grandest of years.
Cheers!, my dearest of dears.
December 31, 2011
Last Year’s Toast
December 15, 2010
Fortieth
Lo and behold, truth be told,
today, I am 40 years-old.
More streaks line my face;
and my strut has lost some grace.
But though my joints may creak,
the heart’s resilient–never weak.
While youth’s gone, as Frost foretold,
today, I don’t feel so old.
December 21, 2009
Lying in Wait
What if you love the idea of settling down, but are just unwilling to settle?
When you pine for a bed of roses, but want it only if it had the right kind of petals.What if your excruciating wait for Mr. or Ms. Right leaves you with no one left?
And that happy ending you’ve been yearning, turns out to be regretfully bereft.
photo by Desirée Delgado
November 13, 2008
I want a soulmate, not just a sole mate
As I find myself in Hillsboro, Oregon, amidst a heavy downpour, the last few weeks have been a drought in terms of subjects to write (or is it whine?) about. I’ve either been too tired, lazy, uninspired, busy … yada, yada, yada. To keep the readers — er, all 2 of them — of this blog from completely forgetting about it, I am reposting an entry I made on my old blog (the one that had just 1 follower). It was first posted on June 7, 2007.
It’s a bit forlorn, now aged with a tad of scorn, but each line of prose, holds true since first composed …
I want a soulmate, not just a sole mate
The sight of whom would make my heart palpitate;
Leave me breathless, my mouth agape,
Like a spellbound fish to an enchanting bait.
I want a soulmate, not just a sole mate
That special someone to be my lifelong date;
Dinners by candlelight till we’re ninety-eight
Bingo every Friday in our retirement estate.
I want a soulmate, not just a sole mate
I’ve spent far too long now, lying in wait.
I ought to stop trusting it all to fate;
Don’t want to wait till I’m in a funeral crate.
So soulmate, dear soulmate, don’t show up too late,
I eagerly await you telling it to me straight;
IM me, email me … just be sure to clearly state,
“I’m your soulmate, not just your sole mate!”
September 11, 2008
Let yourself fall
While playing basketball a few months back, I fell hard and tore the ACL and the meniscus on my right knee. Today, I finally had arthroscopic surgery to repair it. Thankfully, it went well without any incident and I don’t feel any pain (yet), which is a very good thing.
Lying in bed and letting my knee heal isn’t terribly exciting, though, so I’ve decided to write about another ailment that plagues the same joint. I am talking about being weak at the knees … in the figurative sense. The surgery today made me remember the poem* below, which I snarkily wrote a couple of years ago to herald in Valentine’s Day; it cites the said symptom and other related ones. As you will see, I’m quite a romantic … not!
just call this if you will — a diagnosis;
weak in the knees? hmm, osteoporosis;
the heart skips a beat? surely arrhythmia;
blinded by love? definitely glaucoma.
so don’t trust no horoscope
the truth’s in the stethoscope
despite a few niceties,
love … it is but a disease.
It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt weak at the knees. (Way too long if you ask my mom.) Pondering about it now, I realize I miss the feeling of being utterly smitten by another person. Dare I say, I think I’m ready to be in a relationship again — despite the sarcasm in my verses above.
The monumental problem is, of course, I have not found anyone, nor has someone come along, to bring me out of my anesthetized state. Sure, there have been one or two who have made my heart stutter. But that’s about it, just small blips in the EKG. What I need is to find someone who can defibrillate my heart out of its current, comatose condition.
With that said, once I fully recover from my bum knee, I hope to be on a tear of a different kind. I shall embark on a mission of romance. I will bring some spring back to my step in the search for a woman who has the antidote to my sedentary heart. I shall ditch the crutches and hopefully move into the clutches of a female’s warm embrace.
Just thinking about it makes me feel better already. And so I ask … who wants to play doctor, ladies?
* The poem was first posted on my old Yahoo! 360 blog on Valentine’s Day, 2006.
