For tonight i am with you

maybe the night isn’t over just yet

we can still disappear behind the shadows
of mystery, at least for tonight

we can still chase each other across
the empty streets of Muñoz city,
at least for tonight.

we can gorge on chocolates, and
gargle wine and Gatorade
in the nearby (and only)
24-hour convenient store,
at least for tonight.

perhaps we can still roam the fields
and lie down some place and
watch as the stars of the night sky
turn away from us and into
the other side of the earth

and then we can watch as the sun
slowly reappears over the horizon,
all the while laughing and giggling
on random stuff we hope we knew about,
at least for tonight

—but the night is abruptly coming to an end,
and soon, our intertwined hands will have
to learn how to untangle themselves
whent the moment of farewell comes.

soon…

—a shooting star flies out of nowhere;
and i wished for the universe to conspire
and maybe just for once, i could hatch
on to this magical moment and stop it
from slipping from my grasp

but the universe isn’t listening; he
remains asleep as the last minutes of
darkness continue to roam the streets
of the deserted Muñoz city.

—and so the time will come when we finally
have to bid the night and each other goodbyes,
but hopefully with smiles painted on both our faces,

for I know one thing: some other time
we will meet again,
our lives once again intersect—

but where? who knows?
maybe in another party like tonight,
in another city
in another country
in another universe
—in another life…

but i am happy, at least for tonight,
for tonight
i am with you.

Art by Hajin Bae
Words by Spencer Martin Keats

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Dancing in the Quiet Melancholy of the Night

he danced among fireflies
in a meadow far away,
gentle as the night,
graceful as moonlight.

he danced, an aerial promenade,
his body echoing radiance,
from lantern’s coming from
some bug’s holiest bumps.

he danced, his heart fluttering,
amidst the melody
of melancholy playing
from within his own being.

and he danced endlessly,
his body flowing like a river,
swirling with embers
from the music of the night.

Art by William Baxter Closson
Words by Spencer Martin Keats

It Rained Saturday Morning

the sun which labored in the east
as it peeks over mountains too tall to climb,
falls on your body, naked & fragile,
warms your chilly, cold heart—
trying to put it back to life—
the way I kiss your cheek and
caress it to give & show you a love
you’ve always ached for, but never felt.

it is this sun—whose rays
sprinkle a golden hue on your
sleeping, completely nonchalant face—
this sun, which witnessed a farewell
too heavy to be spoken, too long to be written,
but never too cold to be brought upon
the sleeping figure of a fragile boy,
so innocent-looking that further looking
into his life could shake a softened heart.

it was this leaving that left
what seemed like a small void
in his life—a wound too deep,
a note wrongly played on the piano;
this leaving, which looked insignificant,
left tremors on his once steady body,
tremors brought upon by tears that threaten to
always fall down his cheeks I once had kissed.

in the distance, the promise of a bright day vanished,
as the sky made way for the gloom of clouds too heavy to be carried,
clouds so dark it completely eclipsed the sun;
and for a moment the boy could not carry them anymore.
they fell, like raindrops on the roof of his home,
his emotions bellowing like a thunderstorm in his head—

then everything fell apart, as the body of a fragile
boy ached for the warmth of a touch,
either from the rays of the morning sun,
or from the simple touch of a lover asleep on his bed,
but the light has been gone for some time now,
(and so are the lovers who used to sleep beside him)
that light from the sun who used to labor in the east,
for it had grown too scared of the mountains it could not climb.

Art by Unknown (from livreclem.tumblr.com)
Words by Spencer Martin Keats

Welcome post

Voila! And howdy, strange reader from the Internet.

Definitely I am fairly new to this site, and I have so many words to say I don’t have any idea how to arrange them into comprehensive sentences–so for that I must already give my apologies.

Anyways, first off, my name is Lenard T. Basinga. That was given to me by my parents way before or on the 25th of April, year 1998. My name, based on the research I had conducted a few weeks ago, means “brave lion” and is actually a variant of the more popular name “Leonardo.” (That actually is my father’s name.)

I was born in this tiny archipelago from Asia’s Southeast, it’s called the Philippines and has been dubbed by many as the Pearl of the Orient seas. Basically, I am now doubtful with regards to the territorial limits of my country, due to various disputes with China and other neighboring nations. Hopefully though, we could settle that without guns and cannons.

What will this blog contain? Well, to be frank, I still have no idea. A friend (her blog is whatliezelreads.wordpress.com) pushed me to push myself (there’s been a lot of pushing in my side) into creating this WordPress blog. I will try to limit my posts. I shall divide this blog into certain areas:

• the Book Reviews page
• the Music Reviews page
• the Daily Journal page
• the Personal Literary page
• Tips on Studying page

Oh well, I hope that’s not too many! Ha. Summing it all up, this blog will all about be art and art and art, and wordy posts about studying and other related things. I also hope to write interesting essays about certain articles very soon; but mostly I wish to consume my time in productive ways, such as blogging and studying (whoo).

That is all I have to say, for now. Hopefully, you aren’t terribly bored by this lengthy, wordy, and not to mention, very awkward first post. Yes to blogging! See you soon!

Happy life!

 

Hugs and coughs,

Lenard.