Hours of my human experience: Short Stories

Blessing my deeds

Wed, 04 Jul 2007 23:21:00 GMT

A smile that sprinkled the air with its lightheartedness
A Feeling that floated the oceans of your heart in the midst of your wilderness
Thrills for the taking, memories for the savoring and the love I wish to be making
My heart is a flower that basks in your warmth and blossoms with your presence
If we are the masters of our destinies, then our hands are tied in eternities
For in your eyes, a lifetime exists of endless possibilities
My friend fate, drizzles me with your laughter whenever I am alone
Is it you that I am supposed to thank, or for my mentor the wonderful Mrs. Patience?
Every day spent waiting is rewarded by your yearning for penance
My life is defined by the ecstasy of your name as long as I am still sane
For when my mind goes, there might not be any regrets left to transpose
I am the farmer sowing the seeds, and your are the rain blessing my deeds

Winds that decieved faith

Wed, 25 Jan 2006 08:59:00 GMT

The captain had finally made a decision to set sail as a light breeze finally picked up. For weeks the "Midnight Whisper" was stuck without a single breeze to take her back home. Years of experience had taught the captain that not all breezes turned into the winds for the return home. In his heart he was not convinced that this trip would take him straight home. Yet the restlesness of the crew and his desire to return back to the man he was, kept edging him on.

As the ship made her way out of Ohana bay, moods were high and laughter filled the air. Not wanting to alarm his officers, the captain maintained his composure, yet his heart was by now screaming at him to wait yet another week or two for a more solid wind to pick up. He knew very well the dangers of being lost at sea, when the sight of no land would torment the bravest of men's hearts. It's almost like losing the one you love without a single explanation, only this time there was no sight of land, no familiar smells of home. The journey now was in its final hour, for he needed to shine as a beacon of hope for the souls that the "Midnight Whisper" carried into the night.

-excerpt from "Ocean's Apart"

Momentary Perceptions

Wed, 21 Dec 2005 06:50:00 GMT

From the begining it must have been a panaroma she must have recognized.

He must have walked right past the garden she tended and organized.

That afternoon, the air was sticky and warm, as any late summer day would be.

The confusion of thoughts colliding must have discovered a nest of understanding. As he made his way back past her, he humbled himself and asked her for directions.

Directions she could give, but why she wondered ? Maybe, a conversation would lighten the air and cool the breeze now starting to trickle in.

It's funny how when an innocent plea for direction is misconstrued as an attraction for discovery.

But then again, who really was manipulating who in this instant ? Could he stand the knots in his stomach for the satisfaction he generated in her naive curiosity ? Or was she the one laughing on the inside ?

Maybe they were made for each other, but both of them knew time was not on their side for such perceptions are momentary at best.

And insincere at their worst.

Respect was their virtue, yet deceit was their craft. Like the moon that rises at the begining of every month, they knew that neither side would capitulate for the sake of charity.

He wanted to test the depths of her honesty, while she was craftily attempting to discover how much he knew and whom he had talked to.

This was a delicate game of cat and mouse where neither side would really provide anything of substance. To the rest of us, you could imagine them as a happy couple with something special between them.

The truth of the matter was, this was about who would prevail. While they both struggled to shed their instincts and move to a kinder state, it was momentary perceptions they were both trapped in.

The Heat of Winter

Mon, 19 Dec 2005 23:52:00 GMT

We had barely sat down to have dinner at Etouffe, when our eyes met from across the room. For a very brief second it appeared as if we had exchanged a life's worth of experiences in one glance.

Slowly she made her way across to my table. For the sake of Superficial conversation, she had made the excuse that she liked my hat. But then again the eyes don't lie when sincerety is on the line, and I would bet my career her eyes where not in a lying state of mind tonight. We exchanged a few small words before she turned around and went back to what she was doing.

My freind arrived shortly and we proceeded to catch up on eachother's lives and career. While I enjoyed my seeing my freind, the back of my mind was like a nation in war preparations, everybody was busy and rushing to do their part. Yes, my mind was working overtime. I was simply trying to comprehend what makes a beautiful woman like her lie to a whole nation, yet she would dare let me see a vulnerable and sincere side of her, all in one glance.

The rest of the evening was a game of cat and mouse glances while the rivers flooded their banks with wild emotions of what could be. Would I break the trance, and start something ? Or would I finish my dinner and leave her as a guest of my memories. That must have been the awakening for me, when I realized the moment of truth for me was if I wanted to explore the depth and truths of my perceptions.

Maybe it would be a beautiful relationship, I could tender as I care for my Gardenia plant. Or maybe she was the Rose I smelt at the market, but would not take home with me.

For me, my answer was neither. You see a women like her makes you feel alive, that you can hear sub-conscious communications and that your basic instinct is alive and roaring when called upon.

After dinner, I walked my freind to her car and promised her, we'd meet up and catch up on our lives after the holidays. As I walked back home, I lit a cigarette in the cold night air, took a deep drag and wondered what to make of the evenings' events. By the time I was finished with my cigarette, I laughed and smiled up at the moon. The Heat of Winter is a beautiful thing if you know what I mean...