Psychosomatic

I. Addict

Inhale.
You're the victim
of your own sorrow.
Emotions are nothing but
electrical impulses interpreted
in the mind.

What you feel is
what you are
is what you do.

He who chooses
to wallow in his misery
is addicted to it.


II. Insane

Exhale.
You're the perpetrator
of your own destiny.
Emotions are mere thoughts
manifested externally
through action.

Actions speak louder
than words speak
louder than thoughts.

He who wants to clear
all internal turmoil should
breathe it all out.


*inspired by the song "Breathe" by The Prodigy

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

My Son Smokes

My son smokes.

Now that is probably the biggest insult to a man in uniform:
to have a pothead for a son.
Especially your first-born.

So I beat him
to make him see the folly of his ways.
I sent him to the best schools, and this is how he repays me.
So I enforced on him a new and improved
Drug-Free lifestyle.

However, when I woke up one morning,
the painting hanging from my bedroom was gone;
the first thing I saw in the morning for the past ten years,
a painting of my favorite band
painted by my son for my fortieth birthday.

And when I asked him,
"Where is the Sgt. Pepper painting?"
He just shrugged his shoulders and answered,
"You said Drug-Free."

Now that made me realize
my son is a true artist,
and what he does makes him no different
from my alcoholic sister or my philandering brother.

My son still smokes marijuana.
Just never in front of me.


*circa February 2004

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

Vienti Nueve

Ako'y balisong.
Makintab at matalim,
maaaring makapagpasirit ng dugo
kapag itinusok sa iyong leeg.

Ako'y balisong
na walang silbi kundi
kumitil ng buhay.

Ako'y balisong,
maganda ang hawakang
inukit sa kahoy.

Ang paggawa ng aking hawakan
ay mas komplikado pa kaysa sa
paggawa ng aking talim.

'Pag ako'y nakatupi
ang aking silbi
ay pan-display lang.

Ako'y balisong,
matalim, maganda,
nakamamatay.
Ngunit ang nais ko
ay manatiling nakatupi lamang.


*Birthday poem for me, 2008.

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

Justified (working title)

I can't see you, but I can hear you
on the phone
in that sugar-coated voice of yours
that I last heard you use on me
fifteen years ago.
He is fifteen years younger
by the sound of his voice,
and you call him by an endearment
you used to say only to me.
Yes, I heard it
because I was listening.

You can see me, but you can't hear me.
You can't hear the machine gun of rage
going off in my heart.
You can see me smile at you
but you can't hear me mutter under my breath
that when you say you're going to the supermarket,
you're really going somewhere else.
You don't hear it
because you're not listening.

I can't see you, but I can hear you
through the walls,
through the paper-thin walls
of my own bedroom.
The disrespect of it all,
muttering someone else's name
as someone else's semen stains the sheets
of my own bed.
Yes I heard it.
I was listening.

You can see me, but you can't hear me
cocking my sawed-off shotgun.
You can't hear the adrenaline rushing through my veins
nor can you hear the loud ringing in my ears.
That sound is the absence of reason,
the sound of the dark cloud over my obfuscated senses.
Every atom of my body is cursing you to the depths of hell
but you can't hear it.
You won't hear it
anymore.


*Written and performed 5 Apr 2008, "Bigkas Pilipinas," Jam 88.3

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

The Whore of Damascus

I remember
her eyes:
sincere, yet deceptive,
intense, but far away;
her mouth:
spins sugar over words that
roll over her serpentine tongue.

She has a face that could launch a thousand armies
and that could sink a million ships.

And her body --
perfection incarnate.
Her skin radiates an unholy light,
every inch of her a testament
to the glory of a higher power.

She was the light that struck me blind.

The veil of darkness has been lifted.
Now I am enlightened.

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

Psalm 420

I am the Shepherd
and this is My flock.
The coolest flock of sheep
in the universe.

These sheep answer to Me
and only to Me.
They do not run from
the sound of My voice
nor do they shy away from
the touch of My hand.

Their pen has been equipped
with high-definition CCTV surveillance cameras
and is surrounded by a
high-voltage perimeter barb-wire fence,
while I carry
a sniper rifle (with laser-sight
and night-vision technology) with Me
wherever I go.

And should any one of them
accidentally stray into the badlands,
a full rescue squad is sent
to retrieve them immediately.

But it has come to my attention
that one of you is a spy.
You are not really a sheep
but a wolf disguised as one.

As you all know, anyone caught
impersonating a sheep
shall be executed on the spot.

His name shall be erased from the halls of Valhalla,
his soul shall burn in the fires of Hades,
and his carcass shall be cast down from the top of Mt. Zion.

For whosoever messes with My flock
messes with Me
and I will strike you down
until you cease to exist.


*circa June 2004

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

The Queen of Heart(break)s, or What Have I Become After Twenty-Four Years

Many wonder what it's really like:
Am I as powerful as I think I am?
Reality bites with the jaws of a cobra.
I've also realized that I can bite harder.
End of discussion.

Angel, they say I am.
Nobody would say otherwise.
Generally, I am a pleasant ray of sunshine,
Enveloping everyone around me
Like a fog in a naval battle,
Intensifying the tension.

Charm is my secret weapon
And with it, I can bleed hearts dry.

Must I use my power for myself?
Endless possibilities open up
Right in front of me.

Zip my gown, curl my eyelashes,
And announce the coming of the Queen of Heart(break)s.

Twenty-four years on this planet --
Hardly even reached my prime.
Even so, I now hold two hearts in my hands.
Look what I can do to them.

Might just be my imagination, but
One heart seems to be more badly damaged.


*Birthday poem for AT 2008.

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

The Amazon Queen

The Amazon Queen
had a necklace with the teeth of an alligator
that she killed when she was still a princess.
(One tooth was missing
but no one noticed
because no one except Her knew
how many teeth an alligator had.)

And then came Man.

Man had come
with his tools for measurements
“To study nature,” he said
“for three days. And then,
I shall leave.”

The Amazon Queen
did not like the way
Man looked at Her
when he spoke.

On the first day
She took Man with Her
to hunt across the river.
Upon reaching the waters,
Man crossed the river first.
This angered the Amazon Queen
who crossed the water after him
and shouted in his face.

“Do you not know that it is considered rude
to cross the river before the Queen?”

And Man answered “I crossed first
to test the waters for piranhas.”

On the second day
She took Her spear to go hunting
and noticed the spear-head was different.
She knew at once who had done it.

“Do you not know,” She told Man
“that it is a crime to tamper with the Queen’s weapons?”

Man answered Her, “I noticed that
the spear-head was damaged, so I changed it
before You went hunting.”

On the third day
Man gave Her something small and white in Her hand.
“I noticed Your necklace
had alligator teeth. But I counted it
and found one missing.
Add this tooth to Your necklace
and now it is complete.”

The Amazon Queen
threw the tooth into the river
and angrily exclaimed:

“My necklace is perfect.
I am not missing a tooth.”

That night, Man left
never to return.

The next day
the Amazon Queen
realized too late
that She could not bring him back.

So she waded into the river
hoping to find
the tooth She had thrown away.


For Aika 8-11-05

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

My-Girl-Left-Me-for-a-Guy-with-a-Car Club

It's more like a support group, really.

Fred, for example, loved his girl so much
Only he was too dependent, too attached,
Relying too much on her emotional mood swings.
Girl soon left him for a basketball player in an SUV.

Isaac, for instance, was a weakling,
Very skinny, always picking his nose.
Eventually, his girl started riding in her boss's limo.
You all know what happens after that.

On the other hand, Paul, artist extraordinaire,
Undeniably talented, but an aggressive hothead.
Always humiliated and yelled at his girl in public.
In the end, she left him for a defensive driver.

Kenneth, meanwhile, would always use force on his girl
At times when she would walk out of an argument.
Then one last time, she stood up and walked out,
Heading straight into the open doors of someone's sports car.

Each meeting started with the four gathered 'round,
Loudly chanting the club's motto/mantra:
My girl left me. But was it really the car?
Or was it something else entirely?


*Oct 29 2008

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

A Snake in the King's Garden

A snake (poisonous)
in my garden? Absurd!
Yet here it is in front of me.
But how did it get through
the castle walls?

It slithered through the grass
past the sentries
and bit the queen.
My Queen.

And now my Queen is lying down
in a delirious fit
muttering a name that is not mine.

It wasn't too late;
the poison has been sucked out.
Yet what am I to do with the snake?

"Sire, let's stab it with my spear,"
said the sentry.

"I could even crush its head
with the heel of my boot," said I.
"But it is not the snake's fault.
All it saw was a female human.
It never saw her as a queen with a crown."

I ordered the sentry to hurl the snake
over the castle walls.

"But what about the queen, sire?" asked he.
"She does not seem to be her usual self."

"She will come back," said I. "She will come back."

Sting Lacson

A writer. By degree and by profession. Also strongly advocates ten-finger typing to all writers because that's what you do for a living, so be efficient at it.

My Literary Side

"The Words come from the Divine; from the Muse the Idea. The Poet merely transcribes." ┼Old Sumerian proverb

(Kidding, I made that up. LOL)

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