My Monster (a.k.a. Gremlin)

I have a
monster in my
pocket.

I think
my monster
is a she.

My monster
is scary, with
big scary eyes.
A lot of kids
are afraid
of her. Because
my monster
does not like kids.

My monster
is cranky, and
has been known to
bite children's fingers off,
behaving like a brat
when she does not get
what she wants.

But
my monster is mean
only to others.
Not to me.

My monster
is really nice and sweet.
She flashes
her huge,
mischievous eyes
as she rubs
against my leg.

I have a
monster in my
pocket.

And she is mine.


*Children's poem


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 Warfare of Walls (Working Title)

The problem with walls is this:

When two warring states are
separated by a wall,

you can-
not see
the enemy.

You have no idea
whether you are facing a
thousand troops
or a
single soldier.

Thus, you will have to
utilize your siege
weapons. But there is too
much math
involved. You must
calculate for
probability of placement
of troops,
plus parabolic projectile paths,
which may or may not
hit your target.

Walls leave you blind.
And so they must be broken down.

Without walls,
the battlefield becomes bigger.
And you can see with your
own eyes, whether your
archers' arrows
pierce the heart of the enemy.


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 Princess and the Thief (Working Title)

They called him an amateur,
a thief who was too
flashy, too fast.
"I'll show them
who's an amateur,"
said the thief, as
he clambered up the wall
and swung over the balcony
to the princess's bedroom.
All in less than a minute.

He picked the
lock, and landed
beside the sleeping
figure of the beautiful
princess.
All in less than a minute.

The other thieves
said that he couldn't
steal the princess's tiara.
But the thief was
arrogant, and
decided he could steal the
tiara, and a kiss
from the sleeping princess
at the same time.

So he moved closer,
looking into the
princess's beautiful
face, and as he
moved his lips
to kiss hers,

she woke up.
All in less than a minute.

And the next morning,
everyone in the castle was
bustling with excitement,
to watch the execution
of the amateur thief who
got caught stealing
a kiss from
the sleeping princess.


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.

They've Killed a Cat

Or more specifically,
he did, since
he was behind the wheel.
"You've killed a cat!"
she shouted,
and he quickly looked behind
in the rear view mirror,
but there was no sign of any
dead feline,
no body on the asphalt.
He couldn't have
killed a cat,
because she loved cats, and
to kill a cat
would be like
killing her too.

But he did see a
cat cross,
and he did slam on the brakes,
yet he felt something
under the wheel, and
he did hear
a thud, and a
sort of squishy sound.

They both saw it;
they both heard it; and
they both felt it.

They (might have)
killed a cat.
But the cat seems
to have vanished
without a trace.


*inspired by real events, and the poem "They've Killed a Dog" by Michael Balili


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.

Foul-Mouthed Fred

Foul-Mouthed Fred is a bad little lad;
he’s the kid most parents hate.
He curses a lot whenever he talks,
and to think that the boy’s only eight!

Foul-Mouthed Fred is avoided by kids,
which is why his friends are so few.
“Don’t play with that boy,” their parents all say.
“He might teach you a curse word or two.”

Foul-Mouthed Fred doesn’t mean to offend;
he was just brought up that way,
growing up in a jungle of childish adults
who never control what they say.

Foul-Mouthed Fred isn’t really that bad,
except for his vile, verbal ways.
He may curse like a convict and talk like a thug,
but his heart is in the right place.

Foul-Mouthed Fred and I are good friends,
and I’ve been trying to help make him see
that speaking bad words is really uncool.
But why won’t he listen to me?


*circa December 2006-January 2007


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 Lover's Dilemma

Do I
kiss you
now,
and later regret it
for the rest of my life,

or

do I
not kiss you
at all,
and later regret it
for the rest of my life?


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.

Can You See the Crocodiles

Can you see the crocodiles?
One…Two…Three
Three thrill-seeking crocodiles
surfing in the sea.

Can you see the ostriches?
Four…Five…Six
Six skateboarding ostriches
practicing their tricks.

Can you see the polar bears?
Seven…Eight…Nine
Nine nauseous polar bears
hanging from a vine.

Can you see the jellyfish?
Ten…Eleven…Twelve
Twelve twinkling jellyfish
crawling up the shelf.


*circa November or December 2006


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.

Overseas

I took
(care of)
a child
(not my own),
while back home,
my sister took
(care of)
mine.

I did this
for ten years.

Now, my
child calls my
sister: mother,
and calls
me: auntie.


*Inspired by the documentary Kunyang, directed by Vivian N. Limpin and Kat Loreños


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 Soul-Bind Spell

The spell to bind yourself to your soul-mate.


Most powerful when cast on a Full Moon.


Spell type:
Recp
Pref: Out-PM; FM

Equipment:
Headgear
Magic Wand
Potion 120ml (Li)
Water (Wa)
Firestarter (Fi)
THC (Ea)
Peace pipe (Wi)
Photograph of the subject


Don the headgear, and walk onto an open field as the Full Moon rises. The headgear must not be removed during the duration of the spell.

Drink the potion. You will have 20 minutes before the effects are felt. Take the photograph, then place it on the ground in front of you. Use the tip of your magic wand and draw a circle on the ground around the photograph. Stare at the photograph and mutter the incantation nine times:

Mergis eternam te anima meæ

With the firestarter, set fire to the photograph, and use its flame to light the peace pipe. Inhale deeply, and as you blow the smoke out, speak the name of the subject, your soul-mate. Then wash your mouth with water, and the spell is completed.


* * *


“Are you coming to dinner or not?” asked the woman as she opened the door to the basement. “Your soup is getting cold.”

“Yes, I’ll join you in a minute,” he answered, still reading the page of the book he was holding.

“You’re not going through any of those old sorcery books of yours again, are you?” The woman stole a quick glance at the book. “You’d best hurry or the kids will finish off the dessert I made.” Then she climbed out of the door, wiping her hands on her apron.

The man stared after her as she left, then smiled to himself. “I have married the right woman,” he thought, and he closed the dusty book and followed her to dinner.


*circa 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.

Elegy for Cory Aquino

They tied
a yellow ribbon
'round the tree.

They said yellow
is a magical color.

It can stop tanks
and freeze bullets;
it can lead people to the streets,
topple tyrants,
create constitutions;
it can put
martyrs on money,
and turn soldiers
against their commander-in-chief.
It can change
peoples' perception
regarding a woman's ability
to lead a nation.

The color yellow can also
unite a multitude
in one voice.

And now the yellow ribbon
has detached itself
from the tree,

and is now flying
in the wind.


*Requiescat in Pace, Corazon Cojuangco Aquino
Saturday, 1 August 2009.



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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