Tuesday, March 21, 2006
i used to write
I used to write.
Somewhere it's --
It's just lost.
This used to flow
more freely.
That the pen
couldn't keep up.
It was like
I had no pen.
That I just had words.
Beautiful words.
This is not --
I used to write.
dezphaire strapped in @ 10:06 PM  


  • At 12:16 AM, Anonymous K said…

    "Don't worry, I know how it feels. I'm still hoping that being with you isn't just a dream."

    Amazing Dez. You are a genius writer. Why don't you start writing again?

    "...where one can be wallowing in the black space of sadness and still find that grain of joy that makes you ready… to die or to live. There's where you forget that life is just a matter of waking".


  • At 8:35 AM, Blogger qroon said…

    I envy those people like you who can write such wonderful lines. Ako, writer/artist wannabe, hanggang paghanga na lang :D

  • At 8:44 AM, Blogger dezphaire said…

    K: i miss my writer self. she's out there somewhere.

    qroon: i envy the wonderful lines i wrote. i came across some old poems yesterday while cleaning my dest. i'm like, DANG shet! ako yan!??


  • At 10:36 AM, Blogger dreaming-neko said…

    cheer up, dez! * hugs *
    this post reminded me of a poem:

    Forgotten Language
    Shel Silverstein

    Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
    Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
    Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
    And shared a conversation with the housefly in my bed.
    Once I heard and answered all the questions of crickets'
    And joined the crying of each falling dying flake of snow,
    Once I spoke the language of the flowers,

    How did it go?
    How did it go?

  • At 11:00 AM, Blogger Homer said…

    keep writing. even shakespeare had his own bad writing days... what more us commoners

  • At 11:00 AM, Blogger Abaniko said…

    Awesome writing you've got there. Wow! Maybe, it's an interlude for you. When the muse comes back, you'll be writing with more intensity. Just you wait. :)

  • At 2:20 PM, Blogger Rey said…

    We sometimes feel within ourselves that the fountain of creativity stopped within. As if the precious liquid of infinite prose and lyrics stopped flowing, blocking the transition from the brain towards the hand.

    But it just needs one inspiration to keep it going. A good iol to keep the creative machine going.

  • At 11:07 AM, Blogger dezphaire said…

    neko: hehe i actually don't know... i think i'd reflect more on Neruda's "Tonight I can write the saddest lines"

    homer: Shakespeare in Love perhaps?

    Abaniko: thanks. i'll be waiting for the muse :)

    Rey Villegas: precisely! there's a big block, i must say.


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Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.

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