An Aquariumed Affair
Watching you like a fish
in a glass bowl, I'm startled
to see you staring back
at me. (You see fishes
don't usually see pass
their contained ocean.)
I'm amused with our language of stares
of silence, of secrecy, of subtlety.
I'm torn knowing if i reach my hand
through your glass walls
it will shatter, water will spill.
You'll be a fish without a world.
I'll be drench with smelly water.
I love and hate the glass windows of romance.
I haven't written a poem in an year and 3 months. I was a member of Thomasian writer's guild, I used to be good then all the shitty things in life happened and I lost everything even my writing. Then ofcourse, here I am writing a poem for a guy I barely know. Writing my first poem for over a year, picking up a pen, scrounging for paper. I love the feeling of putting that last period. I wrote that poem at 2 'o clock in the morning, just like old times. Just like old times. I wrote it in one sitting, even the title. Titles are my weakest point. But this time, I like my title. The thing is this poem is better than the last two I wrote. they were for a guy, he was a jerk and the poems are worse than he was. I have to squeeze those poems out of me because I owe an editor some materials for the annual folio, plus I sort of want to feel "right" to end things with the jerky guy and sort of meant those poems to be.. I don't know I wasn't thinking right at that time. and I'm glad that time was over. Anyway, love poems are not really my thing. I usually write about what I see and not really good in writing what I feel. I like this poem, it isn't cheesy and I've read it over and over again and I haven't cringe a bit. Well I don't care, I like it. And I like using words like "affair" and "romance", it sounds very adult! I just felt really good to write again. I felt happy. Not fun, not kilig just happy.
I had a chance to speak with Mr. Dollar Boy again and I didn't booched it this time. I think I came across as a bitch but I don't think he noticed. I think he was suprised I was talking to him, at least he looked surprised. Actually, he looked more surprised after we talked than at the start. he must be wondering why I talked to him. The thing is, I asked him for a favor. It was some favor because he actually broke the law. There's this bank secrecy law, where they are not suppose to give out information about a bank account to other than the person who owns the account. I heard it being mentioned a lot on congressional hearings about politian's bank accounts. I asked him information about my lola's account, because my lola is asking me to. I have a made up authorization letter courtesy of photoshop but I didn't show it to him because I have decided I am enough to get the info I need from him. I felt guilty about "using" him but I want find out if I can make him do things the other tellers won't do for me. And believe me, the other tellers won't do that for me, I've tried. Another thing, he isn't even in-charge of the checking accounts. He is in-charge of the foreign deposits and special accounts, so I guess I now fall into the special accounts. :P
Watching you like a fish
in a glass bowl, I'm startled
to see you staring back
at me. (You see fishes
don't usually see pass
their contained ocean.)
I'm amused with our language of stares
of silence, of secrecy, of subtlety.
I'm torn knowing if i reach my hand
through your glass walls
it will shatter, water will spill.
You'll be a fish without a world.
I'll be drench with smelly water.
I love and hate the glass windows of romance.
I haven't written a poem in an year and 3 months. I was a member of Thomasian writer's guild, I used to be good then all the shitty things in life happened and I lost everything even my writing. Then ofcourse, here I am writing a poem for a guy I barely know. Writing my first poem for over a year, picking up a pen, scrounging for paper. I love the feeling of putting that last period. I wrote that poem at 2 'o clock in the morning, just like old times. Just like old times. I wrote it in one sitting, even the title. Titles are my weakest point. But this time, I like my title. The thing is this poem is better than the last two I wrote. they were for a guy, he was a jerk and the poems are worse than he was. I have to squeeze those poems out of me because I owe an editor some materials for the annual folio, plus I sort of want to feel "right" to end things with the jerky guy and sort of meant those poems to be.. I don't know I wasn't thinking right at that time. and I'm glad that time was over. Anyway, love poems are not really my thing. I usually write about what I see and not really good in writing what I feel. I like this poem, it isn't cheesy and I've read it over and over again and I haven't cringe a bit. Well I don't care, I like it. And I like using words like "affair" and "romance", it sounds very adult! I just felt really good to write again. I felt happy. Not fun, not kilig just happy.
I had a chance to speak with Mr. Dollar Boy again and I didn't booched it this time. I think I came across as a bitch but I don't think he noticed. I think he was suprised I was talking to him, at least he looked surprised. Actually, he looked more surprised after we talked than at the start. he must be wondering why I talked to him. The thing is, I asked him for a favor. It was some favor because he actually broke the law. There's this bank secrecy law, where they are not suppose to give out information about a bank account to other than the person who owns the account. I heard it being mentioned a lot on congressional hearings about politian's bank accounts. I asked him information about my lola's account, because my lola is asking me to. I have a made up authorization letter courtesy of photoshop but I didn't show it to him because I have decided I am enough to get the info I need from him. I felt guilty about "using" him but I want find out if I can make him do things the other tellers won't do for me. And believe me, the other tellers won't do that for me, I've tried. Another thing, he isn't even in-charge of the checking accounts. He is in-charge of the foreign deposits and special accounts, so I guess I now fall into the special accounts. :P
I forgot to flirt though, again. Even when I said thank you, I was only semi-smiling but I'm pretty sure when I asked for help, I was smiling that time. I think he said something that was flirty but i"m not really sure if I heard him so I just replied a very,very profound "what?". Argh! there was a thousand voices screaming in my head and his voice was really soft at that time. Wait, I think he said something not flirty in a really flirty way, I think thats it. Well, I think the fact that I can now actually speak when I'm speaking to him is a big improvement form the last time.
I now know why I'm this crazy about him. At the moment when I fell in like with him, he looked at me intensely with really kind and gentle eyes. They were just really, really kind. You know, like the way Mama Mary statues look at you. It's not like nobody looked at me that way before, I didn't notice things like that, it's just that; that was the kind of look I needed at that time. I think I was so shy with him because I thought he saw right through with that look but now I don't think he did. He couldn't have. He just have really beautiful, kind and gentle eyes. hehehee
