Date: | 2004-09-15 15:16 |
Subject: | Farewell! |
Security: | Public |
Thank you for reading me. chronicles ends this blog in a silent whimper.
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Date: | 2004-09-08 14:48 |
Subject: | Blog Housewarming |
Security: | Public |
This is an open invitation!
Friends, I have a new blog called andronymous :: seen all, nothing is final. Go, visit!
::say something::
Date: | 2004-09-07 16:45 |
Subject: | Graphic Poetry (revisited) |
Security: | Public |

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Date: | 2004-09-06 11:33 |
Subject: | Quote |
Security: | Public |
Missing is an understatement. Rather, ask yourself now: WHY are you missing in my life these days?
::say something::
Date: | 2004-09-01 10:59 |
Subject: | What is poetry? |
Security: | Public |
Poetry is all glittering stars called Paradox and the soul of the poet attempts to discover that paradox' name, plunges himself into the void called Experience. There he musters the fullness of Life with his brilliant verve for us to feel and live with it.
To poets universal: Here's to your indomitable spirit, utter conviction and poignancy! May we never cease to find answers in our quills.
::say something::
Date: | 2004-08-31 17:32 |
Subject: | Holy Suckrament! |
Security: | Public |
This image is real. No, don't raise your eyebrows on my Photoshop expertise! grimweaver, my fellow dvd swapper, forwarded this stuff to my Gmail account just this afternoon. Incidentally, his cousin who sent him this, was indeed, keen at it and snapped at the infamous "religious artwork" using his phone-cam.
This is a wickedly amusing and somewhat disturbing (profane?) stained glass window. (Disclaimer: NO OFFENSE MEANT.)
 Too much for the hapless boy he can handle just to get the blessings from above. -- Caption contributed from a colleague.
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Date: | 2004-08-30 20:31 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
Repose © by Clee Andro
Speak! Speak! Speak! Will we ever understand? How death carves our seek In our bones undone?
To frankincense wish: A friend’s almost dreams Forlorn dusts of mysterious air Certain livid grasses Mixing mercurial pain Pour into our sore Things unspeakable: Mother burying her first born son A son's first year...
Only the swept of tapering rains Taste like absinthe Drowning the dearly departed Beget dreams like distant shores Bring only faded hopes of yore (a subdued candle in the dark grieving its last widow tears)
Your absence Is of the perturbed silence Silence of dry bones rise; Raising silent bones wry.
Speak! Speak! Speak! Will we ever understand? How death carves our seek In our bones undone?
::say something::
Date: | 2004-08-23 14:41 |
Subject: | 3 Wishes |
Security: | Public |
These are my three wishes before reaching 30:
1. Write a searing and shining literature.
2. One-man art photography-cum-nude exhibit.
3. Plant a seed.
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Date: | 2004-08-23 13:31 |
Subject: | Poetry Glimpse |
Security: | Public |
I am not in the position to critique this poem, Ariel by Sylvia Plath, but its vivid imageries and brilliantly dark ironies, evocative wit and haunting eloquence gives me a macabre feeling. A kind of hallucination I want to try.
Ariel by Sylvia Plath
Stasis in darkness. Then the substanceless blue Pour of tor and distances.
God's lioness, How one we grow, Pivot of heels and knees! -- The furrow
Splits and passes, sister to The brown arc Of the neck I cannot catch,
Nigger-eye Berries cast dark Hooks --
Black sweet blood mouthfuls, Shadows. Something else
Hauls methrough air -- Thighs, hair; Flakes from my heels.
White Godiva, I unpeel -- Dead hands, dead stringencies.
And now I Foam to wheat, a glitter of seas. The child's cry
Melts in the wall. And I Am the arrow,
The dew that flies Suicidal, at one with the drive Into the red
Eye, the cauldron of morning.
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Date: | 2004-08-19 18:48 |
Subject: | Disposition |
Security: | Public |
I feel so estranged with myself. Must be that my life is cursed with poetry-writing.
::say something::
Date: | 2004-08-19 13:44 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
Oddness of Out (a paradox on love/hate)
more poetry
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Date: | 2004-08-17 17:28 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
To Fly Is To Try Trickle
Inside this hourglass: It takes courage to dream. It takes
faith to see. It takes a lot to be one.
© 2004 Clee Andro
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Date: | 2004-08-12 13:38 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
The Light, part 8 * © 2004 Clee Andro
I am a paperloveboat on your ocean
and You are shining through my watery traffic thoughts tidal rush and halt and rush and halt the rush
your words abound in calms: qualms the squalls meaningless papers strewn like sands
your face is the cloudless sky in my derelict table I am bludgeoned in this travel; miles pole to pole groping missed, dark oceans I am wooden – flickering out from the shifting doldrums –
on how to write you down into the vitality of your archaic smiles; since you are a new persona blinding hapless feelings flash so fast
rays so sharp as a razor, cutting the edge of love a bow, a rudder, a keel, oh how... (I hate to love you in plain words) mind you, Captain, let your poem be my soul as your eyes become Beacon of my deathly day tender bright, shining wild, amid your naïve canopies
I am your unsinkable paper- love- boat.
I lost track counting lines, but go! sail, Love, figure it.
_______ * Author's Note: My contribution to lit.org's recent poetry thread.
::say something::
Date: | 2004-07-27 16:38 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
universe © 2004 Clee Andro
My studies in Speculative philosophy, metaphysics, and science are all summed up in the image of a mouse called man running in and out of every hole in the Cosmos hunting for the Absolute Cheese. — Benjamin DeCasseres
wind-dusk is a connotation, a breakaway flare opting somewhat versus somehow, you burn with flair
you glide, dance, misstep on me flooring my poetry, send-clouds them to dreams
to paper-blunder my pen-stroked luck; don't-get-stuck-struck an accidental beauty, a sudden Pollack
splattered canopies of words — colorful suspended clothes called syntax
worldly addiction of diction; between the letters are planets of punctuations —
protecting the thin filament of our soul as eyes read the wander-wonder-wanderlust
full of imageries; stopnot! at the writer's Black Hole don't fall out of the inescapable,
but zoom into the light!
so branch out your words grip~gripping~branchy~layers~gripevine~forested~mind~
you are a carpeted fabric, we love to weave: to tell dreams, catch air, build cosmos, oh-fly... wondercreate!
nevermind hasty missteps, your verbose suspension glides, dances smoothly
as a sunrise, like first-time kisses; you blew me away in wild abandon
wind-dusk is a breakaway flare, a connotation, opting, burning, flairing notion
anti-gravity — somehow you are somewhat: Sir, Poignance, you radiate permanence!
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Date: | 2004-07-19 08:58 |
Subject: | Buy This Dream; Pay It Forward! |
Security: | Public |
GOOD DEED #004 Requested by: Clee Andro (from Metro Cebu) Request: "Share GOOD food with a hungry child"
This afternoon, my friend Patrick and I went out to find a hungry child with whom we could share a meal.
We found ourselves walking along Tandang Sora, near Tierra Purra homes and Commonwealth Avenue. Now, we wanted to do more than just give away food. We actually wanted to share a meal with another human being in need. Or at least, to try. We wanted this good deed to be about connection, not charity.
Read more: From Patricia Faustino’s Blog at http://www.livejournal.com/users/buythisdream/2633.html
WILL YOU BUY THIS DREAM?
"From August 8 to 14, 2004, Barcelona will host the 3rd World Youth Festival with the participation of 10,000 young people from around the world. The World Youth Festival is the only event completely designed by and for youth organizations from all over the world. A committed, assertive, innovative, critical and constructive space that is founded on democracy, laicity, plurality, equality and respect. The Festival is a unique opportunity for regional youth platforms and organizations from all over the world to share ideas and projects. This year's themes will be cultural diversity, globalization, sustainable development, and conditions for peace..." --Taken from the official website of the World Youth Festival 2004.
Act now, click here if you like to make this world a better place to live in.
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Date: | 2004-07-14 11:50 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
Crack! (a haiku) © 2004 Clee Andro
go! wander with poems eating cereals, writing words you, baby, Egghead!
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Date: | 2004-07-13 12:24 |
Subject: | Poetry |
Security: | Public |
Entombed (elegy to the lover in me) © 2004 Clee Andro
If I had the chance love I would not hesitate To tell you all things I never said before Don't tell me it's too late -- Sarah McLachlan (Dirty Little Secret)
and if I shed a tear I won't cage it I won't fear love and if I feel a rage I won't deny it I won't fear love -- Sarah McLachlan (Fumbling Towards Ecstasy)
We die like dust motes -- non-existent in our hopes visibly invisible, our desperate deficiencies lazily filtering through a slanted ray from my room's window crack, hiding confusion the light escapes into an abandon disquiet black curtains screaming sarcastic sways trapping against grave illuminations slanting light in our wake burning the candles you bought, remembering a once, sunny day
your conundrum is a wilting Daisy flower; lean, cold stalks carrying spoon-shaped leaves, like Atlas feeding despair on my kiss-marked shoulder [blades], prostate petals now jutting out from the rim, a sudden brink, hanging low (like a rag doll) of a make-believe vase: feeling beautiful white, well-polished, immaculate in Zen respect a new sepulchre for your skeletal thoughts
Alone, my life with you is a karmic vortex: a heart of a dead, spiraling leaf unsettling on a damp, uneven earth there to fold in sober death; a void vacuum ephipanic moldy browns joining in somber rasps ephemeral curse of fragile clasps; existing brown leaves beckoning silence in quick gasps the earth sighs heavenward on my cuss * dying for the indifferent us
to lose you (shoo you away like an unwanted dog) -- like a one-day fever -- is my terrible angst and woe, a thorn in my skin forever
but you are no transient fever (not even a dog)
those sizzling instances with you: is a Geometry of seconds-minutes-hours-days-weeks- morethanthreemonths, moments to moments become nostalgic veins encrusted events, throbbing my life freeflowing my streams in the desert I am counting no more
it roots from my fickled regrets, losing my only reason for my smiles is beyond will and wish to keep on doing something -- to love you beyond words (and you know I can't write much)
and Die
things should be left unsaid I sever myself, buried and alive
and Live
the wind blows -- the undertow of detaching, mocking all curtained ironies, a blinding uncertainty, scattering
dust motes settling in my eyes come comeuppance with cries
_______ Author's note: A buddy, a mate or a soul friend.
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Date: | 2004-07-13 10:43 |
Subject: | An epiphany |
Security: | Public |
A sudden rush, come tidal wave of a thought engulfs me:
I am quitting my job.
The turbulence starts from a vivid image -- a dead brown leaf in my mind, falling, closing itself into the agony of a damp, indifferent earth.
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Date: | 2004-07-08 18:40 |
Subject: | Zeroing In On Poetry |
Security: | Public |
Poetry is akin to bubbles. As water is as volatile in itself, bubbles break free; free-flowing, wandering, adding wonder to an existing beauty.
What a brilliant wanderlust!
::say something::
Date: | 2004-07-07 14:23 |
Subject: | A non-bragging, self-praising, beauty queen WANTS you! |
Security: | Public |
This is a recent user's write-up (verbatim) in itzamatch!
I am a hard working woman. I am an achiever, I never give-up easily. Hard work never put me off! Sometimes I talk straight--as in to the point! I humby talk to people coz I want to be respected. I wittily make decisions but i get "loka" of one thing I make it sure i have the control... I love surfing the net web. At present, I'm taking up my masteral degree MDA (masters in developmental administration. I am a beauty queen in our place and during my school years..but I don't broadcast what pageants Ive joined and what I have won..I don't bragg it ... I better choose to be recognize as an academic achiever and a "career wooman with wits and glamour!" I was a frustrated cum laude but I talk with diligence than "others." I did my best to be one but what I earned is a failure to achieve such..but I don't feel frustrated! Life doesn't ends there! I have applied what i have learned better than those who were able to stepped on stage with flying colors.At present I have my job, others don't have! I still feel one of the victors! I am a home buddy... I know a lot of house hold chores... I am responsible and sincere to my job and work! I love surfing the net web... I love honest people... I love the cold breeze of Baguio city! I hate mayabang and super hangin! I love humble people and those who are optimistec in life.. I love thoughtful people and "caring". I hate talking with nonsense people... anyhow, i show interest to listen to them... I love to meet friends from far places... discovery! I am caring and sweet.. sentimental... I am not a "sosyalera"... I am much of practical type.. I don't even wear trendy clothes... classic jeans and shirt captivates me more... at least fascinated with Cool Water Woman... I don't put colors on my finger and toe nails. Enough that it is truly clean and suit with smart look, that's it! E-mail me often k? I'L be glad to meet you... CU!
Makes a good cartoon character.
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