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Archive for the ‘Write On’ Category

Whatever Cinta Is…

Posted in Write On, tagged on May 4, 2010| Leave a Comment »

This is my all-time favorite love poem:

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Sonnet 17

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I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

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I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

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I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

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in which there is no ‘I’ or ‘You’;
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand
so close that when you fall asleep it is my eyes that close.

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by Pablo Neruda

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Readability

Posted in Write On, tagged on April 29, 2010| Leave a Comment »

Over the years I thought it was just a thought. And I thought it was just my little wishful thinking wishing for some special talent I wished I had. But over the years I realized that I have not been wrong about pictures I have consciously read.

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I am no fortune teller. Heavens no! I cannot tell who’s going to hell and who’s not going to heaven. But I can kinda tell who is in limbo.

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I have not been doing as much reading as I would like to lately. And yet I read too much.  I think it’s time to start writing again.

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Lah Urang Juo

Posted in Poetry, Write On, tagged on April 28, 2010| 1 Comment »

Enida bapantun juo di rambang patang…

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Apo digadang puluik basabuik,
udang di Banang indak tabali;
Mato mamandang muluik manyabuik,
urang dikanang indak paduli.

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*Enida
Bukit Pokrovsky
Moscow
Russia

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Silver Bullet Bitten

Posted in Write On, tagged on April 27, 2010| Leave a Comment »

This picture. There was a story that came with it. In fact, there was a story that came with everything I saw, everything I captured with my out-of-date little camera. And I was going to tell you the story right away.

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But then I changed my mind. The way I change my mind everytime a not-so-good thought comes knocking. I don’t open my door to bad thoughts. Not usually. I don’t even ask ‘Who’s there?’

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The truth is, a year ago, if I had let the clouds of pain take me over… there was going to be no such thing as silver lining. Or silver anything. There wasn’t even going to be the silver-like ring on any of my fingers. Forget silver bells.

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I came a long way, as the story did not unfold just a year ago. It had started long before that. And the other truth is, I have been rethinking about it all lately. About how we choose from choices, opportunities and second chances granted to us. About how our choices lead us to where we are today.

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And for me to have been in Calgary in April 2010 despite what happened in April 2009 and August 2008… I have had my silver storms. I had seen months of rain with no sign of rainbows. I had seen clouds with the chance of armageddon. I had lost hope, found it, lost it again and faked one or two (or three).

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The only un-artificial thing left on me is probably my teeth. Even they have been filled with silver and mercury. And even they have not been able to turn me into a silver-tongued Enida. Well, such is life. And questa… è Enida. ¡Ya basta!

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Speechlessly Seduced

Posted in Travel, Write On, tagged , on April 17, 2010| 5 Comments »

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Yours Truly (Asian)

Posted in Write On on April 16, 2010| Leave a Comment »

I was dancing silly to this tune this morning, giving quite a performance to me Monchies, sending them laughing their butts off on the hide-a-bed, almost getting myself caught by my mother-in-law, and earning a few slaps on the behind by me hubba… when I realized how much I missed shaking me booties, boobies and boogies:

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You cannot take Enida too far too long from her bootylicious gelek mode. Eeeehhhh! Ahh ahh! Shake it baby, shake it baby one more time!

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Miloneum

Posted in Monchies, Write On, tagged on April 15, 2010| 8 Comments »

I actually did look, one night, for something to drink other than coffee. But I wasn’t going to crawl into Mom’s kitchen cabinet, for the fear of finding more drinks other than coffee. Not that I mind other drinks. Hehe. Chai, perhaps?

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Lo and behold, the very next evening, Mom recalled that she had some hot chocolate powder in her storage. I guess she could smell that I was thirsty for something more. Something else.

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Yes, ladies, gentlemen and you too, Jimmy… my Mom (mother-in-law) had a jar of chocolate-malt drink mix she had been keeping since 2006. For me, alright! Maybe I should have gone crawling into her kitchen cabinet.

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It was MILO! Four miloneums old. But hey, I am still alive.

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Change Change Changed

Posted in Write On, tagged , on April 12, 2010| 2 Comments »

The last visit to Calgary, for me, was between November 2006 and January 2007. So this visit, over three years later is to see a changed woman. A changed-for-the-much-better woman who now knows how to take. I am done giving.

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So give me, Questa è Enida, a big applaud… tuan-tuan, puan-puan sidang pembaca sekalian. Yes, termasuklah Puan Shower Cap yang membaca. Ahak ahak! Sepertilah tidak ku tahu ya?

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I was young and stupid too, once. But I was done being stupid at 26. I suppose some people just began being. Bah!

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What’s Missing

Posted in Sense, Write On, tagged on April 11, 2010| 2 Comments »

I’ve been missing. And I’ve been missing myself too, other than writing. The goings have kept on going, you’re right. My thoughts have kept up. And yeah, they are probably 14 hours ahead of what my body can take. But what has been on my mind is you. Do you read me?

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For An Azalea…

Posted in Poetry, tagged on April 2, 2010| Leave a Comment »

For an azalea
so rare and so few, Mom…
I knew not how to love you.

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So I’ve loved you like I knew.
I’ve loved you like a Rose, so blue.
For I am as rare… as you.

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Enida
April 2, 2010
Pokrovsky Khilma
Ulitsa Beregovaya Tri

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A special thank-you to my Swiss-Italian Rose… Sis Anahid Rose Lombard in Lugano.

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And a special ‘Happy Birthday’ wish with lots of love, hugs and kisses to Afreena Mariessa, my first niece, a petite rose, from Aunty Nid.

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