The Raging Storm

The words won't come when they must.
But for an idle mind, these thoughts, they lust.
They inhabit every corner and side,
Leaving no space for silence to abide.
There's a whirlwind, a form of a storm.
It's raging and you know where it's come from.
But no one should know what's beneath your skin.
No one would care for this Trojan-like betrayal from within.
You want to be free, but be in control,
You wanna see what you want, but won't take what may unfold.
You wanna have your way and walk it too,
But you'll have to have your cake and eat it too.
Your thoughts are spinning wildly in a mess,
You want to pen it down, but you fear you'll digress.
And you search high and low for a place to let go,
For a reason to break and a ground that won't shake,
And you climb the tallest mountains and you sail the deepest seas,
Thinking your happiness lies in places hard to reach.
When all of a sudden life stops you in the middle of no where
And you close your eyes and feel the air.
And you take it in and let the storm out.
You let it fill you with strength and it dissolves the doubt.
You've been everywhere but inside of yourself,
That's where you go now, that's where you delve.
And your strength is back as easy as that,
You just needed to stop the noise, turn the volume down flat.
And you're on your knees and the feeling is gone
You open your eyes....

The storm was you all along.

Small Girl, Big World

Let me go to a far away land, let me see what the world has to show.
Let me marvel and grasp at the wonders of creation.
I want to sit at the edge of a cliff
and close my eyes and feel the breeze cool my feet.
At the top of a mountain, I want to feel as small as a rain drop.
I want to swim and dive down to the bottom of the ocean
and marvel at the creatures that breathe no differently than us.
I want to cross borders and feel like there is no color, but just that of humanity.
No boundaries, just the spread of culture and language.
I want to go and learn of the ways that my brothers around the world live and laugh.
And maybe we could laugh together at the fact that language divides us but expression doesn't.
I want to taste more than just cuisines, I want to taste the flavors of the land
and maybe that which makes these places so delicious to travel to.
Let me sail towards the horizon, until there is no horizon any more,
but just another piece of land inviting me to its shore.
I want to get lost, at least once, somewhere in a city
and I want to find my way home, wherever it may be at the time.
I want to hold the world in my hand but nonetheless feel like a grain of sand. 

Home Town

Miles away I've flown. Far from the land that gave me birth.
Far away from the life I knew for 17 long years.
And as I sit by the window here in this strange new land, I can't help but think of home.
I can't help but go back to my birth place, to a place only I know the way I do.
And no one can see it through my eyes.
No one knows how I'm taken back to those special moments.
To those long walks with a group of idiots that made my life complete.
No one knows those special outings that we made and surprised the people we loved.

No one know how much I crave the taste of the land.
The delicacies of my hometown,
When I close my eyes, I'm taken back, standing in front of the road side vendors,
Cooking up the most delicious snacks for the crowds that never lost their appetites.
My home land is drawing me back to the aroma of hot spicy food,
My mouth can't help but water at just the thought of the taste of my home town.

You can't imagine how I flash back to the streets that led me home from wherever I wandered.
Every step I took, I felt secure, because there were familiar faces and known people.
everywhere I went, I knew I had to be back home soon.
I couldn't stay away too long.
I knew my way back home so well, I could walk blindfolded around my home town
and still find my way back.

I miss those calls, from below my building,
those friends who wouldn't give me to enjoy an entire afternoon nap
"Get your ass down here", they'd say, "you can sleep when you're dead!"
I miss them screaming my name out in variating tunes just to catch my attention
I go back to them showing up at my place and finding me still in my pajamas
But I never bothered, they have seen me in worse,

but today as I sit by my window, in this new land,
I wonder if this will ever grow to be as much of a home town as that was.
Will I ever call this place home?
This place with eyes that look at me as a stranger.
The unfamiliar street and the cold atmosphere sends shivers down my spine.
Will I ever grow to make this my home?
Or will home always be far away, distant from me.

Silenced by my own thoughts,
the most I can do when I feel alone is....
Close my eyes, smell that food, walk those streets,
hear those calls, listen to those voices and lastly
 never feel alone.
I may have left home, but home hasn't left me.