PROSE-POETRY-PERSONAL ESSAY|NIGHTMARE
Forgive Me, Mother, My Visions Are Your Nightmares
An era of enlightenment and terror
With my loving mother as the forerunner, some people believe I somehow seized a significant chunk of the brain when the gods of the heavens showered the earth with knowledge and blessed mortals with mental powers.
Old-wives-tale, which says a massive brain equals intellect.
Apologies to my dearly beloved mother and her loyalists, if there were any, but while the immortals were occupied in waving their wands above random heads to grant brainpower, I guess I must have been hiding, buried someplace, lost in a gleaming and yet the bare world of nonsensical and impractical imaginings —
Of Yamashita treasures and paradise lost,
Magnificent castles in the sky, action stars, and peanut-buttered scones
Of Somalia and Manila and the imploring, mournful vacant eyes and bulging chocolate brown little tummies of emaciated younglings
Santana wannabes skillfully and tragically strumming chords
The golden rays of the sun, the clear blue sky, and the 300-zillion dimming stars
Lip-sticked, mini-skirted, sweet-painted ladies with a broom and a brush
Oratorical maniacs with their…
