The day you are born
Is the last day you’re free.
That is, at least, for the body scorned
With the routine drudgery
That is wake-eat-work-sleep,
Repeat and rinse. Rinse and repeat.
Unspared the heart that tries to keep
The symmetry and style of every beat,
A drummer in the midst of a battle
Without a reason or a cause.
Equally engaged is the mind on the prattle
And mettle and whittle and spittle of dross
And loss that gnaws and claws, and goes.
I seem to have left my soul somewhere, out there.
I ask people if they saw it. Nobody knows.
I bet it’s swimming in Madagascar,
Or climbing the white Alpine giants,
Or maybe it’s in Kenya, skydiving
In a black coat and a suave tie and in blue pants,
Without a care, freely flying, soaring, hoping.
My body and my mind and my heart, you see
Are stuck in the world, but Oh, my soul, my soul is free.

Previous Post
Next Post
Leave a comment


  1. Reads like it could be a song? (:

  2. jian5

     /  February 23, 2010

    Haha, let’s make it into one?

  3. meeyamia

     /  February 28, 2010

    Seems like the trend is for souls to fly. I guess it was your soul who hugged mine in The Rant (my post). Looks like our souls are hanging out at around the same place 🙂


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

  • Calendar

    February 2010
    S M T W T F S
    « Jan   Mar »
  • Archives

  • Categories

  • Oliman

    For people who love to think.

    Jian Carlo R. Narag, MD


  • Advertisements
%d bloggers like this: