(1) The Re-birth of the Forbidden Word
There is no logical explanation
why I'm still here for you.
I still feel the same way,
and my heart cries for pain
every time my brain stops it
from pouring emotions.
There is no single day
that I forget to remember you.
You are very much alive;
the inspiration, the dedication,
and the loyalty flow out like
gush of blood and stream of sweat.
There is no doubting
reality; truth liberates;
waiting is forever;
but what can I do?
I have loved you,
without counting how many times.
(2) A Sky Poem
You are a culmination of my
wholeness.
You are the key to the door to
sanctifying happiness—
to an untouched world, where I can
fly along
with you freely,
sing with you,
move according to the music of the
voices
that create colorful lines of light
in the midnight sky,
making real love.
You are what I have been waiting for,
dreaming of,
praying for.
You are a dream in reality,
for I can see you clearly,
but I cannot touch you—
to let you sense how my soul
transforms in trance by seeing
your wholeness.
And of all existences, passions,
humans, dreams,
there are no such other things like
you.
What appears is
you.
(3) Holey
I failed to make you see the things
that
I thought would make you see.
I failed to get my message across—
that you are the best thinker I have
ever met,
for you can think of me and the rest
of your galaxies all at the same time.
I failed to speak with you, because
every time there was a chance,
that small, elusive chance was like a
tadpole that keeps on
slipping my fingers infinitely and
getting lost in the dust.
It jumps back to my fingers and slips
again to swim in the dust.
You are changing, morphing, turning
into something existential—
something between the positive and
negative poles,
for you are nowhere to be found.
I could not find that potion that
regenerates a heart,
now holey, unnoticeably pierced by
your furtive sword.
The heart you can easily slip from,
like a tadpole
jumping through a flying circus ring.
The heart you can go back into, and
add more holes.
It shall heal, the tadpole will
become a frog
and forget that holey heart.
You are just in my holey heart.
I failed to tell you there are no
holes.
There is only you.
(4) Phone Poem*
As much
as I want to keep all I feel for you inside my tiny heart, it all the more
tries to escape;
there is
war.
Perhaps
you and I will never understand, how we could have ever met in this universe,
in this queer time.
As much
as I want to forget the first time I saw you, your existence haunts me;
it peeps
through my dream.
Those
eyes, brows, and your bare head--are what I see, even when I close my eyes for
a moment.
As much
as I want to stay away from you, my feet are resisting.
The rest
of my body are agreeing.
My hands
can't stop writing these fatuous words.
I don't
know you; you don't know me.
I am
happy knowing the uncertainty.
But when
I'm with you, I am just awkward.
My feet
want to sprint out of your door.
*GN
(5) Above all things I have
If it
were not for you,
all that
clogs my system would have been immovable.
Now,
I can see
the peeping edges of everything that I have taken inside me.
Those
strands and mushes overpower the acid of my existence.
But your
existence overpowers this mixture of things that turns into every meaningful,
divine step—
to reach
you,
and to be
with you.
These
things mean less than what you are to me.
(6) Your eyes
say it
all.
You may
not notice,
but they
speak more than
what your
lips tell me.
They launch
unspoken
words
that only my heart understands.
If only I
could take those eyes home.
If only I
could stand by you.
If only.
If only
things were different.
I'm going
home without those eyes,
but I
know they are watching me over,
until I
see those eyes again,
even my
heart shall remain unrequited.
Until
your eyes and my heart meet
at the
end of our roads.
There is
no turning back now; I will see your eyes there.
And the
smile that I long for the most.
(7) New Message
Love
knows no time;
it knows
no boundaries.
It only
knows you,
for
without you,
there is
no love.
Love is a
word;
and you
speak it.
(8) I long to see
those
serene eyes that put me in a trance;
like a
berserk sorcerer.
those
serene eyes that put me at a halt;
with the
time frozen
and the
world at a momentary pause.
(9) Renaissance
I am not
who I am today,
if it
were not because of you.
I almost
have lost interest in you--
but your
existence watches me.
I
transformed to a man, full of ambivalence:
I except
to your whims, your world.
I glide
on the clouds of doubt,
but you
are my sky of truth.
All I
have to do now is understand
how I
ever have met you, and how
I ever
want to stay away from you.
But we
are opposite poles of the magnet.
I am in
vogue, for you.
(10) Sunday
I felt
your wrath--in those serene eyes.
I felt
the hail storm come down my heart.
I felt
the handcuffs clutch
from your
hand to mine;
they
could not be broken,
when we
separated ways.
(11) After it all
There was
a little time for myself.
There was
a space between my mind and heart.
There was
you.
I
listened to the music
my ears
longed to hear—
the notes
that were unheard of,
the
rhythm that could not be expressed
by
mortals, like me.
And so I
was a human;
a
creature, who fought,
who lost,
who dag his own misery.
And so I
was a human;
whose
heart beat faster and faster
when
opportunity
knocked
at the door of a mansion
with a
maze to get to the archer
that
aimed and hit this heart,
with
blood gushing and words unrecited.
(12) I wish that I wish
I was dreaming
that I was dreaming about you.
with you
beside me—
giving me
the best ice cream in the world.
I was
dreaming that I was chasing after a child—
and when
I had finally gotten to this child, the child grew up
so fast,
turning to someone
who was
you.
I shared
with the child the creamy cone you had given me.
I was
wishing that I could wish to be
with the
person
who had
me with one tap at the back
a smile
and those
beautiful eyes and
calming
voice—
nothing
else but beauty.
and
golden heart.
I wish that
I wish I see you from above,
from an
eagle's view;
and I
attack with my claws
those
that hurt you.
Your
worries.
Your
taxing hours.
Your
headaches and pains and flus.
But I am
just a dust in the universe.
(13) Derailed
I shiver.
Your
words flashed
memories
of you and I
emblazoned
on the
train
station—
feet
scurrying to the exit
that I
hope
I can
find
now.
(14) I guess
we are
not destined to be together
in a
well-lit room, full of ashes
and
drowned by alcohol.
I guess
we are not destined to be together
in the
midnight sky
our stars
belong to irreconcilable
constellations.
I guess
we are better off
as dried
leaves
drawn
away by the twin falls.
But who
knows, perhaps
those
leaves will meet again
in the
sewage of elusive
coincidence.
(15) I wrote this for you
What was
important for me was to see you.
And see
you happy.
What was
essential for me was to be with you.
And smell
your existence.
What was
ecstatic for me was to see you.
And hear
your voice.
Your eyes
magnetized my eyes.
Three
seconds was like eternity.
I don't
know what was on your mind.
You don't
know how you invaded my mind.
I get so
weak hearing you say my name.
And
talking to me.
But that
day was special for me.
It was my
present to myself:
To see
your masterpiece
and to
replenish this empty heart
with your
breathing, your voice.
It's when
you're near I don't feel
a
stranger in the night.
(16) Our Hollows
I was in
deep slumber when you were not around.
I was
dreaming of your arrival at my drunken place.
I had a
cone of ice cream that did not melt.
You had
me at one tap at the back.
You had
me believed that you were my savior.
You were
a seed growing inside my body.
We have
never really met at all.
We are
worlds apart.
We have
been looking at each other:
with the
universe between us.
(17) Re-Visit to the Ivory Shanty
Along the
wayward, unsung heroes
We,
again, crash on crystal life
full of
gray sand
gray sand
tool.
From where
we started
we come
back
to the
everlasting
pun and
twists of
living
the ironies of
death and
resurrection.
Where the
gray sand
is the
priest, and black and white
do not
meet or
nothing
at all.
Go under
your bed
and under
your bed
is an
invisible truth
That
is--you.
(18) Post-College Syndrome
I have
been writing and appreciating poetry since my primary school days. I wrote
almost anytime, anywhere. Some of it I have lost; some still with me. Now the
following "disturbed" poem was the product of a post-college
syndrome, which lingers up to today. This is "intertextual," so
language majors say, and I can say, perhaps, very complex and raw:
I Have Sinned
A
mongrel
in the night
whoo-whooing–
man of culture, su-
percalifragilisticexpiali-
docious. He triggers the gun-
blade among the children of desti-
ny/advent children. Akin to faith he asks
the saint of labor why he is nowhere. Tonight,
the mongrel grasps the Beatles. Twelve Midnight.
He holds tight. Upright. Diamond tears in the chamber
react to ammos. World War. The Holy Mongrels:
the hollow men are his comrades. Legalese &
hotel. Partner. And, eureka. He meets The
One. Salvaged from Evanescence. Al-
low me to zell smile. His Guardian
Forces rejoice. The English Ma-
jor is The Lionheart--needs
sharpening. No more Dark
Matter & Black Materia.
Devour Ultimecia
For me. Miss
X
Mea Culpa
(19) It was not so long
ago
Come
to the places where we rode your bicycle
And
we both fell to a puddle of mud splashing earth in your face
It
was not so long ago.
Come
to the bridge where we started to think about your beautiful day
when
your teacher said you have got the world in your hands
It
was not so long ago.
Come
to the train station where we were talking about breaking someone’s skull
and
wondering what was inside it
It
was not so long ago.
Come
to the top of the hill where we flew our kites
that
were entangled when the wind blew so hard
It
was not so long ago.
Come
back to the earth where our feet were coated with dung and mud —
When
we did not care how we stank and stepping on the floors our mothers
industriously swabbed.
But
I cannot come to the time when we said goodbye on one violet afternoon, you
flew away like our kites.
I
am afraid the wind cut your string I was holding.
Then
someone called me to do the dishes.
(20) Disclosure
Little
by little
Each
second collapses
Like
trappings removed
One
by one
From
the present.
Thinking,
judging each
Possible
outcome
Assuming,
expecting failure
Thinking
devours feeling
My
face looks for cover
And
my body locks
itself
in an unknown universe.
And
the gift remains in the now,
Waiting
to be opened.
(21) I am
Filipino.
And
I don’t know why.
Well,
I was born
in
a country where
citizens
are foreigners,
who
claim they are F’lips.
Where
many a people
are
struggling, hoping,
wishing,
imagining,
fantasizing
to be like
a
foreign land.
Where
families are so tight
that
their relatives are their
ultimate
rivals.
Where
people make rules
and
become rulers.
Where
the poor cry for
justice
and the rich
cry
for tax exemption.
Where
I see that
its
future is great
because
its people
are
great. We
are
great,
I
am.
(22) Tell me
I don’t know,
I have no idea,
I am clueless.
I have no control,
But there is an
invisible
force that controls me.
You don’t have to tell
me.
I know me.
(23) Pov-Urbani-ty
It is a world between
Smoke belchers and
Body odors.
In between shoulders
There is massive
strength
Interlocking, avoiding
space ––
Inhaling each other’s
air.
Massive sharing of
colorful smells.
Each one pops like corn
In massive heat, when
the pot cover is
lifted.
Another wave of
sardines is coming.
(24) Cheese
What else?
Cheers.
Sex.
Chicken.
Eh.
Or nothing at all.
Swarm of bee whores
Approach it
Hover it
But never touching it
The lenses are indeed
celebrity.
(25) Where is it coming from?
Power and spirit mark
the greatness within.
They rise in the ranks
of a muddy crowd,
stinky rubbish, cracks
and debris.
They forever bleed, for
in their blood
courage and truth
thrive, giving them
endless hope and
endless sky.
Pride and honor are
what they breathe
Deep into their souls,
they roam,
amplified by enormous
strength of faith.
They eat evenings,
soaked in death
They die every hour,
they moan and cry
They die for one, for
all, for himself.
In order that others
may live,
Because they are
one––Ubuntu.
They are worthy, they
are love.
(26) Block
the writer, is trapped
in the mental process,
in the walls of
uncertainty.
Nothing follows.
(27) Squirt
My fingers are
transforming
To uncontrollable
muscles.
Their excitement
surmounts
That of a husband
waiting for
His first born.
It is protruding from
its thin skirt
And one touch it can go
Far away as a baseball
home run.
Or it can never be
found.
One look at it makes
the owner
Stride back and forth
the powder room,
the rest room, his own
room, her mirror.
Their fingers don’t
worry cleanliness.
Like a hungry cat, he
will jab at it,
And feel it, and pops
it like a balloon.
Its offspring flows,
flies,
the owner wants to
catch it.
Ahhh emptiness feels
good.
(28) Spotlight
I feel you, then my
eyes follow
a beautiful creature,
like a fallen angel.
I smell you, my energy
seems like
consuming me, and
becomes higher
And higher until it
reaches another
plane of energy, so
focused.
My eyes see only you.
Your every move feels
like magic.
I surrender to your
existence.
It’s like an ice pop.
When you go away,
There’s another day.
(29) Kites, Keys,
Krinkles*
One,
school. In a jar. The only cookie, looks like one.
But
it was tender, so tender. It melted down my throat.
Two,
lunch. At an eatery. Generosity. My pseudo-aunt
placed
on my palm that cookie look-alike. Still tender, so tender.
Three,
internet. On the book of faces. I ate your timeline.
Thunders
went down my spine. That cookie is a mystery.
You
are the solution.
By
chance.
*Krinkles
intended
(30) Fill my cup
I
am inside you.
I
have never written anything for months;
my
fingers are frozen.
My
hands were soaked in the fondue of overflowing sand.
My
mind was in your impenetrable cocoon.
My
heart was trapped somewhere between your lungs.
You
know I always come back.
You
know I want to change nothing.
There
is nothing better than feeling freedom with you.
No
forevers can change it.
(31) Getting there
is
not easy.
I
have to wear all these
realities,
and disrobe them
while
traversing
the
road of inconsistency,
uncertainty.
But
one thing is certain—
I'm
getting near
you.
(32) Heart of Coal
This
heart knows no pain—it knows no sorrow.
For
there is a blade pierced through this heart
that
only you can withdraw.
We
are swallowing epiphany.
(33) I Breathe You*
You
are the only other half that makes me whole.
.....
It
is true, it is what my heart is saying.
You
are my air.
The
love I have found in you is a life
that
throbs all through my veins and skin.
.....
.....
I
breathe you, like water for trees,
music
for the soul, honey for bees.
Nothing
could compare how
your
love has transformed me.
I
was crippled and now I can walk.
I
was blind and you made me see.
I
was dumb and now I am bright.
It
was you who made me well.
You
taught me how to love.
And
now I know how to love,
this
love should only be with
one
human being.
It
was you,
and
is you,
until
He takes this life away.
*RE
(34) Illuminate
the
heart that is wrapped by
dark
clouds and locked by
your
blinding lightning.
Illuminate
the
heart that is clutched to
your
gloomy heart ensconced
in
the seat of your happiness.
Illuminate
this
heart—
fierce
but full of fear—
that
your heart owns.
(35) You are my sky
for
I always look up to you,
and
you look after me.
You
have never changed a thing.
You
have given me more reason
to
feel the warmth of your endearment.
You
have crushed all my worries;
you
have never thought ill of me.
You
are killing me—
with
those ceaseless cares and wits.
I
have never thought you could be like this,
hanging
on the cliff of my whims.
I
have never foreseen how special I could be—
I
was blinded and my judgment was clouded,
with
all of you.
What
could I ask for, when all I have is you.
(36) New Message
Love
knows no time;
it
knows no boundaries.
It
only knows you,
for
without you,
there
is no love.
Love
is a word;
and
you speak it.
HAIKUS (sinulat sa taxi)
(37) Maneho, pula
Dilaw,
luntian mula
sa
Kapasigan.
(38) Edsa shaw, trapik
Puwit
sa puwit, saltik
Wag
kang pipitik.
(39) Sabi ng puso
Umuwi
ka na baby
Lipad
na taxi
(40) Bakit ang ilaw
maliwanag
kung gabi
Laki
ng kita.
to be a dark alley -- a place of fear,