If the moon and stars ever had eyes they too would melt looking at your smile shine.
If the trees ever bothered to look down as we talked throughout the night it would feel a sense of camaraderie,
seeing me yearn for you as it too yearn for the sunlight.
If the sand ever cared to listen they too would swoon and be swayed by your mirth-filled laughter
that dances in cadence with the waves hitting the shorelines.
If the wind could talk it would whisper to you that it felt my heart wishing for you
to be mine.

Wag piliting magmahal ng iba
Pag sarili ay di pa kayang mahalin
Bigyang kahulugan ang sariling talata
Ito’y sa iba huwag hanapin
Pagkat ang malabong imahe
pag binigyan **** kulay,
sadyang malabo parin.
.

I revisited this site and saw
How much I've written, how much I've grown.
Saw poems I cant believe I wrote
Words uttered, rhymes of note,
Emotions shared and shown,
Lines made repository of happiness and woes.

Some things have changed
While other remained the same.
I still write about love
Yet love eludes me all the same.
I cant write as actively as I want to be
Inspiration doesn't come in troves anymore, you see.

With age comes responsibilities,
Opened eyes requires facing life's realities.
But I'll continue living, maybe write a line or two
Maybe post it here, just like you do.
Life is hard, that much is true
But I'll still strive to thrive and I hope you do too.

Live, find the beauty in things,
Wonderful sceneries, family gatherings,
special people or precious pets,
in choices you've made, with or without regrets,
I hope even in love lost or memories that stings
You'll find the sliver of good that hopefully it brings

Live through books, music, or through poems
If there is not a person or a place,
may words be your home.

it was real
but it was not love
it was cleanly folded paper forming origami doves
but its not doves
nor was it love.

it demanded to be felt
to have a deeper meaning in the proximity
like constellations up above
but it was not love
misread by the heart
like stars seemingly aligned to one another but lightyears apart
it was not love.

i wish to stay,
pray,
fight for it to be what we want it to be,
love
but its not enough,
not if its not love.

Thoughts traverse my mind
As I walk the road home,
Steps mindlessly taken forward.
By myself, but not alone.

Kept company by my thoughts
About today, about tomorrow,
Of my actions of yesterday
Filled of happiness, or of sorrow.

Have I done what I could?
Is what I've done, what I should?
Should I have done what I did?
Why was I so cringe as a kid.

Given a chance for a life do-over,
Would I make the same choices again?
If I change some things, will I do better?
Or will it be for naught; in vain.

What should I do tomorrow?
Would it still be the same as today?
Am I doing what I want in life?
Or am I wasting it all away?
Am I just going to be stuck here forever?
Existing but so monotonously
Or can I live with the consequences of doing what I want,
And let things be?


Oh this thoughts, they walk with me.
Unrelenting, everyday, constantly.
On the road home, directions known with certainty,
I walk lost in dysphoric reverie.

but i cannot be
for i am not free
i am shackled
by people's expectations, the responsibility
to make them happy
to make them feel not hurt
even in times when i feel like dirt.
Even when i'm down,
i cannot be me
because, only as dirt can i help them grow
to help them heal
to make them feel loved and appreciated
for their need for validation to be constantly satiated
only as dirt, can i help them bloom
to be the person they need to be.
Son. Lover. Brother. Friend.
i am always another
but i am never me.

You're a light
Of course you bring with you
shadows of your past
But alas,
I wish i was mature
But i am not
I still ask
Will i also become
A shadow of your past?

is to put a dagger in people's able hands
hoping they won't slit your throat
when come daylight ends.

you have no idea
how hard I try to make you feel

I have always preferred
my relationships
chill and breezy
but
Good Lord!
You ignite
millions of storms
in me.

'search for the truth' is the guise
upon which Pride
stealthily hides.

Love hurts, maim, can ****
yet, we breath it still.

why?

is a poetry
a limerick
a tragedy

scribble
littered
notebook

spilt ink
wasted
papers

some poems
never
written

some poems
never
spoken

thoughts
caged in
the mind

words that
never
sufficed.

I have cried you a river
baptized you in that water

I made you my religion
yet you're distant; oblivious

your silence is deafening
yet here I am still hoping
waiting
unrequitedly loving.

are a mystery
amidst the sea
of
dogmatic bigotry

Flat stones skipping rippling water
reminiscing old memories
now that I am older

I remember climbing narra trees
with friends full of jollity
reminiscing old memories

I remember me feeling carefree
swimming through turquoise river currents
with friends full of jollity

I remember every moment
like the laughter-filled walk home after
swimming through turquoise river currents

Oh! the life I used to live is
still as good as i remember
like the laughter-filled walk home after.

As I now stand on the same river
flat stones skipping rippling water
still as good as I remember
now that I am older.

I have always wondered
how your kisses
never touched my soul

now I realize
that your love
for me was never whole.