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?

Woe to the country
once full of pulcher and life
torn by ideals and strife

woe to the bullet
gunshots gnawing through flesh
seeking for the life supposed to take

woe to the soldier
nursing death
desolate of the horrors he has mete

woe to the army
marching steadfast
clung upon by ghosts of foes and comrades past

woe to the child
walking towards home
but sees only wreckage; broken dreams

woe to the families
braving the seas
yonder hope for safety

woe to the lives
wasted
upon what exactly?

woe to us
can we not hear their cries?
or is it indifference?

woe to mankind
woe to you, oh man!
what have you become?

**What have we become?

is a poetry
a limerick
a tragedy

why?

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.

as the golden torch
falls into the abyss
millions of sparks rise
to light the path for the amiss.

The greatest what-if
between you and me
stands dearer still
than what we have in reality

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

Baby, you're a poetry
full of passion
emotion
richness
and elegance

a piece that fills me with ecstasy
lustfully
genuinely
full of fiery sensuality
as hot
as the midsummer sun

your lips is an oasis
slake away my thirst

strip away your inhibition
strip it down into words

show me what is inside
show me your prose and lines

let me loose on your body
on your skin supple, divine

let me relish every words
discover every parts
with my tongue

Baby, if you are a poetry
let me sing your entirety
let me be your willing bard.

the bitterest most painful cry of all
is the cry of regret
especially when Time makes you recall
the things you haven't mete
Kisses. Hugs. some of the things we lament
for time is now all spent.

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.
.

to have loved deeply is to be mold
carved by the warmth of the hands you dearly hold
to be loved is to be told
of love reciprocated,
words affirming,
priceless yet cannot be sold.

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

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.

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

scribble
littered
notebook

spilt ink
wasted
papers

some poems
never
written

some poems
never
spoken

thoughts
caged in
the mind

words that
never
sufficed.

are a mystery
amidst the sea
of
dogmatic bigotry