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Louise 3d
Nalalayuan kaya ang mga ibon tuwing tinatanaw
ang malawak na hinagap ng kaparangan?
Nasisilaw pa rin kaya sila sa bukang liwayway
kahit mula pagkamulat ay iyon ang kinagisnan?
Nasasaktan pa rin kaya sila sa ganda ng paglubog ng araw
at ang angking kawalang pagkakatulad ng bawat isa?
Natatakot pa rin kaya sila sa halik ng dilim
kahit ang gabi ay nangangakong magdala ng lamikmik?
Kay rami ko pang nais itanong sa mga ibon,
kay bigat ng patong sa munti nilang mga pakpak.
Paano magtatanong ang isang hamak na bulaklak
sa kagitingan ng mataas at malayang agila?
Kay rami ko pang balak ibulong sa mga maya,
kung may pangarap man sila, ihahalik ko sa hiraya.
Ngunit anong magagawa ng isang payak na talulot
sa ilalim ng langit at sa ibabaw ng gumuguhong mundo?
Sa pagtatapos ng buwan ng panitikang pambansa...
First poem from El Nido series

ang pugad, the nest, el nido
🪺
Louise Apr 15
Why are you resisting?
You know that my place is all things holy.
Deep down, you're aware I am your sanctuary.
You too, are indoctrinated, yet another skeptic.
Come inside, I might just change your mind.

𝘊𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮.
𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘮.

Why are you fighting this?
You know that all I have is nothing but sacred.
One look up, you'll see the promised garden.
Like me, victim of religion, the wine to your bread.
Come here and hide, I might just change your life.

𝘊𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮.
𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘮.
𝘝𝘦𝘯𝘪 𝘩𝘶𝘤, 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰, 𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘰...
Louise Apr 10
When the western air blows,
I still feel you close...
As lovely as spring,
how bright are the colors you bring!

With the eastern breeze winds,
I always feel you near...
As warm as summer,
how fast you bury the cold of winter!

𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯'𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘦
è 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦
𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦.

𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢
è 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘻𝘻𝘢
𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘰 𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘢.
From the summer in Manila
to the spring in Milan ☀️⛱️🌸💐

Happy birthday, Vess!
Buon compleanno, Vess!
Louise Apr 8
Like roses are destined to dry,
I too deserve to be free
from expectations so mighty and high.

Like lilies will begin to wilt,
I too lay my palms open for another
sisterhood and kinship killed.

Like daisies are promised doom,
I too swear to grow everywhere
like mere and measly mushrooms.

Like carnations will clump and crumble,
I too let go of my rains and storms
and let it all out like a thunder’s rumble.
Louise Apr 8
When the hues of red turns purple,
that’s when you drink the wine.
When music is anything but loud,
that’s when you know it’s time.
Like prickly thorns must kiss
the tender petals goodbye.
Like little spiders must bid
their web of safety farewell.
Red to blue to yellow then white,
that’s when you wave and smile.
Loud to mellow to static then blank,
that’s your cue to go and never look back.
Louise Apr 8
“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦,
𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴”
Nature begs to be written,
walked over, talked about.
As beauty, art, landscapes,
birds, seascapes, also does.
No, they need to be spoken about,
sung hymns to, screamed atㅡsometimes.
And I would indeed stop and smell;
the roses, the sampaguitas,
admire and be awe-struck over
the lilies, the gumamelas,
even as they rot and dry away.
Even as I forget to eat, like a bad day.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬,
𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴”
Betrayal is part of human nature,
at this point and at this big age,
I suppose there is an equally
big truth in that. And much pain to boot.
And I suppose, too, I need to begin
to learn how to enjoy it.
Because betrayal too, has been
enjoying toying with me.
How do I write poems about it though?
Where do I even begin?
Probably with this:
“We used to be the best of friends,
but we were never each other’s
****** wedding guests.”
Another friendship ending, adjusting the guestlist of my wedding

writing, writing, writing
Louise Apr 1
It's April now and my skin is still as white
as the paper in which I whisper and write.
It hurts.
I want to see your face again.
It's summer now and my heart is still as cold
as if I'm another slave successfully sold.
It stings.
I want to hear your laugh again.
It's April now and my body is still as stiff
as a branch of a tree below a mountain cliff.
It burns.
I want to be with you again.
It's summer now yet it's winter in my soul
as if I know how winter feels, I'm a fool.
But it's cool.
I just want to see your face again.
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