Maaaring nagsisinungaling ang mga makata.
Nalilimutan ko na ang tunog ng iyong tawa.
Pinipilit maalala ang iyong tinig sa tuwina.
Tulungan mo akong maalala.
Baka nga sinungaling ang makata.
Inuukit sa isip ang mga salitang binitawan.
Binabaybay sa tula, binubuo sa iyong wika.
Tulungan mo akong gunitain ka.
Baka nga isang krimen ang sumulat ng tula.
Kada letra ay lenggwaheng naglalakbay,
Kada pahina ay anod na di matatangay.
Tulungan mo akong lumutang.
Baka nga kriminal ang maging makata.
Nalulunod sa tinta ng pagkalumbay,
sa ilalim ng alon ng paghihintay.
Tulungan mo akong tumula.

𝑨𝒚 𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐,
𝒎𝒂𝒂𝒂𝒓𝒊 𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒐.
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈,
𝒊𝒔𝒂 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒎𝒆𝒋𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒔!
¡𝑨𝒚! 𝑨𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒐...
𝑫𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒌𝒐 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒂,
𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂, 𝒑𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈...
𝑨𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒂𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒂,
𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔, 𝒑𝒖𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒔...

𝑰𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒂,
𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒂𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒂
𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒐,
𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒐...
𝑺𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒈, 𝒔𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒊,
𝒄𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒂,
𝒄𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒆𝒔𝒕á 𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒂...
𝑼𝒏𝒂, 𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒘 𝒎𝒐 𝒔𝒂 𝒔𝒆ñ𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒐,
𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒑𝒂𝒚.
𝑰𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆ñ𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒐,
𝒓á𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒐 𝒅𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒑𝒂𝒚,
𝒉𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒚𝒂'𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒚-𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒚.
𝑰𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒐, 𝒅𝒆𝒋𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒆𝒍 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒂 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆 𝒂 é𝒍,
𝒊𝒕𝒐'𝒚 𝒌𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒚𝒂 𝒚 𝒎í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒂𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊é𝒏.
𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒐 𝒔𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒉𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒔𝒂'𝒚𝒐.
𝑺𝒂 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒕𝒊 𝒎𝒐, 𝒔𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒈 𝒎𝒐.
𝑫𝒖𝒅𝒂 𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒊 𝒔𝒊𝒚𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒊 𝒔𝒂 𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒎𝒐.
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒎í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐.
𝑴í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒆.
𝑴í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒆.
𝑲𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒐'𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏, 𝒊𝒕𝒐'𝒚 𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝑵𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒓𝒐 𝒌𝒐 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒊
𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒂𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏
𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒐,
𝒔𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒍 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒊𝒅𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒐...
𝑺𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏, 𝒔𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂,
𝒄𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒔,
𝒄𝒖𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒚 𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒂...
𝑼𝒏𝒂, 𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒘 𝒎𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒐,
𝒓á𝒑𝒊𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒂.
𝑰𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒐 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒕𝒐,
𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒔𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒘,
𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒚𝒂 𝒂𝒚 𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒘.
𝑰𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒐, 𝒅𝒆𝒋𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒍𝒂 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒖 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒉𝒐,
𝒊𝒕𝒐'𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒚𝒂, 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒔ó𝒍𝒐 𝒎í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐.
¿𝑴í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒓 𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐,
𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓? ¿𝑷𝒐𝒓 𝑫𝒊𝒐𝒔?
𝑫𝒖𝒅𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒆 é𝒍 𝒕𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊é𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒒𝒖é 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒊ó.
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒎í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐.
𝑴í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒆.
𝑴í𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒆.
𝑺𝒊 𝒎𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔, 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆.
𝑬𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆 𝒅𝒆 𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒐,
𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒃𝒓𝒂 𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒂.

Penitencia número uno:
Intentaré no pensar en ti y en mí en la misma cama.
Y tú también, intenta no pensar en el color de mi piel
ni en mi cuerpo.

Penitencia número dos:
No hablaré contigo, esta es una oración
y una promesa.
Y tú también, sigue haciendo lo que haces,
finge que no quieres mis besos.

Penitencia número tres:
Intentaré imaginar que eres el sol quemando mi piel.
Qué dolorosamente bien besas mi cuerpo.
Y tú también, trata de imaginarme
como si fuera la luna de tu marea.
Como si no pudieras estar sin mí por la noche.

Penitencia número cuatro:
No te hablaré, pero me arrodillaría frente a ti como un altar.
Qué fervor te oraría y te adoraría.
Y tú también, intenta orar a Dios por mí cuando
ya me haya ido para siempre.
Como si pudieras vivir sin mí en este mundo loco.

Penitencia número cinco:
Es simple. Iría, saldría de tu vida y te regalaré mi silencio.
Debería ser simple. Déjame ir y regálame el camino de salida
si no puedes darme el cielo.

The original
The mother pearl of the orient
The mother church
The noble and ever-loyal
A poem in my mother tongue
Songs and dances in yours
People were dying here all the time
Now there are weddings, there’s even a line
People were shooting each other dead
Now there are kisses and laughters shared
López de Legazpi’s lego house
Joaquin’s literary muse
By sword and fire
By the walls of surprise
“But, Manila?!”
For the city we love to hate
And "Ahh, Manila..."
For the city we hate to love
There used to be blood splattered
brains scattered on the cobblestones
And until we’ll walk these streets together
hearts will be shattered in these cold walls
My home, sweet and hot and spicy Manila
Soon yours, darling lover
Through storms of desire
By my walls broken down in sight
My fortress, my quiet night
This is the Manila I want you to see
This is the postcard I want to send with glee
By sword and fire, here, I proclaim you mine
By these walls so high, I crawl, wait, and cry

I want him to be smart and funny,
so I can forget curses and bury older jokes
with the music of our laughters.
I want him to be happy, I'll make him happy,
so we can drown our worries and sorrows
when we're in each other's company.
I don't want him perfect,
I want him faithful.
I want him to take care of me better,
I don't mind a little cold here and there,
as long as we know that our home
is full of warmth and it's ours alone.
I want him kind too, and warm,
so I can forget for a while the world is cruel
when I'm in the safety of his arms.
I don't want him perfect,
I want him gentle.
I want him to hold me tighter than ever,
I don't mind storms every now and then,
as long as we know we are each other's
own sanctuary, safe space and shelter.
I want him loyal and raw as I am,
so we can rest easy and sleep at night
knowing we're the same soul, we are one.
I don't want him perfect,
I want him all to myself and mine alone.

I can carve your name among the stars
with my paper, pen, acrylics, and art.
I can turn you into a museum
through my own pain, sadness, and gloom.
I can display you like a gallery,
with my lips and hips seared onto your skin.
I can raise your name into immortality
through my songs and poetry.
I can give you eternity
with my madness and mercy.
I can make you a living God
through my beauty and love.

With your eyes that lights up as you smile,
you could stretch a beach by another mile...
With your hair that falls like the forest light,
you make a nocturnal excited for sunrise...
You are a prize without a price!

Your dreams are a promised destination,
with your warmth that heals
under the island sky...
Your skin is a timeless celebration,
with your cheeks that redden
under the summer's touch...
You are a revelation and a surprise!

𝘗𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘢;
𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭 é𝘴 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘦𝘭 𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯,
𝘪 𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘳𝘪𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘴ó𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.
𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴ó𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘶𝘴,
𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘳-𝘩𝘰 𝘵𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭 𝘮ó𝘯 𝘥𝘦 𝘋é𝘶.
𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘹𝘰𝘴
𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘪 𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴
𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘴,
𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘶𝘴 𝘤𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘪 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘴ó𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘶𝘴!
☆

Sé que tú también lo sentirlo,
la misma frustración
que siento en mi corazón.

Sé que tú también lo ves,
compartimos la misma condición
que está llena de dolores.

Sé que tú también puedes oírlo,
las mismas canciones
que canto o escribo en secreto.

Pero sé que ya lo sabes,
compartimos el mismo jardín y mundo
que está lleno de magia y flores.

Start with my neck,
and then go around my nape...
While you hold me from behind,
your body's like an unsung hero's cape...
Trail your left hand down my chest,
as the right one anticipates on my waist...
While you kiss me in the neck,
where your hands lifted their weight...
Let your hands trail some more,
as your legs join my sides...
My body, you're most welcome to explore,
or even crucify ****** into the night...
Pin down my arms and hands,
stab me with an emotionless face...
And as you end with my feet,
wash them, then lock my knees in place...
And finally, yet again, end with my feet.

Start with my neck, next my nape,
take me from behind,
then hold me from my chest, next my waist,
a little more in the neck again,
take your hands all over,
next are my sides,
then my arms,
then my hands,
then my feet,
my locked knees,
and finally ending with my feet.
This is exactly how you'd **** me,
and at the same time rebirth me.

𝑭𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕, 𝒂 𝑭𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅
𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆;
𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍.
𝑨 𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍.
𝑨 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒖𝒕 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒔,
𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒔.
𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒚, 𝒂 𝑭𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒏;
𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒅,
𝒕𝒐 𝒏𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚,
𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒘𝒏.

𝑨 𝑭𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏𝒆...
𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆.
𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒎 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒏.

𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒔,
𝒔𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒚,
𝒂 𝑭𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆;
𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒏.
𝑨 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆.
𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒆𝒍𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍,
𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔.
𝑼𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚, 𝒂 𝑭𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒐 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂 𝒘𝒆𝒂𝒑𝒐𝒏;
𝑰𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅,
𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚,
𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏.

𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒔𝒏'𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅...
𝑼𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒆𝒍𝒍.
𝑵𝒐𝒘 𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔,
𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒛𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍.

Cuando la noche es gris y fría,
te espero como esperaría
un atardecer colorido cada día.

Cuando la montaña se vuelve traicionera,
me aferro a ti como a una piedrita
que me ayudará y salvará mi vida.

Pero cuando esta ciudad se vuelve demasiado exigente,
¿serán nuestro amor el teatro
al final de cada agotador mes?

Y cuando la vida se vuelve
demasiado implacable,
¿sería este hogar el confesionario
o la iglesia al fin de cada semana horrible?

Pero cuando la música se detenga
y todo deje de ser divertido,
¿me seguirás abrazando,
manteniéndome a salvo del frío?

Y cuando el telón cae
y el escenario se oscurece,
¿te quedarás aquí conmigo
hasta que veamos el amanecer?

You hit me good where it hurts,
and you hurt me where it's good.
If you ask me to weep and burn,
I happily and willingly would.

Where your betrayal is,
that's where I long to be.

You want me bad when I want to hide,
and you hide me when it gets bad.
If you ask me to be your victim and bride,
my "yes" would be my quickest nod.

Where your anger resides,
that's where I dream to be beside.

So kiss me softly where it stings,
and kiss me hard where it kills.
If you ask me to die for your sins,
I would even do it on a cross uphill.

No lo piénses dos veces,
solo dame cien besos.
Traicióname una y otra vez,
fallame con los ojos cerrados.

Adelante, que me lleven.
Solo siéntate ahí y escucha mis gritos.

No des un paso atrás,
o te arrepentirás.
Engañarme una y otra vez,
prométeme nada más.

Adelante, que me arrastren.
Sólo mira cómo crucifican mi cuerpo.

No me hagas daño solo por diez veces,
solo hazlo por cien o millones.
Dececpcionarme una y otra vez,
miénteme y dime que todo está bien.

Adelante, que me maten.
Sólo prométeme que esperarás junto a mi sepulcro.

"I will not be apologetic.
I won't apologize for loving you the way I do
or for loving you the way you want me to.
For touching you in places I shouldn't have,
for touching you where you trail your hands.
I won't apologize for loving you until I burst,
I won't apologize even if everything hurts.
I will not be sorry that my kisses are stormy,
I will not be sorry that I'm always in a hurry.
I will not feel bad when everyone is mad,
I am glad to say that you're the best I've had.
I will not be apologetic
that I'm never decisive,
I will not be apologetic
that this love is destructive."

Is that what you're expecting me to say?
Is that what you wanted me to write?
To try to turn the night into day?
To try to turn the wrongs into rights?
Did you want to rob the sun off its rays?
Did you want the moon to lose its tides?
Were you wishing I'd surf your waves?
Were you praying I'd love you after the lies?
I hate to say it, I hate to break it to you,
I couldn't, no I won't do it, it just won't do.

What of languages, if you only need a few words to ask how a friend is today?

What of learning dialects, if you only need a single sentence to ask a vendor how much their goods are?

What use are the multiple languages you speak, when you can't use a single one of them to say what you feel?

What about the new language you taught me, if you only speak to me when I do? What good is it, if I were to become mute?

So what of languages, if you can't use them to ask me how I am today?

So what of your dialects, if I couldn't ask you how much your attention is,
or if I could even buy it?

So what use are the multiple languages we speak, if we can't use a single word, a sentence, not a single language to say what we feel?

What about the new language you taught me? Do we let it die or make new jokes?
How good it will be, if they become true?

𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒈 𝑫𝒊𝒚𝒐𝒔
𝒏𝒂 𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒍
𝒏𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒊 𝑬𝒃𝒂 𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒐.
𝑴𝒈𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒚 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏,
𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒚𝒂 𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒊,
𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒅𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒔
𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏.
𝑴𝒈𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒃𝒂 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒂,
𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒚 𝒊𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆𝒔𝒂,
𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊'𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏
𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒔𝒂 𝒃𝒖𝒉𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒊 𝑬𝒃𝒂.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒓𝒖𝒆𝒃𝒂.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒖𝒃𝒂𝒅.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒔𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒘𝒂.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒉𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒂 𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒆.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒈-𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒈.
𝑴𝒈𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒂 𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒃𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒅, 𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒐, 𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍,
𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒃𝒖𝒕𝒊 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏,
𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒃𝒐𝒏𝒈
𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒊𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏.
𝑲𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆.
𝒂𝒕 𝒌𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂 𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒂.

He cruzado los mares,
mientras cargaba mi propia cruz pesada.
He escalado los valles,
mientras cargo mis propias montañas.
Todo esto y más,
dudo que puedas hacerlo por tu cuenta.
Y es por eso que tú y yo somos diferentes.
No puedes ganar una guerra,
sin ser tu propio paraíso e isla.
No se puede saborear la victoria
sin lamer los terrenos del Gólgota.
Todo esto y más,
seguro de que no lo sabrías si no te lo dijera.
Y es por eso que tú y yo no somos iguales.
He surcado mares de fuego,
mis dientes salieron más fuertes
que cien coronas.
He cavado mi propia tumba,
y regresé más poderosa
que mil mesías.
Y por eso soy reina, una eterna.
Y por qué eres sólo un hombre, un mortal.

But times are different now.
You may still have a kingdom,
yet you're here in mine and yours is far away,
you're here looking for food, like some stray.
But the tides have turned now.
Your kind used to be stronger,
yet now I have you wrapped around my finger,
you're there looking for me, who's now bigger.
But this is a newer world now.
You are right here in my kingdom and land,
you're nowhere to be found
if not for the golden touch of my hand.
But this is my world now.
You are right here in my abundant islands
and under my crimson red skies.
You'll be all but buried down to the ground
if not for my songs, lies, jokes and fire.
You're reduced to ashes among the sand
if not for me coming right into your life.

At kung napapagal ka na sa haba ng lakbay,
nababagot sa buhay o kawalan nitong taglay,
kung hapong-hapo ka na sa alon ng lumbay,
hayaan **** hayaan kitang dumaong,
pumarito ka sa aking baybay,
pumarada ka at pumatong.
𝘠 𝘥𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘦,
𝘣𝘢𝘫𝘰 𝘮𝘪 𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘰.
𝘠𝘰 𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘳é 𝘱𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘪, 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳é 𝘵𝘶 𝘤𝘶𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰
𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘰𝘴.
Kung napapagod ka na sa tagal ng byahe,
mananatili ba o muling mag-iimpake?
Kung nalilito saan nga ba patungo,
sa dako kaya rito, o dako roon?
Hayaan **** hayaan kitang huminto.
Pumara ka, papalapit, pumarito.
𝘋𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘢 𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘢 𝘵𝘶 𝘨𝘢𝘭𝘦ó𝘯,
𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴
𝘺 𝘮𝘪 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢.
𝘚𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘻𝘢,
𝘵𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘳é 𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘴 𝘺 𝘱𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘴.

Kapag niyaya kitang lumabas ulit,
this time, I don't know, maybe sa zoo?
Kahit sumakay lang tayo sa jeep,
next time na lang sa Maynila or museum?
Sasama ka ba?
Kung sa bagay, ayaw ko pa ring magka... alam mo ba?

Pagkatapos, kakain tayo sa labas. Na naman.
Baka ikuwento ko na rin ang nakaraan,
'yun ay kung nais mo lamang malaman.
Dahil yung sa'yo, jusmiyo, alam ko na rin naman.
At ayokong maging unfair, parang kanin na walang ulam.

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

And did you say she was pretty?
And did you say that she loves you?
Baby, I don't wanna know!
And can you tell me, was it worth it?
Really... I don't wanna know.

Naaaliw ka ba sa'kin? Tawa ka kasi nang tawa.
Pero kung yayayain ulit kita, maybe sa zoo,
sana ay bigyan mo naman ako ng awa.

Ngunit kung sasabihin kong "wag mo kong iwan",
ngunit gusto mo palang mapag-isa,
ok lang sa akin. Uuwi na lang at magsi-siesta.

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

Ako, hindi pa naman.
Hindi ko pa alam. (4x)

Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or perhaps maybe baka ito na yata ang last na tula?
Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or maybe hihintayin na lang, parang iyong mga kanta?
Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or baka we're meant to be friends lang talaga?

Anyway, I'll follow you down 'til the sound
of my voice will haunt you.

Anyway, this is "Wonderwall".

Anyway,
please ***** pa rin tayo sa zoo.
Sa zoo (6x)

Estás a mi merced.
Hasta que yo lo diga,
nunca serás libre.
Yo no ruego
pero tu eres el que esta rogando.
Soy la reina de la isla del fuego,
este es mi juego y tu solo estas jugando.
Eres mi esclavo ahora.
hasta que escribo
Mi peor y último poema.

With your hair that glows golden
under the glimmering sun...
With your eyes that glistens
under summer heat's touch...
you are as soft as a cloud
on a weary traveler's mouth!

And with your skin that never burns,
but touch that makes the sun envy with red...
And with your laughter that glimmers,
the sands shall never again darken...
you are as sweet as day,
the morning sun at bay
after a night of gray!

𝘗𝘦𝘳 𝘡𝘰ë;
𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘴ó𝘯 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳
𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘭 𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘢,
𝘦𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘶 𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘴ó𝘯 𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳
𝘥𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘭𝘭𝘶𝘮 𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘢.
𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘮 𝘦𝘭 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘹 𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘱𝘦𝘭𝘭
𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘥𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘴,
𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘪 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘴ó𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘴... ♡

You expect me to curtsy,
but what I do is bend and break my bones.
You expect me to be soft-spoken,
I am raised on curses in three languages,
I have five deities and I write poetry!
You expect me to act refined,
but I am a woman dulled by violence.
And when you expect me to be dull,
I'll be as sharp as a stick up your *******.
You expect me to act sweet,
I am raised in Manila, you little *****!
You expect me to be quiet or sophisticated,
but I am a ******* Filipina, you ditz!
So no,
I cannotㅡand will not curtsy.
Nor will I bend and break either.
I will not be soft-spoken.
The last thing I will be is refined.
I will be sharp and smart as a whip.
To hell with acting sweet!
Asking a girl silenced by time to be quiet?
And a true Manileña to be sophisticated?
𝘏𝘢𝘺𝘰𝘱 𝘬𝘢! I’ll make you wish you’re dead.

Penitencia número uno:
intenta no pensar en el color de mi piel ni en mi cuerpo.

Penitencia número dos:
sigue haciendo lo que haces, finge que no quieres mis besos.

Penitencia número tres:
trata de imaginarme como si fuera la luna de tu marea.
Como si no pudieras estar sin mí por la noche.

Penitencia número cuatro:
intenta orar a Dios por mí cuando ya me haya ido para siempre.
Como si pudieras vivir sin mí en este mundo loco.

Penitencia número cinco:
Déjame ir y regálame el camino de salida
si no puedes darme el cielo.

Seis, nunca vuelvas a mi país.

Siete, nunca cierres los ojos cuando empiezo a salir con alguien.

Ocho, nunca apagues las luces e imagínate en tu cuarto.

Nueve, no me escuches cuando digo "vuelve".

Diez, ni siquiera pienses más en mí.

But what is spring breeze,
if not absence of a kiss?
If summer is hot and torrid,
spring is lacking indeed.
If spring is but a tease,
summer comes with ease.
If summer brings the true wind,
spring only hides want and need.

What of languages, if you only need a few words to tell me the truth?

What of learning dialects, if you only need a single sentence to ask the ocean to stay still for a moment?

What use are the multiple languages you speak, when you can't use a single one of them to say what you feel?

What about the new language you taught me, do I forget it and throw it to the sea? What good is it, if I'm slowly becoming mute?

So what of languages, if you only have to answer yes or no?

So what of dialects, if I couldn't even ask you to drown me in your ocean of lies, let your waves sink me, eat me alive?

So what use are the multiple languages we speak, if we can't use a single word, a sentence, not a single language to say
the multitudes of feelings we feel?

What about the new language you taught me?
Do I write about it, let it hurt and ****?
How bad will it be, if I were to die on this hill?

Kumain ka na ba?
Anong oras na.
Oras na para kumain.
Umupo ka na, 'wag mahiya.
Para sa'yo lahat itong nakahain.
Isang oras lang.
Pero busog ka na ba?
Isang oras pa.
Merienda lang, mahal.
Kahit pa hanggang almusal.
Pasensya ka na, ito lang ang hiling.
Hindi na nanaisin pa na ito'y patagalin.
Pwede na ba akong umalis?
Hindi na aasamin na lalong magkamali.
Boses mo ang siyang multo at baon ko.
Ang mga mata ko'y suki ng alaala mo.
Mali ang ito'y piliting maging tama.
Tama na siguro ang muntik na.
Plato at kubyertos ay iligpit na.
At ang basura ay aking susunugin na.
Kutsara at baso ay itago na.
At ang alaala natin ay kalimutan na.

𝑰 𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒄𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒚 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒓𝒚, 𝑰 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒅,
𝑰 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒊𝒕 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑰 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔...
𝑶𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒙
𝒐𝒇 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒄𝒆...

𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆
𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆?
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒂 𝒕𝒐 𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓
𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅, 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒉?
𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒚𝒎𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅
𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒘𝒂𝒓?
𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒖𝒎
𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒅𝒆𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒕?
𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒏
𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔?
𝑩𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆, 𝒂 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆,
𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒕?
𝑰𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒂 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅
𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓?
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒍,
𝑰 𝒑𝒓𝒂𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓.

𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅'𝒔 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒅𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒎𝒚𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒅,
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰'𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒔...
𝑶𝒉, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆
𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉...

I am the earth.
I seek the sea,
occupy the ocean,
wish for the water.
While you,
yearn for the earth,
lead the lands,
savour the soil.
I am the earth
And I wish for you.
I wish for you.
I’ve been wishing for you...

“𝑺𝒆𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆,
𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒆?”
But what does Santa know, though?
I bet on a reindeer even you don’t know.
All year, Santa was hiding in North Pole,
at the same time, I’m hiding my feelings;
what used to be a heart here is now a hole.
January is a beach, December is a cliff.
If the sands would turn to snow,
mountains from Pacific Ocean would grow.

“𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆’𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘,
𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕”
But what do I also know?
I dare the trees to be still as the wind blows.
Tropical the whole year, now I feel frozen,
when exactly is the most wonderful time?
Like a prized painting, my heart felt stolen.
My poetry is confessional, for truth is crime.
If you are made of blazing flames,
I am a forest catching fire after fire.

De enero a junio a diciembre,
no hay clima que no quiera volver.
Este año se sintió como una puta pistola,
sintió como una telenovela.
Monté a caballo, tuve accidentes,
besé cabrones, morí mil muertes.
Monté olas y quedé atrapado bajo el agua.
probé amapolas y desperté en Nicaragua.
Desde el verano hasta el invierno,
no hay mes que me haga decir “¡Lo probando!”
Este año es simplemente el peor,
Lleno de error pero también lleno de color.
Pero volveré a montar,
como el mejor vaquero y rejoneador.
Pero lo volveré a hacer,
como el mejor torero y matador.
Moriré otra vez y viviré otra y otra vez,
como la protagonista de una telenovela.
Podría hacer esto una y otra vez,
como una puta telenovela!

Crees que conoces la ley,
pero yo soy la maldita ley.
Y en realidad no me conoces,
así que en realidad no conoces la ley.
Permíteme volver a presentarme;
yo soy la rey de esta ciudad
y de estos mares.
Yo soy la maldita rey.
Debajo de mí, te arrodillarás y llorarás.
Para usurparme, no habrá manuales.
Porque no puedes acabar
con el régimen que es mi ira y mi furia.
Me cuentan en los cuentos de hadas,
estoy escrita en la leyenda.
Bebo las lágrimas de las perras,
sus gritos son mi merienda.
Crees que conoces la ley,
pero yo soy la maldita ley.
Y yo soy tu maldito rey.
Y frente a mí, te arrodillarás y orarás.

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.

𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦

There once was a goddess made of gold
Sought by many but only a few can behold

Her beauty the most coveted of all,
An object of desire that is universal

With her golden sight,
She goes deeper than what meets the eye.
With her golden smile,
She radiates her warmth like a summer sky.
With her golden hands,
She unravels tangled heart strands.

But only those
brave enough to delve deep,
and forge their path through shadows steep

Those who dare to see, the courage in her misery
The ones who can feel her soul's mystery,
Can be blessed by the Golden Goddess,
and find the treasure, rare and true—her golden heart.

Oh, what grace it is.
To be Loved by the Lady with the goLden hue.

Poetry is when you built me
only to break me down into words.
Art is when you ran to me
when you were breaking on your own.
I was a winning manuscript,
but you reduced me to bamboos and shells.
I was a renowned masterpiece,
but now I am one with my sands as I fell.
Poetry is when you wanted me
only to wash and wipe me out as I rose up.
Art is when you loved me
only to turn my back, letting you down.
Symphony is when you cried
only for me to cry harder, bow, and howl.
History is when we heard the gunshots
only did they replace our jokes and songs.
Revolution is the sound of the bombs
when I was asking for the truth for so long.

I used to be a place of worship,
my body used to be a temple
of what you used to call God;
remember when you prayed to him?
Now I am all but rubbles,
a ruin after a year of shambles.
I used to be where the choir sings,
I used to be the center, facing the town hall
of the place you used to control and reign;
remember how cold it feels like every fall?
Now in silence I will succumb,
I’d bury myself for an eternity of hush.
Now in secrets I am downed and numb,
I’d drown myself in waves of delayed rush.

Ang letrang matapang.
Ang unang letra ng mga tao
na pinakamatatapang daw.
Ang unang letra ng salitang "laban",
ng "laot"
ng "lami"
ng "laya",
libro.
libertad.
lagrima.
Otra vez, libertad.
La palabra, "La"
La Union.
La Reina.
LA MANILEÑA.
La poeta.
La escritora maxima.
Lakambini.
Learning.
Laughing.
Loving.
Living.
Life.
Live­. Laugh. Love.

You know it, and you know it well.
Do I really have to say it? Hell.
I'll get straight to the point;
I am the obvious choice.
You can’t shake me, I’m your joint;
before you sleep, I’m that little voice.
Do you really have others anyway?
And if you do, are there really
better options, by the way?
Are there any other poems on your desk?
And if there are, are they actually
sent and written by the best?
So do I really have to say it?
You already know it.
No matter the language,
the truth simply drips from your lips.
You can’t escape me, I’m your missing rib;
before you go, kiss me as you pull my hips.
I’m the wave that rips.
I’m the edge of the cliff.
I’m the winning manuscript.
You know it, and you know it well.

They say you must suffer
before you become free
You must be a prisoner
before you can flee

But I beg to differ...
Before you came I didn't know glee.
I was held captive by land and earth
before I became as wild as the sea

And you wouldn't agree either...
Before me, you've never known grace.
You were trapped by the fear of danger
until you're blessed by the sight of my face

You could try but you won't find better...
After me, everyone else is just a phase.
I was chained by the fear of another lover
but you blessed me with hope I can't erase

Now we are swinging like olive branches,
dancing and swaying like palm trees,
I don't want to take any chances
but with you I'd take a thousand risks.

Now we are singing like lovebirds
flying across a meadow in a summer light,
I don't want to fall in love again
but for you I'd jump headfirst and deep dive.

From La Union to Siargao,
our waves are one and shared.
From Baler to Biarritz,
there are no swells we'll miss.
From Aurora to Asturias,
there are no days without sun and sand.
From Catalunya to Catanduanes,
the nights are made of parties and rest.
From hanging bridge to the sunset bridge,
how wonderful it is to share this friendship.
From my east to your east,
may we be each other’s vacation and ease.
From your west to my best,
may you find me again, I’ll be waiting here.

Ash to ashes,
laughters to kisses.
Dust to dust,
returning is a must.

I’m a simple girl;
I see the sun shines over the sea, I see God.
I see the sunrise, I see God.
I see the sea over the mountains, I see God.
I see the sunset, I see God.
I step foot on the island, I see God.
I see a friend’s smile, I see God.
I touch the sand, I see God.
I make a stranger laugh, I see God.
I make a new friend, I see God.
I see flowers, I see God.
I found you, I saw God.
I saw you, I saw God.

𝑺𝒂 𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒎𝒂, 𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒌, 𝒏𝒈 𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒖 𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒐,
𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒌𝒐...

Maybe our definition of friends differ.
Maybe its meaning changes
from the far east, to the wild west.
Maybe yours are parties and music fests,
while mine means safe space and rest.
Maybe your friends are just good
for fun and vacation,
while my friendship weathers
bad, hell, and even oblivion.

𝑫𝒊𝒐𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒐, 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒔
𝒅𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒐𝒏.
𝑷𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒆 𝒅𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆 𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓 𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒈𝒐.
𝑯𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒆𝒍, 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒎𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒐𝒏,
𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝑻𝒊,
𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒂 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒔.
𝑵𝒐 𝒆𝒍, 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒂, 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒂 𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒅𝒊𝒐𝒔𝒂.

Maybe how we understand friendship
is rather different, indeed.
Maybe you see it as a comical joke,
while I see it as intimate poetry.
Maybe you hear it like another song,
while I listen to it like symphony.
Maybe you think it’s something to be bent,
I’m treating it like something heaven-sent.
Maybe you’re really set on being friends,
I’m already falling down a cliff with no end.

𝑴𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒆, 𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝑻𝒖 𝒂𝒚𝒖𝒅𝒂,
𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒂, 𝒅𝒆𝒋𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒓 𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒃𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒐𝒔,
𝒏𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔 𝒚 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒓, 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒐 𝒍𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒓.
𝒀 𝒂 𝒔𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒋𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒔.
𝑫𝒆𝒋𝒂𝒓 𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒋𝒐𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏
𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒋𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒅𝒐.
𝑵𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐 𝑺𝒂𝒍𝒗𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓 𝑱𝒆𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒐
𝒔𝒖𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒐 𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒔𝒐𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒔.
𝑬𝒏 𝒔𝒖 𝒏𝒐𝒎𝒃𝒓𝒆, 𝑫𝒊𝒐𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒐, 𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒅𝒂𝒅.
𝑸𝒖𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂 𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒅.

Basbasan niyo po ang aming pagkakaibigan.
Iwaksi niyo po ito sa kapahamakan,
nawa’y wag sanang mauwi sa pag-iibigan,
lalong lalo na sa sakitan at iyakan.

Siya nawa.

Amen.

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
For all of the books I’ve read, I thank you.
And for all of the magazines I’ve enjoyed, too.
My first notes and love letters, you are the recipient.
Written all for you, to tell you that you’re heaven-sent.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
I learned my ABC’s because of you.
All of my first words were taught by you, too.
I would learn more languages for you, create more art,
Just so I could tell you over and over; “I love you to my heart”
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Because of you, my first colors were not shades of blue.
Thanks to you, I am chasing after my dreams, both old and new.
My books are the jewels in your crown.
My poetry is your kingdom come.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
You were there when I first picked up a pencil,
you are still here as you open this poem with a seal.
You are the queen of my letters and poems,
you are the angel of my hopes and dreams.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

And this is why I’m not an actress.
I enjoy the behind-the-scenes, all their mess.
But it was never my forte to pretend.
This is why I’m a writer.
I create chaos and horrors only on paper.
Between play and pretend, I pick the former.
And maybe this is why I’m not popular.
I simply love my privacy and personal cellar.
Be in the dark, adore the closed doors.
This is why I’m only a poet.
If I should fit your mould, God forbid.
And this is why I wish to remain unknown.
If I must kneel before you, I’d just go home.
And this is precisely why I’m not an actress.
I’m already in so much burden and stress.
I’m a poet, for christ’s sake!
Oh, I could also be fake!
Ah, but I’d rather eat my popcorn,
sit within my pretty little bubble,
while honing my tiny horns,
causing no silly troubles.

Minsan may maririnig kang
mga tunog o hiyaw,
na mapapatanong ka;
“pusa ba ‘yon o bata?”
Minsan may makikita kang
dalawang taong magkasama,
na magtataka ka;
“mag-ama ba ‘yon o mag-jowa?”
At kung minsan din may madarama kang
mapapatigil ka na lang
at mapapatulala sa tuwina;
“pag-ibig na ba ‘to o pagkakaibigan lang?”

Ngunit sa lahat ng mga tanong na ito,
sa ingay ng mga tunog,
sa dilim ng pagtataka,
sa gitna ng tahimik na mga hiyaw,
sa liwanag ng pagtulala,
sa nakakabinging nadarama...
Ano bang pagkakaiba?
ano bang pagkakaiba?
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay mapapakinggan.
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay maaaring makita.
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay mararamdaman.
Ano nga bang pagkakaiba?

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒔𝒆ñ𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔, 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒐,
𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏 𝒌𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒔,
𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒂, 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒔, 𝒌𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒔,
𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊 𝒌𝒐 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒕.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒓𝒆, 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒐,
𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒏 𝒌𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒂,
𝒊𝒚𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒌𝒐'𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏, 𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒂 𝒇𝒖𝒆𝒓𝒛𝒂.
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒐.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒊 𝒑𝒖𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐, 𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒋𝒐𝒔 𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔
𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒚 𝒂 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒓.
𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒐 𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒏
𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒂 𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈.
𝑮𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒓𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒂 𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒐.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒓𝒆, 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒐,
𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒊𝒏 𝒌𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒔,
𝒊𝒚𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒍 𝒌𝒂𝒚𝒐 𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒚 𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒏.
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒍𝒐 𝒎á𝒔 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆,
𝒆𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒐.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒑𝒐𝒓 𝒎𝒊𝒔 𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒋𝒐𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒔
𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒗𝒐𝒔 𝒎á𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒐𝒔 𝒒𝒖𝒆 𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒚 𝒂 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒓.
𝑷𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏 𝒏𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒐 𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒊𝒚𝒐𝒔 𝒂𝒎𝒂
𝒔𝒂 𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒈𝒂 𝒔𝒂𝒍𝒂 𝒂𝒕 𝒔𝒂 𝒈𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒑𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈.
𝑮𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒂𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒔𝒂'𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒏.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒊 𝒂𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒂 𝒊𝒈𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒂,
𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒌𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒚 𝒌𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒔,
𝒊𝒚𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒚 𝒅𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒍 𝒂𝒌𝒐'𝒚 𝒏𝒂𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏, ¡𝒇𝒖𝒊 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒛𝒂𝒅𝒂!
𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒐.
𝒀𝒂 𝒏𝒐 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒊ó𝒏.

𝑷𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆, 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏, 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒚𝒂𝒏 𝒏𝒊𝒚𝒐 𝒂𝒌𝒐...
𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒌𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊 𝒌𝒐 𝒏𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒑𝒂 𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈
𝑷𝒂𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒍𝒐𝒕, 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒐, 𝒑𝒂𝒈𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒈...
𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒌𝒊 𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒏𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒔 𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔...
𝑲𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒌𝒐 𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒔 𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒂,
𝒍𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒔, 𝒌𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒔...
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒏, 𝒔𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒓𝒚𝒐, 𝒔𝒂 𝒃𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒌𝒂𝒔.
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒔𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒂𝒏, 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒃𝒖𝒌𝒂𝒔𝒂𝒏,
𝒄𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒂𝒏, 𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒂𝒏...

"Love waits, lust rushes",
some idiot on Instagram preaches.
Or Idstagram, if you will.
I call him one, but it's the truth
he brews, spews and spill.
He's an idiot for he fell in love indeed.
"Find your missing rib, not another *****",
another proclaimsㅡa poet this time around.
That would be me, only if you want.
I meant the idiot poet or your missing rib.
You can call me a fool, for it's the truth
I keep, speak and ****.
A friend who lies or a lover who stays still.
I could be both, if you wish.
Choice is not mine, not this time.

And you can't drown a woman who was raised by the ocean
and nourished by the islands.
You can't sink a ship and bring it to its knees.
But you can't soak a girl who grew up in floods of garbage
and emerged from bountiful farms.
You can't splash the rain and wet the storms.
You can't bring down a woman from mud,
with hands smeared by dirt from every dead God.
You can't bury an angel you tried to give hell,
with a body from heaven sent as your help.
You can't freeze a ***** whose heart is ice,
you should be ashamed of your foolish lies.
You can't burn a queen that's made of fire,
but you'll regret trying for the rest of your life.

(𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢)

May bakas ng relihiyon sa bawat kalsadang nilakaran mo. Dito sa siyudad kung saan tila naghahari ang diablo, mga dinaanan mo ang sandigan, mga pinuntahan mo ang paniniwalaan, aawitan, papupurian.

Dito, naglakad kang matapang. Nag-lamyerda kang para bang hindi ka baguhan at dayuhan. Walang pag-iingat, o walang pag-aatubili. Na parang naglalakad ka rin sa pananampalataya sa ating Diyos.

Tanong at dalangin ko lagi’t lagi: mararating ba natin ang oras? O ang hanggahan? (o kung may hanggahan nga ba ang oras sa tuwing magkasama tayo? Hindi ko alam, kung may konsepto ng oras sa langit.) Umuwi ka bang nakadiskubre ng buntalang may posibilidad ang pag-iral? Ngunit hindi mo pa ito pinapangalanan, hindi mo pa inaari.

At hindi natapos ang pagiging sagrado ng mga espasyo noong nakaalis ka na. Sa pagitan ng dagat Pasipiko at Mediteranyo, ang panalangin ko ay makakarating sa’yo, mga dasal ko’y hahalik sa katawan mo, dadapo sa silid **** hindi ko pa nararating, at dito, kasama kita, kahit hindi kita kasama.

1899
It's all over now.
How many more bells
do you need to hear?
It’s over.
How many more winters
do you need to miss?
It's done.
How many more gunshots
do you want me to fire and ring?
Just surrender now...
It's all been said and done.
All the blood have dried and ran.
Just come out now...
Rather than needing it,
don't you miss the sunshine?
Just go, you can't stay locked forever...
Rather than buying more time,
don't you need less wine?
Just open the door...
march straight across Manila,
to the pacific, to Barcelona and Cadiz,
until you’re back home.
Believe me, they'll welcome you like a hero,
sing praises of your name forevermore.
You'll see, I'll be good to you.
History will remember you like a folklore.
And I won't ever be like you.
I'll be better than you'll ever be, you'll see.
You’ll see how I’ll slip my hands with ease.
How I'll let you go in silence and peace.
I'll even see you out to the sea, you'll see.
And that will be my revenge.
My kindness and silence will hurt you,
I’ll play nice, it will feel like cuts and slice.
And that is no longer my problem.
My white flag waving over your head
will be the subject of your nightmares.
And that is no longer my burden.