A bit of a journey,
but it’s for your safety.
Pay a drop of bravery,
but you will be rewarded a sea of security.
Just a bit of a climb,
nothing could touch you, not one crime.
Just a little hike,
and nothing can hurt you, not even the night.
I might seem unlikely,
but I will be your safe space,
one where you can sleep in soundly tonight.
I know you’re scared,
but my love can be your refuge,
a place where you can start a brand new day.
And I know we’re both full of doubts,
but we can be each other’s fortress,
we can build our new kingdom or town.

I know being with me is not easy,
actually quite the contrary;
I am treacherous, I am messy.
I have crazy trees and crazier winds.
I know staying with me won't be fun,
actually it may not even be an option;
But you’re still welcome, even for a vacation.
My rain comforts, I soothe with my monsoon.

I know you may not know of my waves,
and you might've, but would you be brave?
Are you willing to trade your better days?
Do you dare write with your board and body,
then rest under my shades or caves?

I know you might not have heard of my name,
but touch me and you will never be the same.
Will you dive for my pearls without shame?
Do you dare to sink and swim,
would you play this game?

When I am out and about with my friends,
I am the best lover.
When I am alone and sitting in the dark,
I try to be a stardust.
Whenever I feel happy and content,
I am a little girl.
Whenever I feel down and worried,
I am an old woman.
Whenever I want something,
I am a *****.
Whenever something’s after me,
I am a witch.
Whenever I am free and light,
I am actually sad inside.
Whenever I look frail and in fright,
I actually need someone by my side.
When I am walking at night in the city,
I am guarded.
When I am in the confines of my room,
I am discarded.
When I am sitting in a cafe,
I am the sugar that I didn’t ask for.
When I am stirring my chocolate at home,
I am the salt I mistakenly sprinkled over.
Because I have always been alone,
I am a cold mountain.
But when I felt your touch,
I am but a flower.
Because all I heard are my own cries,
I am a sharp, hot rock.
But when I heard the sound of your voice,
I am but tiny petals under the sun.

Imagine having me stretched, throbbing,
a touch that could soothe and ****.
Yes, it both can.
Your greatest ****.
You simply won’t be able to imagine
just how good it would feel.
No, you just can’t.
Good ******* luck...

I want the cliche romance.
I want all the cheesy stuff.
Yeah I want some flowers.
And yeah I want to call you.
I want to write you more letters.
I want to play tag and be the 'it'.
I want my poems to wage and weather.
I want heart-shaped ****.
I want to ask you to come over.
I want to talk more and more.
I want to catch up.
I want to know you again.
I want to cook us dinner.
I want us to leave laughters at every corner.
I want us to move furniture.
I want us to levitate to somewhere higher.
Ah, I want us.
I want to break the fixtures.
I want you to show me how good it can get.
I want you to teach me all the ways to get a woman wet.
I want your heavy breaths.
I want you covered in sweat.
I want to get back at the noises of my neighbors.
I want them to hear my moans and screams of pleasure.
I want them more annoyed than ever, even angered.
I want them to report me to the property manager.
Oh God, how I want you.
I want us to touch the sky, taste heaven together.
I want to kneel, in prayer.
I want to pray better.
I want to play my cards like I have never.
I want to play house forever.

Some things you just can’t explain.
Some magic you don’t dare find reason beneath.
Some mysteries you don’t get to solve.
Some metaphors you don't read meaning behind.
Some circumstances you don’t find logic in.
Some tickets you don’t scratch but you win.
Why are flights to a popular island destination cheaper over the holidays?
Why are flights back home more expensive?
Why is daydrinking the norm on an island?
Why are mangoes as sweet as summer there in December?
Why did I meet you when I almost never have?
Why did we brush shoulders only to never see each other again?
Some circumstances.
Some mysteries.
Some magic.
Some things you just can’t explain.

You don't need to travel all over the world
to know that there are many Gods.
Plenty of teachings, multitude of words,
from west to east to your nest and back.
Hundreds of chants and hours of prayers,
written in ink of blood or black.

And I don't need to travel all over the world
to know that you were made by the same God
who created the vast oceans,
who sculpted the mountains,
who made the lightning,
who moulded the earth.

And I don't need to practice every religion,
learn the ways of all man,
to know that you are already my answered prayer,
to know that you are the one that I want,
to know that you are the man I would kneel before,
and pray as if your kiss is my final salvation.

And you don't need to pray anymore from now on,
learn the ways of no other unworthy man,
for you to know that my name is the only prayer,
to know the truth that I am the one you want,
to know that it's me you would sail the deadly seas, fight crusades for,
and call my name like a prayer, as if my touch is your new religion.

If you were to become sand,
I would not be just some hands.
Not even another mortal homeland.
I will become time, I will weather and stand.
But if you were to become an island,
I would not be just some beach or sands.
Not even a firefly or a wasp that lands.
I will become a tree that withstands.
Or if you will be the time, I will be a tree.
Together in our tiny little island,
we will be gleaming and free,
we will be holding hands.

Lemme start with the letter L for
Ley/Lex

A for Actus reus;
Alibi, Alter ego,
AND my favorite; Ad nauseam

Nemo debet esse judex in propria causa or
Nemo judex in causa sua or
Nemo judex in sua causa

Contra,
consensus,
𝗖𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗶𝗮 𝗲𝘅 𝘀𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗮𝘁.

E for Ex post facto.
Estoppel!
Ex gratia...

Quid pro quo, thanks for the comedy gold.
Amicus curiae, you have no friend to spare.
Res ipsa loquitur, go run and hide
like the ***** that you are...

***** de jure...

Minsan, may kaibigang nagsabi sa akin,
“Mas mabuti talaga ‘pag
nilalabanan ang sakit.”
Taon ang lumipas, sinabi rin ng kaibigan,
“Minsan mas mabuti na lang
pag nilalabanan ang pagmamahal.”
Hindi niya sinambit, hindi ng kanyang labi,
ngunit alam ko rin naman ang kanyang ibig.
Hindi ito pangangamba o pag-aatubili,
sadyang kanyang dibdib ay hindi ko kabig.
Bakit tila ganito ngayon ang radyo?
Walang awit, tanging tinig.
Bakit iba yata ang ihip at pihit nito?
Walang tugtog, ngunit ang sambit;
“Mabuti na rin pala
na hindi ko nakita ang iyong mukha.”
Walang kulog, ngunit may awit;
“Maigi na rin yata na ako na
ang bagong paksa ng luksa.”

Look, I'm not even bothered.
I'm not bothered that you're riding
another woman's bed as if they're waves,
and well, your body is the board.
I'm not bothered that you're exchanging
****** fluids all night long,
like when seawater mixes with your sweat
from catching waves all afternoon.
I'm not bothered.
Now listen, I'm not at all bothered.
I'm not bothered that you're dancing,
like her body is a wave you're surfing,
in some bar whose name I can't pronounce,
or I could, but you'll find it funny.
I'm not bothered that you're all over her,
moving it like you wanna get barreled in,
like she is just your dream surf trip
and that I just feel like a pool... or a fool,
I might be crying, but it's sunny.
But I'm not bothered.
Not at all.
But
I'm bothered...
I'm actually, really, totally bothered
by the jokes you'll share,
by the new jokes you'll make,
the ones I can't hear,
over the sound of the waves.
I'm bothered that you're not near,
'cause lately, you're all I ever crave.
I'm bothered...
by the sound of your laughters together,
or does it sound different in winter?
I'm bothered that she knows
how your laugh sounds in every season
and how your smile looks all year long.
Now I'm bothered.
I'm absolutely hot and bothered.

I have crossed seas,
treaded rocks and island.
To find the truth I seek,
and that in your eyes I found.
The truth they so speak,
is it the effect or the cause?
The truth they so praise,
all in faith and love and your loss.
The truth you deny to preach,
are you afraid I will be lost?
The truth you refuse to grace,
turned to hate and war and my triumph.
I have stepped on all of sands,
tripped on all kinds of rocks.
As petrified as wood are my hands,
you'll never touch nor wrap on your ****.
As fortified as the cold mountain is my heart,
you never broke it, not even set it ablaze.
While you trip on your bed like it's hard,
you'll never find me there because it's late.

Am I naughty or am I nice?
An angel or a *****?
Will I be your victory or vice?
A cherub or a siren?
Am I a dream come true or the color blue?
Am I a gift or a piece of wood adrift?
And if I make a wish, would it be for you?
Would I be the fundamental keys, like Ctrl+Shift?
And if I set the tone, will you follow through?
Would I be a letter you'll burn or a masterpiece you'll keep?
And if we see this through, to whom do we say thanks to?

When I say my words are powerful,
I mean it could both be
for the worse or for better.
When I say my words are heavy,
I meant it for hurting, rolling punches
or for lifting and helping hands.
When I say my words could ****, I mean it.
No wordplays or metaphors needed.
If I say my words feels like kiss, I mean it.
I know how to wield them in battlefield,
I know how to write with them for poetry.
So when I say my words are powerful,
I mean it could both be
for the worst or for the best.
So for you my darling lover,
or prospective enemy,
what’s it gonna be?
So here’s to you, my chosen, my love,
or potential slave and loyal servant,
who do you want to be for me?

I'm never one to feel the right things,
to feel what I should be feeling
or what they say I should feel.
I'm never one to say the proper words,
to say what I should to cut the cords
or what they say I should pray to the Lord.
But why do I feel like I'm not welcome here?
Why do I feel like a stranger since I'm near?
I'm not one to do what a lady should do,
to do things for what and act to please who
or go wherever they want her to go to.
I'm never one to mindlessly nod and obey,
to follow the mild current and go against bay
or have a routine like I do from night to day.
But why do I feel like doing what they say?
Why do I feel like I need to go anyway?

I’m not in school anymore
No longer a girl either.
So this is not some schoolgirl crush.
And I don’t need more soul lessons.
And I am not one to do crushes.
In fact, I want soul-crushing romance.
And I think this is it.
Except it’s not.
Not a romance.
But it’s soul-crushing.
But if I must be,
I will be a student.
If I really have to,
I will learn.
I will write.
I will read.
Again
and again.

How softly you unearthed this heart,
dusted off the sand from my hands...
How tenderly you knew exactly what to do,
take me away off the west to my rescue...
How you paced my tomb that burns,
dug deep enough skin from the earth...
How painstakingly you wrapped me warm,
blanketed me from pain of eternity's harm...
It seems like you have seen me beyond
these shards and sands of time.
It feels as though I am a secret you kept
since the antiquities of light.
It seems like you have touched me before
the very invention of the word skin.
It feels as though you have built me long ago
brick by brick, in your buried cities within.

I hate to be the one to break it to you,
right on the first day of the year anew,
but here’s the breaking news:
I am the one for you.

Yet the ball is no longer in my court.
This is not a game, but love burns and hurts.
Love is not a war, but a kingdom has a court.
And every king needs his queen of hearts.

And if I am the one, you would see my heart is not easily won.
You can try, but you can’t find another of my kind among the ton.
And if you even dare, you would come closer and get out of your phone.
You can fly, sway, cry, swing, but you can’t avoid me, I’m your new bone.

And if you wanna play, you’d win a prize you’ve never had before.
Yes you’d feel every emotion you’ve never known, except bored.
And if you wanna fight, you’d bring a castle facing the sea, along the shores.
But no, the ball is no longer in my court,
and I am sure as day, that’s for sure.

El pelo de tu funda de almohada.
Tu suelo.
El pelo de tu suelo.
Por supuesto que pienso en ti,
y por supuesto ya lo hicimos,
solo que en mi cabeza...
Ahora que estás al otro lado del oceano Pacifico,
puedo sentirte mas cerca.

El polvo de mi tocadiscos.
Mi cuello.
El polvo de mi cuello.
Por supuesto que son solo pensamientos,
y por supuesto que es fugaz,
y pronto terminará.
Con solo el oceano más grande del mundo separándonos,
finalmente puedo flotar.

Find me if you dare, then leave me.
Leave me how you found me, I dare you.
Mind you, I do not care, believe me.
Care for me but I won’t mind, mind you.
Take this skin, score, and sear it,
it’s yours for burning and breaking.
Take these eyes, watch how they ablaze,
stare at them as you would a sandstorm.
Take this body, bring and burn it,
or take it as a trophy to new civilizations.
Take these hands, lock and never lose them,
clasp them shut so they may never be lethal.
Take this heart, see how it resurrects,
look how you made it golden and eternal.

Coffee for fuel, wine for relaxation.
Beer for party, water for hydration.
Green tea? I fancy.
*****? One for a kiss.
My words shoot when provoked,
my poems heal when deserved.
My quill could ****,
my sword are my words.
My mouth could bring drought,
spit that could send you down to pits.
Liquid is for assets, solid for *******.
Gas is for air, gas is also for fuel.
Come back here, why fear a little duel?

Kung ang kapayapaa’y nasa hilaga
at ang sigalot ay nasa timog,
ngunit ikaw ay nasa silangan
at ako nama’y nasa kanluran,
pipiliin kong tumúngo sa hilaga.
Ngunit kung ang puso ko’y nasa karagatan,
at ang iyong kamay ay nasusunog naman,
kung ang aking mga liham ay maging abo
at ang aking mga tula’y itapon sa súpot,
upang mahawakan ang iyong kamay,
handa akong masunog.

I already know the answer.
So what if I have been thinking about you still? What about it?
What if I have been imagining how good your kiss must feel? What of it?
So what if I have been dreaming about what could have been? What is it to you?
What if you were here right now because you want to tell me something? What is it?
I know the answer.
I know it as I would know my own letters.

So what if I have been thinking about your touch, but this time, in places nobody knows where? Oh well, now neither do you.
So what?
So what if I have been imagining doing things with you, sort of things that you can now only imagine and think about too?
Now what?
So what if I am still here, writing poems?
So what if I am hiding, like Texas hold ‘em?
But I understand.
Like I do the lines on the back of my hand.

And so what if I have been daydreaming of sitting on a field on a sunny day with you?
So what if I’m imagining you taking my sundress off, like tearing petals down?
What about it?
So what if I imagine us having cute picnics and then making a mess of the picnic mat every single time, like it’s a routine?
So what?
So what if I think about these kind of things when you clearly don’t want them or don’t want anything at all, what pain it brings!
So what is it to you?!
Well, no problem, I heard.
Loud and clear as the chirps of the birds.

My dearest love,
my tree is ever abundant...

But I will never let you fall.
Rewriting an age-old story,
in fact, I’ll take the fall... I’d even crawl.
And by me, you’ll never be betrayed.
Carving a new rib from my body,
our story won't be one of gray and strays.

I’ll take the fall.
You’ll never be blue.
God can rue me and curse me!

But I will never fail you.
Come closer, take a bite,
you’ll see heaven is true.
And no, you will 𝘯𝘰𝘵 certainly die.
For God may be absolute, yet he lies;
my love for you will always be kind.

For all eternity I will crawl.
You’ll never be hungry with all my fruits.
History, make a villain and fool out of me!

My dearest love,
my tree is ever abundant.
“𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥”,
then call me God of the blind.

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.

We observe. We listen. We watch.
If we, too, will be observed back.
We crucify. We criticize. We ostracize.
Before we, too, will be crucified.
And we read each other
as if our faces are some pages.
And we judge each other
as if our phases are just cases.
But people are not books.
We cannot read each other,
our stories changes and hooks
with every passing hinge and look.
I’d rather we write of each other
as if we are all authors of no horrors.
I’d rather we pen one another,
as if everyone is their own poet and writers.
Because people are poems.
Because we are poetry in flesh.
Because people are problems.
And people are also the solutions.

I handpicked you,
with these hands that clawed their way out
of death and then back to your inner city.
More carefully than finding shells
on a beach, on an island down south.

I handpicked you,
with these hands that engraved stones
and carved runes from the walls.
More desperately than ancient men learning
how to write and draw for the first time.

I handpicked you,
with these hands that shook with the devil
and in the same manner, greeted saints with.
More intentionally than touching artifacts
in a museum, within a country of colonizers.

I handpicked you,
with these hands that wrote law, poems,
and stabbed enemies lurking in the tombs.
More defiantly than a monster experiencing
how it feels to be betrayed for the last time.

𝘚𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘢-𝘪,
My chosen,
you have no choice but to give in.
My love,
it is now my heart that you live in.
My destiny,
it is my body that you will be buried in.

Liquid to lips, waffles to wine,
every day feels like slowed down time.
Kisses that ****, breakfasts like bomb,
with every minute, I grow even more numb.
Winter may lie, summer far,
every breath is a dagger to my heart.
The heat may cry, cold so sore,
every step is a crash on the shore.
Before my hair grows longer,
count them.
Before my sword tattoos fade,
disarm them.
Before I grow weary in waiting,
caress me.
Before I get older and fading,
help me.
Before I lock myself again,
find me.
Before I let my heart go,
love me.

A Manileña doesn’t mince her words.
She doesn’t sweeten up the bitter truth.
A Filipina’s words strike like a sword.
She would get down and ***** to the roots.
She could sing like an angel, easily join a heavenly choir.
But she could curse the devil, make him quiver and cry.
She could recite poems and prayers,
think of you during novena and death alike.
But she could also write your eulogy,
hold a funeral for you while you’re still alive.

My words shoot when provoked,
my poems heal when deserved.
My quill could ****,
my sword are my words.
My mouth could bring drought,
spit that could send you down to pits.

And even when I hate,
it’s out of care and love.
I know I’ll never lose a war.
And when I don’t feel the best,
I simply breathe, read, and take a rest.
And I write poetry, you can never **** or defeat me.

It’s up to youㅡwhat’s it gonna be?
You write and decide, should I heal or ****?

I’m running out of metaphors.
In that sense, ‘metaphors’ is a metaphor
for your time, not mine.
And you’re running out of good years.
In that sense, ‘good years’ is a metaphor
for your options, also not mine.
I wanted to be the one to make you happy,
I wanted you to be the subject of my poetry.
But what else can a woman like me do?
I am a little girl in front of a man like you.
What gift do you get a guy
who seem to have it all?
Where do you take a man
who’s been everywhere?
What song can you sing
to someone who’s heard every sound?
What else can you give
to somebody who’s done it all?
What poem can I write for you,
that will make you want to choose me?
And what can you do to impress
a person who’s been with everyone?

Silence.
Nowhere.
Static.
Nothing.
Blank page.
Radio silence.

If the capital is at siege and war
oh, surely you are the belle and star,
if the city cries of cannons,
of course, you hum the birdsongs!
If peace seems to be by miles
it’s outshined by your smile,
if deception is paid by coins,
billions would be your toys!
And if the pain of betrayal speaks,
oh dear, I would be praying for weeks,
if curses should be written on paper,
your silence shall then be the traitor!
But if being the angel is key,
but kissing the devil is the way to be,
let me be the exit door for your likes,
I shall be the hell that melts your lies!

Long story short,
I walked alone within the walls of fort.
He’s not mine, so I'm not his valentine.
My heart may be his, but his lips I won't kiss.
I might be in love, but I'll still hit the club.
Long story yet also short,
as I’ve already cut the cord.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
no need to guess and find any clue.
I cried alone within our favorite church.
He’s not my valentine, he ran out of time.
My letters have him, my lights are now dim.
I have another’s flowers, I'll remain a lover.
Long story short, unlike those letters,
without each other we'll be much better.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
image of my smeared lipstick, it’s not by you.

¿Fue culpa tuya o fue culpa mía?
¿Soy el que lo encendió?
Creo que simplemente me rendiré
y me incriminaré.
¿Pero fuiste tú quien lo empezó?
Creo que simplemente cantaré
y me encerraré.
Ahora no importa quién empezó qué,
lo que importa es quién lo termina y cuándo.
Pero ahora no importa cómo termine,
ya estoy quemado por el puta cortocircuito.
Pero, sabes que? Seguro que lo sabes.
Que por ti volvería a electrocutarme.
Por ti lo haría todo una y otra vez.
Así que acércate más, más cerca que nunca,
ven, y tócame, devórame.
¿Será mi culpa o tu culpa?

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.

Que caliente está el sol ahora más que nunca,
ven a sentirlo en tu piel, siente también el mar...
Quizás puedas encontrarme en otra isla.
Ven...
Que más fresco está el mar ahora desde el año pasado,
sigo olvidando el color de tus ojos, y qué dolor...
Encontrarás el verano entre mis labios.
Verme...
Cómo las calles cantan tu nombre,
cómo te llaman, queriendo encontrar significado entre...
Quizás puedas decirme su significado y origen.
Venir...
Cómo estos caminos escriben poemas en tu gloria,
pero el poste de luz pregunta: "Cuántos mañanas más?"
Verás el sol dorado en mi cara.
Ven a verme...
Y cómo mi piel se calienta aún más mientras te espero,
las palabras se escapan, mi pluma se me resbala de la mano.
Ven pa' ca...
Y cómo se me eriza el pelo, también esperando tu tacto.
Por fin mi cuerpo está en armonía, pero mi corazón está perdido.
Vente para ca...
Pero si finalmente decides romperme la piel, el cuerpo y el corazón,
aún así te sonreiré y te diré: "buena suerte, cariño."

(𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗥𝗼𝗮𝗻)


☎️
𝘏𝘪 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘮, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰,
𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 ♡

Not a crush, we’re not in high school, darling
This rush, I never saw it coming
Don’t talk, I’ll write another line
'Cause thinking about you feels like a **** crime.
I’d love if you knew you are why I write,
more often than the times I even drink wine.
My book’s a flop, but here’s another one.
And who knows who you’re with again tonight?

Touch me baby, feel the heat on my skin,
come take me out of this hell that I’m in.
I know you want it, baby come and take it,
oh I’ve never tried it, doing it on some nice beach.

Like a mighty bird being clipped off its wings,
my old songs, I can no longer sing,
but you can help me,
make me fly and soar free...
Oh, I never thought I’d be
drowning In El Nido

Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)
Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)

I see how things are really gonna be
We’re too far to spin this to reality
Distance, both in body and mind,
I will stay entrapped in this fantasy.
But I can’t
help but think
what if we just try it?
In Palawan, our lips will be one.
One kiss away from your best mistake.

Touch me baby, you’re running out of time
I’m gonna snap and I will lose my mind!
Do you want it? I need to hear you say it.
Oh I’m losing my breath, drowning in El Nido!

Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)
Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)

Sunsets and sailboats
I kept your name like an oath
If you don’t try, then it’s your loss
One kiss away from your best mistake!

Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)
Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)

Won’t you ******* come here?
Kiss me, touch me, save me? (drowning in El Nido)
But I want all of it now! (drowning in El Nido)
Oh, yeah, oh (drowning in El Nido)
Drowning in El Nido...

You’re right.
I do not take rejection well.
For I take rejection sea.
I float and swim in it until I’m free.
I dive in it until I feel opposite of glee.
You’re correct.
I do not take “no” graciously.
For instead of grace, I become the sea.
I slap the shore until my blue turns green.
I blow my waves into squares as I scream.
That’s right.
When I lose, I never use it as a noose.
Instead I sizzle and heat up like a fuse,
smile like a muse, call ******* on truce,
win and govern all your lands like Zeus.
That’s correct.
When I’m denied, I show that I can bite.
I show teeth and they sparkle bright,
tell them I am not as frail as a kite,
I am the moon on a star-free sky at night.

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.

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.

Is it because it’s summer?
I can’t tell with the way I shiver.
How are you back home?
I can’t imagine how it’s like in your room.
“How many more tomorrow’s?”
I sing a happy song with much sorrow.
“If so, when?”
I sigh as if it’s the world’s end.
Is it because it’s summer?
I can’t tell if you are much colder.
Or is my heart just locked in a freezer?
Can you tell? Tell that I’m a good kisser?
Just another one of my jokes,
I might drink until I’m broke.
Like just another friend you met,
I might crash and break my good leg.
Is it because it’s summer?
You’re cold as ice, is this how you care?

Behold this box in which I carry my secrets.
If I ask you, would you be able to keep it?
Behold this case in which I kept my youth.
If I answer this poem, will it make the due?
Here lies all that there is or ever was...
If I would try to, could I make it last?
Here comes all that will come or will be...
If I fight for you, would I end up bruised?
Behold this ring which I’ll kiss with fists.
If I duel with time, could you give me a kiss?
Behold this arena in which I will be boxed.
I will brawl with pain, leave me knocked.

No.
Stop, darling.
I don’t want love confessions in the rain.
I fancy them in movie scenes,
not so much in reality, it seems.
It is late March now,
summer’s coming around.
If I should ever want a love confession in the rain from you,
that would take about three to four months from now, that’s cruel.
Way too long.
No. No. Stop it, honey.
Anyway I never cared about my life looking like a movie.
I’m saying, if you wanna say something,
then hurry!
I prefer kissing in the sunset because we just can’t help it,
than melodramatic yearning in the rain and we’re both wet.
If I should want a love confession from you,
I want it in summer here,
enough time has passed and I’ve been kind, don’t you think so, dear?
No. No. No!
Stop right there, my love.
In June, it will be rainy, lonely, drab
and dull here again.
Should I wait and ask for another six months: “God, when?”
When?
When?
I don't want love confessions in the rain.
Come here, darling.
Go.

Now here enters a woman who reads;
and voraciously, too.
In the coffee shop, in a wine bar,
in the meat shop, in a funeral.
Now here enters a woman who’s a poet;
she writes as one would deal drugs.
In the dark, in the down low,
in well-versed hush, in rehearsed rush.
Now here enters an angry woman;
“how feisty, I bet she’s a *****.”
Points fingers at men twice her size,
she punches mouths until they bleed out lies.
Now here enters a healthy woman;
healed as her anger is not suppressed,
she exercises, eats less than the rest,
hushes her mouth as the poison’s out.

“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.”

Si la paz está en el norte
y la guerra en el sur,
pero tú estás en el este
y yo en el oeste,
elegiría ir al norte.
Pero si mi corazón está en el mar
y tu mano está ardiendo,
si mis papeles y cartas son cenizas
y mi poesía está desechada en un saco,
yo quemaría por tocar y tomar tu mano.

Mother queen bee,
I wish you knew that your skin color
is the subject of envy
of women in the west and more!

The way the sun glows over your skin,
it’s nothing like they’ve ever seen!
The way I want to have your color every summer,
I’m sure this is something you’ve never heard before!

Mother dear,
I wish you knew that your skin is the honey,
that the baby bees need to be near,
and to have your color, other people would spend money!

The way your eyes and skin shines golden,
there’s nothing about you tthat I would change!
Like the way flowers bloom beautifully in the garden,
the bees says yes, the butterflies would nod in agreement!

A for another flight soon?
A for akala mo yata nagbibiro ako...
A for alphabet
B for Buena Suerte
B for borrowed time
B for Buenavista
C for conyo
C for Con Hielo
D for Drowning (in El Nido)
D for Do not drink the tap water (in El Nido)
D for something I really need now
E for Erceflora
E for El Nido
F for Five Feelings
F for **** this ****
G for God please, allow me to go to
Guimaras
G for God’s Eyes
G for gago ka ba?!
H for Hand
H for Horses
H for Homebody
I for Iloilo
I for
I for I will get back to you soon
J for Jordan
J for Jollibee Jaro (Iloilo)
K for
K for kakasabi mo lang, babawiin mo agad?!
K for
L for low tide
L for La Union... again?!
L for loanwords
M for Mangoes

S for skipping to S
S for something sweet
S for summer summer summer!
T for tangina, tagal!
T for tag-init

There is a poem I want to write
but can’t seem to begin to.
It’s just hanging over my head,
like a bounty of million.
It’s been bugging me,
like a fly buzzing.
I’m running out of good rhymes,
as you’re running out of time.
I am sorry, I am grateful.
I only wanted to know how you’re doing.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take some of these sweets,
some baked goodies with familiar names.
They might taste a bit different,
perhaps the fruits will, too,
because they’re kissed by the warmer sun.
But I could pick more for you,
if you should want.
But I will try to stay on my side of the field.
I will stay under my shade at the beach.
If I could have last five feelings,
I would save them all for you.
If tomorrow I could be a ceiling,
I want to be in your room.
For the last time, I’m sorry.
I only wanted to know how you’re doing.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.

If peace is at north
and war is at south,
but you are in the east
and I’m in the west,
I would choose to go north.
But if my heart is at sea
and your hand is on fire,
if my papers and letters are ashes
and my poetry discarded in a sack,
I would burn to touch and take your hand.

I've no need for sleep, until all the stars above our seas are free.
I've no desire to wake and rise, until the sun sets in our fields of rice.
I've no time to shed tears, until every drop of my ocean is allowed again to be salty.
I've nothing to lose, until I lose my motherland to the hands of another enemy.
I feel no hunger, until every farmer's family have something to eat.
I feel no thirst, until every fisherman's friends can sail and live.
I've no mind for pain and logic, until every politician's ideals are not from their ****.
I've no heart for heartbreak, until each of my countrymen's heartache has been healed.