I don't fight for anything until it's time for fighting things
So that means I'm a haze
Push me over see
I'm a false wall on a set stage
I'm convinced I'm a method actor
But it's like going out for sunbathing except the sun has already set
Like going out, shouting when the street is empty instead
The revolution is long over
I'm a stray dog
I'm peddling to ghosts
Always too late to the punch lines
Beating me into shapes
Halfway and half assed
Listening to track 4 again and again
Bending my Rubber Soul to the whims
All my lazy heart is only beating because it has to
My whole body is
See through
Me and the attempts to be new
Only render failing
Each day newly
I'm just boring as paint
And she probably doesn't like my colors anyway
Not when you get down to it anyway

After ten years, she knocks on my door again.

I try to speak.
I want to say something,
anything,
but I cannot seem to find the words.
I didn't think I would,
or that I could,
feel this much.
All I can do is stare at this apparition of my childhood companion,
who now holds her own child in her arms.


With eyes wide and mouth agape, I finally manage to splutter out
"Welcome back."

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

Limutin na ang mundo
Forget the world
And its intricacies
Your abusive father
Your good-for-nothing frenemies
Let go of the earth
Reach for the uncertainties

Nang magkasama tayo
I'll be here holding your hand
Reading your fears
In the lines of your palm
While feeling your taken risks
In the spirals of your fingertips

Sunod sa bawat galaw
Let me take the lead
Follow my steps
As we waltz off
From our consciousness
to the chains of the world

Hindi na maliligaw
We'll never be lost
When all miseries will be unknown
Or at least, we'll be lost
In all that is ours

Mundo'y magiging ikaw
*You will be my world
And I hope I'll be yours too

Follow your dreams
Is what we're told.
Burst at the seams
Let creativity flow.

But on the safe path
We tend to go.
For it would be daft
To perform at shows.

They sparked quite a fire
Then quenched our appetite.
Our dreams, they expired
They were scared off in a fright.

You might not know
That you even have a dream.
Our hunt for dough
Has become so extreme.

Engineering or law
Your dream might very well be.
But when you strip down to raw
Is that who you see?

A dream is crazy
A dream takes chances
A dream makes sacrifices
A dream is subconscious

Some say dreams are impossible
Some say your dreams are impossible

But to me
A dream is a part of you
That once removed
Makes you, not you

So find your dream
And make it happen.
Hard it may seem
Just do it with passion.

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.