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Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
I miss Naga City evenings and how I've been coaxed,
always gently,
to embrace her even if I was
to reek of alcohol before she retired.

Evenings always come and go, resembling one another
but never once tried to duplicate each other.

That Naga City dawn was a woman too.
My other lover, she was
the perfect concubine for a waning love for self,
under a Quince Martirez sky.
1.6k · Feb 2011
the mentos grape realization
Cielo Gebilaguin Feb 2011
i look at you
and a taste in my mouth
tells me,
"i like what i see."
1.5k · Feb 2011
If After Afterall
Cielo Gebilaguin Feb 2011
If after afterall,



I'd still take a stab at writing about you,

then I guess nothing has changed

from that psychedelic view.



It's barely noon and I feel that one

February where we stopped seeing that

view, a scenery so changed by oceans

and timezones and the ever changing me

and you.



After afterall,

these little peace signs still hang

around from my  neck, then I guess it's

the same as wearing my heart on my

sleeve, and your name's still on it.





*Reader, do not listen to William Fitszimmons on a Thursday, when you're on a deadline.
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
There is a note that lives between thought and slumber,
That’s when I thought of you today
A harmonica lay in my hand, the reeds looking at me silly,
Play, I imagined it say, and imagined it was really there.

In my mind we are still walking a dusty bluesy road, our jeans torn and worn
In this midday dream the blues is red and wore a hat; I let out:
This, is not the blues from which my hippie son was born.
I sigh, at the sight of a synthesizer kissing a harmonica, the synth in your head, the harmonica pregnant with my heart.
Our blues drove us to momentary madness, because Syd Barrett was always jealous
Like fights that happened on Sundays and when we choose to mock, then cruelness.
Come midnight someone awakes and someone is being wakened,
And outside, nothing is lit, But she's not afraid, just letting you know she was waking.

Your bedside was colored, certainly psychedelic, but was almost always red
I lay there, like a pregnant harmonica making love to a trusty guitar, the guitar thrusting, the harmonica trusting.

I confront salvation with a straight face, a cigarette now intruding
No, I yell, the harmonica sounds the same, still on the key of C,
But by a synthesizer you sat, the harmonica lay there, heavy with child, looking at me,
And as I stare back, I've seen: indeed you have chosen the synth.

A note creeps in between the high and dry of low, I insist that kismet needs a little shove
Just a push, a new pair of eyes, another heart and a memory that knows only love,
Spiralling in Syd's Milky Way, me drowning, me begging in exchange for you,
I tried moaning a tune but the blues have discolored and turned simply blue.

I face the devil now, I try to bargain, but he sings, 'the blues trusts no one, no longer.'
The devil makes a face, sings to me then says, 'you've forgotten that I'll always remember.”
1.2k · Feb 2011
gasp
Cielo Gebilaguin Feb 2011
it's always dark blue around you,

but i like it,

especially when you're curled up

in the corner, trying to be awake

as i blabber incessantly.



it's pitch black, i figured,

when you pull up that drawbridge

just when i have gotten past the moat,

i don't like it when it's

pitch black, like your scary beautiful

scuba dive.



because i can't swim.
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
The water is black
late night of a new moon.

I dive into it
swim underwater
away from the fire
and drunken noise
my heart beating hard
at odds
with the cold silence.

I scream ---
mostly bubbles
and a mouthful of salt
I gag and surface.

"Open your eyes underwater!"
you scream from the shore
"There's phosphorescence!"

I open them for the first time
in salt water
and see the algae lit
a tunnel curved in my hands
I do a somersault
then float
knees pressed to chest
blowing light bubbles.

I get back
no towel, sand in my pants
huddled by the fire
I press you close,

But your head is
bent, away
"I can't love you"
you mumble to my chest
squeezing harder.
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
He's a cynic,
she's a motley fool
they go through time;
witty, in opposite directions

Together they make up
the string of Time:
everlasting, effervescing,
shimmering a long a line.

In contrast they balance
In not like features they oppose
Uneducated or wise,
each to the same degree.

They balance like 6 and 9,
fitting like
two paisleys
in the same sphere

Likewise they despise and love:
in the same degree, at the same time
Everlasting, effervescing,
shimmering a long a line.
949 · Dec 2010
when write has left
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
All of a sudden I can no longer write

I’ve lost a tone, an evil glint in the eye

Lost the snicker of a sardonic, and instead found a

Muffler for madcap laughs.
Cielo Gebilaguin Feb 2011
Revised version of a note that I was able to write after sharing beer with a friend and learning about her story. The topic came up because U2's With or Without You started showing on Channel V and she told us the song was playing when they were, finally, going their separate ways.

This note is for 9 years, for a marriage then for zilch, and for anyone who has lost a marriage.

And to you, my friend: life is still good.*



Nothing could  have been

more apt

than Bono singing who

he couldn't live with,

or without.



After domestic trials

and errors, we

were telling each other,

that hereafter

I shouldn't live with

or without you either.



Nine, it's a magic number,

to count the years we had been

together.



Two, was you and me,

reduced

to me and she.

We were,

just you and I,

bound

by papers signed.

We share,

a last name I

can no longer make use of.
738 · Dec 2010
The Sunday Morning Listen
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
This is the Sunday Morning Listen, a radio show in my head.
We wake up to Quando, Quando, Quando and
Know that Humperdinck's question's been answered.

Not of old songs but old times, this is reminding me of old,  
Like jeepneys en route to heaven, but the passenger detoured.

This is the Sunday Morning Listen,your sound is still in my head.
717 · Jun 2011
Skewer
Cielo Gebilaguin Jun 2011
I shook you gently, wake up, I was hungry again.
I said I was eating for two, you obliged and got
up from your side of the bed.
We had slept early that night, the neighborhood
was still up when we woke. We walked, the air
whiffed of the usual street fare over hot coals.

I asked, if it was alright to eat at this time of the night.
Thinking you’d object, I pointed out,
I was eating for two and you smiled a bit.

I was eating for a child you said we couldn’t keep.
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
These frayed jeans know you very well.

As every tear became a hole
and every hole exposed my knees,
you ripped them apart some more
they now looked like your jeans.

These frayed jeans know you very well.

They hung on a hook, in a box for a home,
with blankets for a bed,
where love was made
like it's never been invented.
583 · Dec 2010
Running From My Shadow
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
i can’t keep up

with me running away from

me with the penchant

for running away.

i’m gone

i’m gone

like dried roses by the sink.
Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010
We were young and Ateneo was the only place
we ever wanted to go to.
Even though most of our time were spent in class,
and most of our classes were spent in that huge classroom
called Ateneo Avenue,
and most of our theories were declared on that enormous rostrom
called Four Pillars.

We were young and Ateneo was the only place
we ever wanted to go to.
We are old and Ateneo is the only place
we ever want to go to.
484 · Feb 2014
Post Valentine's Cheese
Cielo Gebilaguin Feb 2014
From an abandoned blog
Linked to a forgotten email account
I remembered abandoned emotions
I'm not sure I ever forgot.
436 · Feb 2014
Untitled
Cielo Gebilaguin Feb 2014
AT NIGHT, THIS PLACE

IS YELLOW-LIT AND DESERTED,

A STRANGE COMFORT FOR THE PENSIVE,

FOLLY FOR THE HAUNTED.

YOUR NAME

IS ETCHED AT THE BACK

OF MY HEAD,

HIDDEN, IN A GRID,

WHERE MIERZWIAK WOULDN’T

FIND YOU.

AT NIGHT, ATENEO AVENUE

IS YELLOW-LIT AND DESERTED,

I REMEMBER:

"THIS IS WHERE I SAW YOU FOR THE FIRST TIME."


I FLICK MY CIGARETTE AND MAKE UP

A GOODBYE,

LIKE JOEL TO CLEMENTINE,

AND HEAD BACK

TO WHERE

THESE YELLOW LIGHTS

CAN’T FIND ME.

— The End —