I can howl  in words but
I say it gently instead, no, fiercely,
first to myself and to him and to her
to you if necessary and to them
for as long as it takes
why and how and what
 how come and when and what for
how is my mind, I ask even the wind
this is what I usually play on repeat
why these thoughts images feelings
sensations movements words and deeds
everything is together but not always apparent
cause we are trapped inside the curvature of  mind
evolving in tunnels unexcavated trenches
breaking loose on wider routes only when there is time
our thought trapped on certain orbits of habit
on the available energetic level at one time
the same way as our well behaved atoms spin their wonder
the same way as everything is evolving into its waterfall

imagination is the way I play with myself,
with you and them and the world
for destroying the habit of seeing hearing interpreting
we play language games everytime
we don't use the right thoughts for emerging bulshit
straightforward bullets deepening confusions
deceptions limitations judging&comparing
seduction of half truths and easy routes
or inventing enemies
so ask questions get answers
ask the same questions get other answers
I allow my mind to flow in unknown spaces
only because I learn from those
who attempt true learning
I am really forced to listen rather carefully
to the music of thinking
but about this in another poem
for now I'm listening to these feelings
and it might get unbearable
to recognize the disintegration of the night
information everywhere you look
you can wear your thoughts as your shoelace
or you can envision perhaps this poliphony of meaning
cause thought is no other than a form of relating everything to everything else
there are crystals of meaning cause we need more facets
they need to be smashed and reinvented
don't be afraid the riverbed will stay pretty much the same
it's fine to know what you know and there
is so much that we don't
we are not innocent creatures in not knowing
only sometimes perhaps
we need to listen to our deeper thoughts
who is the dancer who is the dance

what about this pain, always this pain
I don't know if you know
that turns the marriage of body&mind into
the marriage of heaven&hell,
as Blake put it

some don't believe in the Gulag of the mind
so the fate of the unconscious is to repeat itself
when it is just the psychoanalytic bulshit
they don't need they don't care they protest against
you see there is also this sweet sweet desire for not knowing

perhaps I am waiting for my mind
your mind/the collective mind
to embrace me
to embrace you
to embrace itself

“their mental state contains something lethal:
past, nothing but past” Nikolay Y Ossipov

you measured your height
with the mountains
your fists with the howl
of lonely wolves
to avoid helplessness stupidity confusion:
the all too encompassing human nature

I no longer want to keep you
in the alternative dimension
guarding your wholeness
I'll let you fall into pieces
I'll let you die the death destined
to you
instead of crushing him
or imploding myself
for him to rearrange his fragments
for me to hope for all the levels
of coherence
I/we are capable of

bodies afraid or in love are the most intense
I want my body back
from your battlefield of delusions
your pain is not my pain
your despair is not mine
your manic refusal of touch
is still my manic capacity
to love wounds tragedies
aborted laughter
some words are mirrors
I'll keep writing to you
till there is no escape
from the clarity
of dawn:
all my love is of
no real use
to you

010120

Let me not forget where I indeed came from —
That even the blood that runs within me
Was a choice of my Father in Heaven
Who answers my cry and filters even my deepest thoughts.

Let me not forget how my parents worked hard for us to move forward,
That I may be grateful to my ancestors (elders in the family)
For paving the way for us to believe
In Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior.

For as I ponder throughout my days,
It’s like God revealing to me,
“Anak, be faithful in your days
For your generation will benefit
From both your actions and choices”
And so, what can I do away from the Lord?

Let me not forget how the good Lord
Has brought my parents from Romblon to Palawan by His purpose and will.
Their step of faith was a domino-effect
For us to see the glory of God in the time of our encounter —
The revealing of His power and His identity in us.

Let me value even the days that are still unknown to me
The past where they grind for a living —
How they enjoyed walkin’ going to school
And bartering products for school supplies.

God heard their desire not to simply graduate
But granted them land jobs
To which I believe God is glorified.
They tasted being the first generation Christians
For us to experience breakthroughs
Together with the Lord while being patient in His time.

Never did they allow poverty to hold them back
From what the Lord has openly bestowed for us.
We are never rich in material things
But they have instilled in us
The greatest thing we must possess in life
And that is our relationship with Jesus.

Let me not forget how He has lifted my generation (my clan)
To succeed while relying on His Word & sovereignty.
And so during these past few days,
I’ve witnessed how His favor showered
Every member of our clan —
All I can say is praise be to our God!
That wherever we are led,
We’d keep in mind that He is watching over us
And He is always after saving our entire generation.

Let me always rejoice in the Lord
Even in tests & trials of life.
That everything is in His hands
And we are safe in Him.
All the glory and honor of Jesus Christ,
You are the beginning and the end!
In 2020, do reign in our hearts!

Yours isn't gentle lunacy,
It's hammerhead insanity.
Great white crazy.
I'm not even safe walking on
the sand.
You ******* learned to graze on
the land.
Evolution is a *****.

My words don’t have arms big enough to hold these great and growing feelings.
They stay in my insides
Crowding out
Grinding down the subtleties
That reside near the edges in the used to be,
that cushiony soft berm.

It was comfortable in here once

The Room for Interpretation,

now lost,
now over-full,
balloon-bright and tumbling one voice and many into and out of supremacy.

These great and growing feelings
and my insufficient words
that fall from me one-by-one into place,
the thudding truth in basic blue.

081721

Bagamat dumadaplis lamang sa atin
Ang mga palaso ng kalaba’y
Hindi moog ang ating mga damdamin
At hindi rin bulag ang ating mga pananaw
Sa hayag na pagsasalitan ng mga balang ligaw.

Gaya ng durungawang nakasilip
Ay bukas na rin ang ating mga isipan
Sa mga di kanais-nais na mga patibong
Na ilang ulit inilagan sa katahimikan.
Bagkus, ang mga ito’y nagmistulang mga laruang papel
Na madaling napunit at bumigay
Buhat sa walang awang pamimihasa
Ng mga ahas at linta sa lipunan.

Tila sila’y nakasilid na lamang
Sa kahong hindi de-baterya
Habang tayo’y nagsisilipat
Sa tuwing nagsusulputan ang sari’t saring palatastas.

At habang tayo’y nananatiling panatag
Buhat sa ating mga kinatitirika’t kinalalagyan,
Kasabay naman nito ang pagyurak sa mga dangal
Buhat sa mga ideolohiyang kumikitil sa mga pangarap
At nagsisilbing diktador sa kani-kaniyang mga tahanang
Wala nang makita pang ibang dahilan upang tumahan pa.

Ang mga luhang hindi natin makayang punasa’y
Nagmimistulang mga tinik na lamang sa’ting mga pagkatao.
Syang susulpot at tutusok sa pakiramdam nating
Minsan nga’y malapit lamang tayo sa isa’t isa
At sana’y kaya nga nating patahimikin
Ang walang himpil na pag-usok sa kanilang ipinagbabaka.

At sa ating paghimlay sa ating mga kumot
Ay sabay din silang mangungulila
Sa mga akap at lambing ng kanilang mga mahal sa buhay
At hihilinging huminto na lamang ang mga sandali’t
Makatakbo sila’t makalisan nang walang nakakapansin.

Nauubos na ang katas ng mga bulaklak sa hardin,
Gayundin ang mga dahong tila nagsasayawan sa bawat pagsipol ng hangin.
Unti-unting ring nanamlay ang mga iwinawagayway sa bawat pulong ipinagbigkis.
At maging ang bahaghari'y waring sanggol na nahihiyang magpakita't piniling magtitiis.

Sa pagtikom ng bibig ng tinuturing na demokrasya
Ay nasaan nga ba ang tunay na pagkalinga?
Na sa tuwing gumagayak ang mga nakapilang ekstranghero
Ay magsusulputan ang mga buwayang masahol pa sa nakawala sa hawla.

Sinisipat ang mga bulsang walang laman,
Para bang mga santo silang naghihintay sa alay na hindi naman nila pinaghirapan.
May iilan pa ngang susukli ng lason buhat sa kanilang mga bibig.
Matindi pa sa hagupit ng kidlat, kung sila ay magmalupit.

Doon sa kasuluk-sulukan ng kurtina sa entablado'y
Nagsitikom ang mga buwelta ng mga may puting kapa.
Sila sana ang pinakamakapangyarihan
Na hindi kung anong elemento ang pinagmumulan.
Sila sana ang pinapalakpakan,
Ngunit ang suporta'y wala naman palagi sa laylayan.

Taas-noo sila para sa bandilang pinilay ng sistema.
Bayani kung ituring ngunit sila'y napapagod din.
Nakakaawa, pagkat sila'y pinamahayan na rin ng mga gagamba
At kung anu-ano pang mga insektong noo'y itinataboy naman sa kanila.

Tangay nila ang armas na posibleng lunas sa kamandag,
Sila na rin mismo ang dedepensa't aawat
Sa paparating na mga kalabang hindi naman nila nakikita.
Ano nga ba ang laban nila?
Ano nga ba ang tagumpay na maituturing
Sa labang tanong din ang katapusan?

Samu't saring lahi na may iisang kalaban
Ngunit ang tanong ko'y, may iisa rin bang patutunguhan?
May iisang sigaw ngunit ang tinig ay wasak sa kalawakan.
May iisang mithiin ngunit ito'y panandalian lamang.
Pagkat sa oras na ang giyera'y mawaksian na rin,
Ang medalya't parangal ay tila isasaboy pa rin sa hangin.