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hindi siya isang pintor
at ni hindi rin isang iskultor
ngunit nais na niyang maipinta
sa tulong ng mahiwagang tinta
yaong sa kanya'y humihimok
:mga kulay at puno sa diwa niya'y nakalilok!
Maging ang napakatayog na bundok
aakyatin niya hanggang mayapakan iyong rurok
at muli doon sa ibabaw
kanya pa ring isisigaw
ang mga pasaring ng kanyang abot-tanaw
bukam-bibig niyang imemensahe ang lihim sa liham nitong Tanglaw at Panglaw!
Bagamat minsan na niyang pinailanlang
yaring tagumpay na sa kabiguan ay sumalansang
at kung ating susuriin,di lahat ng kabalisaan ay gaya ng tubig sa pampang
sapagkat mayroong kapayapaan sa gitna ng kagulohang humahadlang.

Sa tuwinang pagmamasdan niya
ang walang pakpak na mga anghel sa lupa,
sa mga sandaling ramdam niya
ang mapanganib na mga lobong nag-aanyong tupa.
Iisa lamang ang katanongan na sa kanya'y sumasagupa
"ano nga ba ang kasagotan sa mata-pobre upang ito ay magpatirapa?"
nang sa gayo'y matutong manikluhod sa Dakilang Lumikha
Maiwaksi ang pang-aalipusta sa mga dusta
Huwag nang malunod pa sa yaman sa halip tumulong sa aba at dukha
sabi nga niya... ITAGA MO SA BATO AT SA TUBIG AY ILISTA
"hindi lang bilog ang kaya kong paikotin"
Ayon pa sa kanya--aking uulitin
"magagawa kong iluklok
ang magnasang maging nasa tuktok
basta't may kalakip na pag-ibig sa nasasakopang sulok"

hindi siya isang pintor
at ni hindi rin isang iskultor
ngunit nais na niyang maipinta
sa tulong ng mahiwagang tinta
yaong sa kanya'y humihimok
:mga kulay at puno sa diwa niya'y nakalilok!
learn to move
move to learn

*April 9 Araw ng Kagitingan sa Pinas
You packed for a picnic
Or a day in the sun
Now it’s time to pack it back
Whenever you are done.
Nobody cares what kind
Of drinks or junk you buy.
They care about the beauty
Of land and sea and sky.

You packed it in
So you pack it back.
Bring along with you
An extra ******* sack.
Care for our environment
As if it were your own.
We all live on this planet
You are not here alone.

Look around at where we live
What you can do to conserve
The wonders in nature.
Don’t throw us all a curve.
Pack back out what you bring in;
The right thing to do.
We are responsible adults
Not here to clean for you.

You packed it in
So you pack it back.
Bring along with you
An extra ******* sack.
Leave like you want to see it,
Think of more than just you.
Care for our environment
It’s the right thing to do.
The smell of burnt moments is
Haunting me.
The taste of ashes,
like a bittersweet friend,
Savoured in my tastebuds, mixed with
Chemotherapy

I used to be a young soul
Only fourteen winters had tested me.
But suddenly I had to discard the label of
"Cheerful and promising youth"
And replaced it with
"dying"

It's funny how life works out some times, and in this case -
How it didn't.
Not many tensions,
nor any excitement
Life has ever been
a placidly flowing river!

Single and free!

Over differences,
never been any disputes
never had to consult,
nor seek consent

Single and free!

but doesn’t his house
with its cold, mildewed air
reflect his heart?
A house so full of things:
a hoard of well stacked books,
exquisitely carved Victorian furniture,
antique collection of curios,
ornate drapery

Yet so full of nothing!

The prim order of the house
never disturbed by naughty hands
nor shuffled by dusty feet
dirtying the Persian carpets
 or smudging the glistening floor

The well laid bed covers
never get creased
by the body’s desire
and Love’s tight embrace
and never, they bear
the fragrance of female scent!

Sometimes he would shake
from foot to crown
at a question hurled by
an unknown voice;

“Did you squander away your life?”

Then he recognizes….
he has been a lone traveler
ever walking through
a one way lane
that will wind off
with a few more steps!
If, by chance somewhere
a new track
branches out
he would no more be
a solitary *****!
There would be a companion
to hold hands!

Now it is too late!
This is the story of one of my friends who remain a chronic bachelor. In his young days he was too busy with umpteen activities. But now he regrets his decision as he is growing old and feeling lonely!
Briar rose, ****** red,
Why do you dream of tangled
vines with thorns?
Briar rose, ****** red,
Why do you dream of the fair
maiden that mourns?
As pearls of winter fall upon you,
-How cruel is this season,
to inflict melancholy just by
freezing your petals in the
eternal swirl of time...
Little nightingale,
wings of white and gold.
Little nightingale,
singing gay and bold.
Fly away, far from your iron cage.
Fly away, up in the North sky.
One day you will come back,
singing your last requiem to me,
For I shall be there to hear no more.
   You are very brave,
   and you are very free,
So do not fall into sorrow,
do not fall into eternal repose.
But until then...
  - Sing, oh sing,
My sweetest nightingale
high above my broken baroque grave
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