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Feb 2019 · 49.3k
a lengthy tagalog prose
kha Feb 2019
6th of december, 2018.

“Pinagtagpo ngunit hindi itinadhana.” Madalas kong naririnig ‘yan, palagay ko’y ikaw rin. Pero kung iisipin, napakarami nating mga taong natatagpuan na nakatakda ring umalis. Ang ilan ay babalik, ang ilan ay maglalaho na lang. Hindi ko alam kung saan ka riyan nabibilang. Walang pakiramdaman, walang pakialamanan, walang pakundangang naghahanap ng mga bagay para pilit kang makalimutan. Gigising ako nang nakangiti, masaya, at ang nasa isip ay
“kakalimutan na kita,” ngunit kahit kailan ay hindi ‘yan nagkatotoo. Ang pag-asang makaahon sa ‘yo ay palabo nang palabo. Sa bawat gabing nagdaan, napapatanong ako kung saan na naman ako nagkamali. Saan na naman ako nagkulang? Saan na naman ako kinapos? O baka naman sumobra? Paikot-ikot ang mga mata sa lugar kung saan tayo huling nagkita. Saan mo ako iniwan? Pareho tayo ng pinupuntahan, pero hindi ko na alam kung paano pa babalik. Hindi kita mahagilap; ang tanging palatandaan ko para makabalik ay hindi ko na mahagilap. Dahil naglaho ka sa isang iglap. Hindi ko na alam kung paano pa babalik. Dahil hindi pa kita nakikita.

Ilang eskinita lang naman ang pagitan nating dalawa. Nariyan ang mga tricycle para mahatid akong muli sa bahay ko. Nariyan ang mga dyip na pupwede kong masakyan para lang mapalayo sa ‘yo. Tayo’y palaging nasa ilalim ng parehong langit, aalis at uuwi sa iisang lugar ngunit hindi man lang kita makamit. Pareho ng sinasakyan, pareho ng mga dinadaanan. Iisa lang naman ang mga pinupuntahan natin, ngunit ang araw-araw kong biyahe ay naging ikaw na ang destinasyon. Nagbabakasakali lang naman akong baka matupad mo ang aking imahinasyong hindi ko na batid pa ang limitasyon. Sa bawat pag-alis ko ay nananalanging magkita tayo sa lalong madaling panahon.

Ngunit hindi ko pa rin alam kung paano babalik. Alam ko ang ruta, alam ko ang sasakyan. Ngunit ako mismo ang nagpupumigil. Dahil hindi mo ako tinutulak palayo. Hindi pa man tayo nagkikita, mas gugustuhin ko nang hilain mo ako paalis sa kung saan mo ako iniwan. O baka ang presensya mo lang ang hiling kong masilayan, para tuluyan na akong makalakad paalis sa piling mo. Hindi ko naman mapapantayan ang babaeng nagdala sa ‘yo sa tahanan mo— ni hindi ko nga alam kung paano umuwi sa dapat kong uwian. At sa bawat biyaheng sinusulong ko, hindi ko man lang naisip na baka mali ang daan na tinatahak ko. Iba pala ang langit na pinagmamasdan mo sa umaga, kahit ang mga bituing nais **** titigan sa gabi. Iba pala ang sinasakyan **** dyip sa bawat pag-uwi. Iba pala ang eskinitang napapadparan mo. Iba pala ang langit na sinisigawan mo ng pangalan niyang kaakibat na ng apilyedo mo. Iba pala ang inuuwian mo.

Pasensya na, tanga ang kasama mo. Mali, hindi mo pala ako “kasama” dahil kahit kailan ay hindi ka naman sumama. Hinayaan ko ang sariling maligaw sa mga mata mo. Hinayaan kong mawala ang isip sa mga salita **** nadadala ako sa ibang dimensyon ng mundo. Hinayaan kong magwala ang pusong binuhay mo— na bibitawan mo lang din pala, dahil masyado itong magulo. Ngayon lang ako nakalabas at hindi na muli pang magtatago, ngunit niligaw mo ako. Pasensya na, gagapangin ko pa ang sarili ko palayo sa ‘yo.

Hindi ko maintindihan kung paanong ako’y napadpad sa ‘yo kung hindi ko pa nasisilayan ang mga mata **** mapanlinlang, na kung saan ay nagpahatak pa rin ako— delikado, at muntik pa akong mabaldado. Huwag na sanang pahintulutan ng mundo na pagtagpuin pa tayo, dahil kung sakali ay baka hindi na ako umalis. At baka samahan pa kita kahit saan ka man papunta, kahit sa piling niya pa. At lalong hindi tayo isang halimbawa ng “Pinagtagpo ngunit hindi itinadhana”. Inaantay ko pa lang ang matagpuan kita, upang makaalis na ako.
m.r.
Nov 2018 · 5.7k
past tense
kha Nov 2018
once I've been told,
'til these roses turn old
and my earrings tarnish their gold
my hands are what you will hold

since then, gazes went fiery
my palms weren't as sweaty
heart beating like crazy
my eyes were never teary

my poems have seen happiness
oh, dear God, I know I've been blessed
playlists were still sad, but less
calmed my waves with your caress

and in every relationship I've had
I've always anticipated for the bad
but you never made me go mad
and luckily, I was never sad

happiness with you in sight
you made me shine so bright
you embodied every winning fight
still smitten, never something so right

my words cherished you deeply
you might looked perfect, seemingly
my thoughts have suffered politely
made me look dumb intimately

have you realized
that I make zero sense?
because all of these
are written in past tense.
Nov 2018 · 66.2k
maaari ka bang tanungin?
kha Nov 2018
kasalanan bang umibig,
nang walang hangganan?
hindi nagpipigil,
laging handang lumaban?

kasalanan bang umibig,
kahit batid na masasaktan?
paulit-ulit mang matalo,
lalaban hanggang sukdulan?

kasalanan bang umibig
at bigyan ka ng mga tula,
tingin mo'y nakakakilig -
kahit ang mga mata mo'y 'di ko pa nakikita?

kasalanan bang umibig,
kapag ikaw ang nagpapangiti sa bibig,
nakulayan ang bawat pintig
ng pusong naghahanap ng hilig?

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ay ikaw na tamang-tama?
boses mo'y nakakanginig,
kahit hindi ko pa naririnig.

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ay ikaw na perpekto.
tila ginawa ka ng Diyos
na hindi maaabot.

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ay makita ka nang harapan?
upang hindi lang sa panaginip
na ako'y nasasaktan.

kasalanan bang ang hilig
ang isipin na ikaw ay tama?
hanap-hanap ang iyong titig
na pananakit lang naman ang tema?
Nov 2018 · 100.6k
hindi mo naman kasalanan,
kha Nov 2018
na ikaw ang inuna kahit ako ang iyong huli.
sinta, maaari bang masimulan nating muli?
parang tangang ikaw ang pinili
hinayaang makulong sa iyong tali

lahat ng aking alinlangan ay isinantabi
pinagkatiwala ang buong sarili
akala ko'y hindi ako nagkamali
ngunit nagsabi ka ng "sandali,"

"sandali, hindi ako lilisan
ngunit sandali, ako pala'y nalilito minsan
sandali. makinig ka muna. sandali lang.
hindi yata kita napupusuan."

hindi mo naman kasalanan
na ang sakit ay hindi man lang maibsan
hindi mo naman kasalanan
na madali akong palitan

hindi mo naman kasalanan
na hindi ako ang nakatuluyan
hinding-hindi mo rin kasalanan
na hindi ako kawalan

hindi mo kasalanan, mahal
na ang boses ko'y garalgal
at kapag ako'y hinihingal
kapag sinisigaw ang aking pagmamahal

at paghihintayin pa kita ng matagal
pahihintulutan kang maging pagal
ang usad sa akin ay laging mabagal
kaya hinding-hindi ka susugal

hindi mo kasalanan
ang aking mga kasalanan.
kaya't ako'y iyo nang iwan
sa sarili **** tahanan.
Jul 2018 · 497
Untitled
kha Jul 2018
nobody told you that you were beautiful,
should that mean there's something wrong with you?
Jun 2018 · 59.2k
salamat.
kha Jun 2018
salamat,
sa pagpiling laruin ang aking mga daliri
na tila hindi alintana ang pasmang taglay
na kung lumuwag man ang kapit ko,
ay mas hihigpit ang hawak mo
kung dumulas man ang palad ko,
ay hahatakin mo ako pabalik
patungo sa piling mo
upang hindi tayo maligaw
sa ating mga sariling halik.

salamat,
dahil ilang beses kong pinasalamatan ang kalahatan
pati ang tila pagyakap ng mga unan
sa iyong bawat pagtahan
ang mga salitang kaakibat ng kalungkutan at kasiyahan
at pagmamahalan,
na kung susuriin ay pilit na lumalaban
kahit paulit-ulit kitang pinapahirapan.

salamat,
sa araw-araw **** pagbati ng "magandang umaga"
kahit ikaw ang sanhi ng pag-aalinlangan
kung tama bang magpahatak sa iyong kanlungan.
ilang beses ko bang pagdududahan
ang boses **** tila kandungan
hindi ko man hiningi
ay hinandog ng kalangitan
sa likod ng mga telepono'y nagngingitian
ngunit pipiliin kong ang akin ay hindi mo masilayan
dahil puno ito ng kalungkutan.

salamat,
sa mga pangakong matulin ang pagkakasabi
na bago pa man bigkasin
ay batid ang mariing katotohanan
na paulit-ulit lang itong maglalaro sa isipan.
kahit ilang beses kong pagbawalan ang mundo
na bitiwan mo ang kamay ko
ay nasasakal na ang mga daliri
at humihina ang aking pulso.

salamat,
dahil ang relasyong ito ay tila hindi matatakasan
ang pangungusap na nabubuo'y nagtatapos sa kuwit
at ang mga katanungan ay sinagot ng pilit.
ang bawat "mahal kita" ay naging nakaririndi
nagbabalitaktakan kung kanino ang mas dinig
pilit man lakasan ang aking tinig
ang panawagan kong umalis ay hindi mababatid.

salamat,
kahit paulit-ulit kitang pakawalan sa aking puso
ay mahigpit ang iyong kapit
na sa sobrang higpit ay tila paulit-ulit ding nagdurugo
pati ang isip kong tila gumuguho
dahil hindi ka lumalayo.
patuloy man ang aking pag-ayos
at nagtamo pa ng maraming galos;
ay patuloy din ang iyong pagsira
dahil pareho tayong lumuluha.
j.s.
kha Jun 2018
He gave swerves to uncategorized happiness, with spins that ******* back into his despondencies. He was never given a chance to applaud himself for being a second-long happy or get back to the spotlight where he did belong to his whole **** life. He's properly beautiful when he dances, or when he's proud of his weakest points. Him singing, even the most heard songs will sound re-engaging as if he owns it. Our eyes pace head-on against our cars' contraries. Every scar I had given to my wrists soothe when we wrap our sinful hands in an ill-starred manner.

Love, for him, is altruistically pouring around like sudden downpours on a midsummer day; he had everything to offer yet nothing for himself. He invests a lot with what he wins back. He's the grandeur of a boring ensemble of actors yet still believes he's the subpar star when in reality, no such star existed like it. No one would ever dare to leave him with a river to bleed, or cherry wine bottles with teary send-offs.
Anyone who does that will rest assured have a slot in his own obscenities - oh, how I wish hell would be a lot better than that.

I wasn't briefed for safe keeping such recherchés, that I had to jilt. A handful will be curious, why my decision is a ****-up; or rather, why am I a **** up. But I would say people with better anything deserve his still-endearing dissonances. And all I have are lyrics while he gives song compositions. All he ever needs are happy mornings who hugs him back so right. Behind their curtains are joy-tinted windows with episodes of cuddles and husky 'Good morning's'. I am not that person, so I had left him in his most heightened situation yet - loving me. In a bed full of my inconsistencies, he was sleeping beside his hard-to-swallow Ecstasies.
j.s.
Feb 2018 · 2.1k
pitong letra
kha Feb 2018
ang huling pagkikita ay hindi mo man lang napansin.
minsan kang nasilayan sa ilalim ng mga bituin.
ilang buwan naghangad na ika'y makapiling;
kailan ka kaya mapapasaakin?

ang nais ko lang naman ay magkakilanlan -
magkita, magka-usap, maging magkaibigan.
limutin mo na ang iyong nakaraan,
gawing ako ang iyong kanlungan.

sa bawat gabi na ika'y pinapakinggan,
pagsidhi ng damdamin ay 'di maungusan;
sakit at pagod ay maiibsan
kung hanggang sa pagtulog ay ikaw ang pinagmamasdan.

pagmamasdan ang mga matang hapo,
ang mga gitarang sira ang capo,
ang amoy ng kape mula sa hininga mo,
pati ang paghilik **** nasa tono.

ang iyong damit na babad sa pawis,
at ang iyong sapatos na kumikinang sa kinis;
kung sa umaga'y bubungad ang ngiti **** kay tamis
ay hindi ko kailanman gugustuhing umalis.

at sa lahat-lahat ng kaya kong ilista,
habang ang lapis sa papel ay nabubura na;
sisimulan ko sa pangalan **** may pitong letra
hanggang sa kung paano ka tumatawa.

isusunod ko ang mga singsing sa iyong daliri,
habang ang buhok mo'y hindi na mahawi.
sa bawat galaw **** aking tinatangi,
at ang ala-ala mo'y patuloy na mananatili

pagkarupok ng puso ay lalong sumisidhi.
kapag ika'y nakikita, kulang nalang ay tumili,
maraming nagtataka kung bakit ikaw ang napili,
ngunit mahal, alam kong hindi ako nagkamali.

ang pagmamahal kong lubus-lubusan,
tila apoy na sinilaban;
sa'yo inialay ang bawat laban,
ngunit umuuwi akong laging luhaan.

kung gaano ko man gawing mahaba ang tulang ito,
mayroong ibang nagsusulat para sa'yo.
kahit ipilit ko pang gandahan ito -
hindi ko matutumbasan ang gawa ng nanalo.

at kahit magbilang pa ako ng bawat patak ng ulan,
na maaari namang bilangin nalang kung ilang beses akong luhaan;
dahil sa katotohanang hindi ako ang lulan
ng puso **** kay sarap sanang gawing tahanan.

oo, alam ko. hindi ako nagkamali.
dahil patuloy akong magmamahal kahit sa iba pa ako maitali;
patuloy kitang sisintahin sa bawat gabi
na ika'y natatanaw mula sa aking mga hikbi.

aking sinta, ikaw ang aking mundo,
mabura man ng hangin itong monologo,
mabaliktad man ito ay hindi magbabago,
at kung mangyari'y sana'y ako na ang iyo.
Feb 2018 · 531
spectrum
kha Feb 2018
If I were to tell about rainbows, our story would be a better topic than any other children's stories. Funny how these mere colors affect me with the rain's every finish, seeing myself searching for its presence as I close my umbrella, lift my chin up and play it all in my head again. The way you loved every color it had, and the amount of your affection for its rarity. Never thought such gay colors would bring memories as the sky gets clear, and everything turned gritty.

Red. Red is the color of roses you gave me. I remember how passionate, sweet and warm you were. Your love was not something hidden nor written; it was something felt, felt within every pixel of the thousands of photos of us. Evident were your eyes that would light up but it burned my skin like a matchstick, while I’m hoping that you’ll stay forever. I felt it within every sweet letter, filled with promises of 'see you later'. Felt with your sweet melting glance. Along with every bundle of nerves during our first dance. Felt with every lasting memory of our written story.
Not until the last red roses were delivered and your love began to wither. Our photos turned to you and her. Then written on your sweet letter said, “You can find someone better.” And your glance that became the last, witnessed me asking for another chance.

Instead of fresh rose petals, you brought a basket of oranges when you visited me in the hospital. I was sick as a kid but I miss you that I wanted to plead. I wanted to tell you how my heart bleeds and you're the medicine it needs.
But what can I do as she wrapped her hand around yours? What can I do seeing her finger perfectly mold for a diamond ring? Knowing that she's not just a fling. Both of you even greeted me with a smile. I was left all alone with my sighs. I kept the pain inside, even if it means I lied because I want to be your bride. How could I make you stay and that someday you'll realize it's me you want to embrace? But reality knocks me down. I'll have to wear a gown. Drink a glass of wine on your wedding day. Pretend that after a year or two, I am now okay.

All I know, the sun's yellow rays are festive and shout joy. They hit my bare skin through the curtains as I wake up. I greeted myself with "I only had my pillows beside me" instead of a 'Good morning' that you conventionally whisper to my ears, making my heart hop. I was too convinced you left early for an urgent call, but the yellow note says otherwise. Sticked to my bedroom door, it said "Meet me at 11 am on a cafe", and again, I read it thrice. Instead of notes, you leave me hugs which are nice but that was way before my heavy cries.

With mixed feelings, I opened my closet. I curtly picked my favorite dress, a green one. It is my favorite color. Emerald green to be specific, and tied my hair to a bun. I want to surprise you with a plain girl all gone - had a prep for my only one. That as I enter the cafe, everything will be invisible to your perspective and focus to your only one.
I added lipstick and a pink blush for me again to stand out. I had to erase all my doubts and be the girl you wanted all throughout.

And at ten-thirty, I rode the bus. The skies were blue but they're in brights. People were busy crossing with their heavy suitcases and all might. I remembered you again, and how I gifted you every suitcase that fed your sight.
Uncertain of all the possibilities today, I plastered my face with delight. But what do you mean 'talk'? Something serious? A wedding plan? An engagement? Or just a sip of chat?
The blue walls of the cafe welcomed my path with the aroma of coffee all along. Your eyes didn't look cheery but I didn't mind. Your smile didn't beam at me as it did before, but I didn't mind. You told me to order alone in the counter, but I still didn't mind. At this moment, my senses were frightened and my eyes were holding back everything that might flow.
"All of these were in a bind," you said, and gave me a letter, again, in a yellow colored paper. There might be someone else who dressed better, who cuddled tighter, who made your heart lighter. It said, 'Sorry, I fell out of love, you can find someone better'.

I was dressed with a finely embroidered violet gown, carefully hand-made with tears, surrounded by despair and finished with grief. On your wedding day, I tried to look nice and perfect. So that my unbearable sadness wouldn’t reflect. Then again as I slowly watch you smile as she walks down the aisle; I can’t help not to cry. I am no longer asking why. Violet perfectly describes gloom but perfectly makes you bloom. I realized that I shouldn’t mourn over your union but over the years of my devastation. I realized that it’s useless to weep and to sleep with the pain because it would remain. For it’s time to let you go. Accept that everyone come and go. More importantly free myself from your attachment even if it means shattering my heart into smaller fragments.

--- written with zhari
Feb 2018 · 682
cliff
kha Feb 2018
i should've jumped off the cliff for you,
let the rocks throw themselves through my shattered soul
had my bruises cut open even more
and still run with my bloodshot eyes
paving a way through my cloudy sky,
struggling to avoid the muddy waters
as i keep my heart all still and complete;
for you to gratify again and again
to be sure you won't let me down.

jumping off a cliff wouldn't hurt as much;
one leap would have my life shut
with my hands tightly ****** with cuts.
i will let you dig my grave
their tears blotting the casket.
but i'd like to feel yours, how they stream;
how your eyes puff out when you scream
to make me stay, to make sure i stay
insist my death to delay.

my heart will stay with yours, dear
until its last beat cries out your name
my organs might detoriate
but my mind will keep our fate.
now lying ice-cold with my filth,
my heart pumps its faint droplet
circulating all the regrets and guilt
why i didn't take a ride
to jump off that cliff.
Jan 2018 · 459
not a poem.
kha Jan 2018
She looked at him like he was the moon. Fascinated as she stayed up late, focused on his cloudiness which she described as her spectrum. All dreary and grey, dark and sunless. Countless people watched with her in the way he danced with the stars, the way he flaunted his brightest dim. But she kept on wondering if they even searched underneath the clouds when he wasn't around; had they worried if he seemed to be missing a part. Because she liked his company more than all the stars combined, even when he left her the morning she was supposed to arise.
Jan 2018 · 979
the moon
kha Jan 2018
as nights keep me awake
looking up to the stars in full show;
i see something i wish the sun wouldn't take,
hoping i would see it tomorrow

people love its monthly forms,
along with the stars fill eyes with delight.
behind the clouds i sense something so right,
my love for the moon fires every night.

i learned to love the darkness
for it hides a beauty within,
i feel warmth with its dimness
yearning for its nightlong company.

and when it disappears,
it splashes the waves to the sea of my fears
did it have itself slide through the clouds,
left as i kept my head up all proud?

but with its faintest rays,
and its invisible warmth,
comes the hope to overcome my frays
and the brightest stars in swarms.

my dreams are of the moon,
and tonight i gaze upon it again
stars in my eyes as i sleep on the roof
gives me a glimpse of the heavens.

— The End —