Ana knows I can't be alone,
So she will mourn by my side,
While I count down
From the start
When...
Love lived a decade ago;
Calendar dated 10th century,
Top chest smeared with last millennium's dust and dried rose petals,
Bottom shelf stacked with the Recent epoch's chronicles in scrolls,
And I wrote this anecdote during the late Eocene,
But I am now an era old;
Too short of memory to remember fairytales,
Too outgrown to believe magic tricks or play a game of chance,
Too outworn to have my heartstrings plucked,
Too callous to bear a soft spot,
Too archaic to belong in any contemporary world,
Too ancient for a technological revolution.
Fixed in a period that won't age,
Absent of a timekeeper, missing every timepiece;
My antique mind couldn't only smarten up for
This relic of a body, camouflaging skin-deep among prototypes,
Preserving the fossils of my endangered heart.
Maybe one day a noble clocksmith will come
And build us a time machine.
Maybe I'll have my youth back
When Ana teleports back to Erin,
Where her misplaced soul will finally be home with the gods,
For I think I'd do fine without her anymore,
As I land inside a time capsule,
Or wake up as a hand-me-down,
In time at long last with today's pendulum clock.
I'd be lucky if it's the clocksmith who takes such artifact.
But until such time warp,
Ana knows I can't be alone,
So she will mourn by my side,
While I count down
From the start
When...

Who needs chocolates
when your sweetness
goes beyond my tongue,
beyond my senses,
into my memory,
where it makes the taste
of everything sweet
seem sugar-free?

Who needs flowers
when I've got a field
spreading from our love,
filled with buds that don't die
and don't need colorful petals
to attract more than two,
forever growing,
with scent everlasting?

Who needs gifts
when everyday I get to
unwrap true love
covered in layers
of this friendship,
life's most valuable present
you can receive many times
but only keep once?

Who needs Valentine's day
when life itself,
for us,
is a celebration,
and our hearts are always
birthday celebrants
because everytime
feels like the first time?

I don't want to be
a lesson you go back to
when you need to remember
the definition of loss.

I don't want to be
a living memory
that breathes and laughs
only in your head,
so close but you can only see
when you close your eyes
and hold only in your dreams.

I don't want to be
a tenant who rents a space
only to leave
permanent damages
in your heart.


I want to be
a teacher you turn to
for inspiration
for things that last.

I want to be
an imagination happening
right before your eyes,
not in your mind
nor in your sleep,
whose hands you can hold
and lips you can kiss.

I want to be
a housekeeper who stays
to take care of your heart
and make it my home
for life.

My window screens are funnels
For you to infiltrate
And surround me
Like midnight dew.
Float right before my face,
Embrace me like what real coldness
Does to the sides of my pillow,
And breathe on my eyes close.
Oh ghost of the night,
Help me sleep tight.

Electrons, making me feel like a *****.
Where the heck did ADP come from?
I don't even want to wonder why there suddenly is a phosphate group.
How come G3P wasn't a nickname when I was a sophomore?
Glycolysis was not a crisis,
And I understood Miss Minnie's drawings.
Now I have a book with 3D figures,
But cellular respiration was not who it was four years ago,
And I swear I've encountered all of them before,
But where did they all go?
I know their names but not who they are.
Honestly, I'd rather think fermentation occurs in a bar.

Once again, I am not only alive;
But newborn-alive.
Antoine de-Saint Exupery tried to tell us
That besides having the solution to every riddle,
Snakes can also teach us
That we have always been the better creatures
For we shed our insides,
The only touchable things our souls produce;
Instead of our outsides,
And they come out of our only way in
To another soul,
And everytime they do,
We run after our breaths
Like the first time we learned
We actually need it.
We will really always meet ourselves here,
In this middle darkness where we first saw light
And made that womb-to-tomb pact of companionship
With what we came with to this world,
The same thing we'd leave with
Or leave because of,
And leave behind to cause a whole lot more
Shedding of insides
When we finally go the only way,
Which, all along,
Is back...

With every blink,
Things will look bleak
But choose not to sink
You are the opposite of weak.

From hour to hour
Your sweetness spills
And life can be so sour
But your nectar refills.

Don't look so blue
But if you must, be the sky.
Maybe look up for a clue,
You can always try.

Have you ever fell into that trap of a feeling
Of being a broken dam trying not to burst and overflow,
While sticking out a believable face at the same time,
For it's dangerous to have people know of your ill-being,
That your tormented head starts to ache
That same ache it does
When you accidentally sniff water
When you're submerged in a pool or in the ocean,
Or when you drink and tilt the glass too much
That the water splashes on your face?
Well tonight I'm caught pretty deep.
Funny how it doesn't feel like drowning
Or having water inside your head;
But more like crying without the tears
And sneezing without the gooey stuff.
Where is it coming from?
How come it won't leave
When you didn't even feel it enter?
I wriggle like a fish out of sea,
Will it do any good to shake the ache off?
But it's 12 midnight
And the walls know I'm lost until another sunrise.
I unplug every switch
Inside my smarting head,
So I won't get electrocuted
When the water touches my thoughts
Of potential whirlpool or tidal wave.
If I could just close my eyes,
So the water won't find any openings,
As well as to prevent me from leaking.
But you can't keep water out;
It can creep in through the littlest holes
And the narrowest spaces.
And you almost slipped my mind,
But how could you possibly?
Not one of my pens has ever run out of you,
And no paper has ever dried from you;
And I bathe in you every morning,
As I cleanse my shell,
Since the day you poured onto my shrivelled earth.
Trickles of you infuse me,
Day and night;
You can flow in and out whenever you please
And it feels as if you've been inside all this time,
Or maybe you never really even left.
So you rippled your way
To turning on one switch;
The switch for my dreams.
Funny how I didn't get electrocuted
Or send whirlpools and tidal waves.
And still, I don't.
Now you are suddenly here,
For a visit,
Downstairs, at the living room,
Where everybody is.
Tangibly present, presently real.
In your favorite color,
The color you are when I watch over you from the shore,
Or when you try to make me smile by holding out the sun behind the clouds;
Bright and refreshing.
And it's the middle of an orange afternoon
On a day that is never going to come,
And I am there too,
And suddenly there is no place to be
But by your side,
And we are hand in hand
As we face the demons of this hell-house.
We stand as I introduce you to them,
And they deliver their lines
Without making any sound,
Or maybe I just turned their voices off.
After all, this bubble is mine.
So we walk out of the door,
Away from their further discussions,
And it is now evening,
And it is still orange,
Matching the glow of the street lights
On the other side of the road.
And we sit on the sidewalk,
Feeling the warm night,
Taking off our skin
Made of what we're not,
To feel a little less hot;
For you will surely sweat
When you have to put on
Something you don't fit in,
Just to look good on the outside.
Now we are dressed with who we are
When we don't have to be like them,
And I tell you it's because they're people
That I don't belong with them.
And you ask, “But what about me?”
And I say, “But you are not them,”
You are you;
And that doesn't make you
Fall under any category.
Am I an intruder,
Trespassing on your island,
Or is this Atlantis
The only home for our souls?
I haven't met theirs,
But I have met yours,
And I know yours;
Or at least I think I do.
But you know mine,
And I know you understand
Even if you don't agree sometimes
Because I can't be right;
Just not in this world.
But in our island I could,
So I go on telling you things I haven't stopped speaking of;
Things you haven't stopped listening to,
Since the day I first landed on your seabed.
Then you smile and sing the right melodies
That will reverberate forever in my head
And turn into secret hymns,
Or duets if we hit the same note,
When the world won't turn its volume down;
Just like every other piece you recite.
You tell me to just look at the bright side;
That part you never fail to show me,
That part I can't find when you're gone,
And I say I am looking directly into its eyes,
As I turn to catch your sight.
And suddenly we freeze,
And I don't wish
For our continents to drift;
Can't we just let this ice age take
All the time it needs?
I guess this illusion is enough
To resuscitate me for a few more hours;
But it can't build me a lighthouse,
Or carry me in a life boat;
For in this kind of high tide,
I could really use some you.

My communication skills ****,
How will I ever be able to earn a buck?
I could even lose to a duck.
What is wrong with me, ****.

Seawater on summer
Is what my tears are
When they race down my cheeks;
Hot and salty.
And I knew they did not sidetrack
To evaporate on my lips
But I tasted that bitterness
Caught in my throat
Which my eyes have no power
To splash like the waves
That normally surf my face;
Only accumulate
And let them slam inside me
Repeatedly.
And I wish I did not have to
Watch that movie,
Watch that part of the movie,
Watch that movie's credits rolling,
Repeatedly,
Just to admit
That I cheated on this taste test
And my tears are not salty.
At all.

How to make sure
That there is a measure
Between actualities
And the mind's fantasies?

How to make sure
When the caricature
Is more probable
Than the real trouble?

How to make sure
Of one's nature
Only in sentences
Without presence?

How to make sure
That one's kind gesture
Is not given to deceive,
But what you need to perceive?

How to make sure
That you will be treasured
For the way your brain twirls,
When you're a pretty pearl?

How to make sure
You aren't only for leisure
If you can't read
When they play or heed?

How to make sure
That under seizure,
You are held captive,
Even when unattractive?

How to make sure
Your every feature
Will be embraced
Even if you're crazed?

How to make sure
That the pressure
In the sender is equivalent
To that in the recipient?

How to make sure
That one's exposure
To a safe hydration
Won't lead to explosion?

How to make sure
That the only fracture
Happens when you break,
Not when you can still take?

How to make sure
Your preserved stature
Will only be buried
Once you're no longer carried?

How to make sure
For a future
If nothing will remain
But memory stains?

How to make sure
That the adventure
Is worth the cost
Of getting lost?

Tomorrow held such promises
then the next day came
and broke all of them.

How to be silenced
with your own words?
Write in someone else's voice.

Here is something
From someone
You'll never miss
Nor expect
Will ever miss you,
But still I wish
I could have had the chance
To be your friend,
But it's way too late already
For what can never be,
But still I wish
I could have met you long ago,
So that we would be older
And you won't be too young
To be this early,
But still I wish
I could have found out sooner,
But it was too sudden
And nobody saw it coming,
But still I wish
I could visit you now
But I'm far away,
Not only by miles
But from the list of people
You want to be there,
But still I wish
I could at least cry,
But who am I anyway
To mourn for you
When I am just a name
Who rings a bell
Without a sound,
But still I wish
I could just sing you a song
In my most sorrowful voice
Since it's all I could do
At times like this,
But what good
Would that do anyway,
When you won't hear it
Cause you're already gone
And I'm just another one
Of the many
Whom you must've thought
Never saw you there.
But I did,
All the time.
Since we were in junior high,
Until now.
And I have always known
You could be so much more,
And you would reach places
With that charming face
And that strength and grace
I will never forget,
But I just didn't think
That the first great leap
Would be to heaven.
But I know
That even until there
You will still shine out
From the rest,
And down on us,
And we could only look up
Every night
To see you smile.
But still I wish,
I could thank you
For letting me realize
How thankful I should be
For being still here
Even though we're frail
And life is harsh
And some of us don't make it,
But I'm sorry
You had to stop
While I continue,
But still I wish
I could do anything at all
So this would not have meant
Another lament.

Take your thoughts to the sink,
Pile them all up with the plates,
Grimy and greasy
Just like your mind
Which you can scrub all you want
With a sponge or a foam
Since there's no difference
Above sea level,
But the residues will remain
Staining your perfect little machine,
Robotic, malfunctioning,
Because manpower is always better
Than a cold bin
Where it is just you
Echoing your asking everything
Except for what you want
Because cowardice and pride
Are the oil of your psychomotor,
Running,
Missing,
Out on those
Who really don't need you in their lives,
Let alone
To do their dishes,
If ever, in case,
So what the hell are you still doing,
Waiting for the suds to drain,
Don't **** your brain
Like this,
Get a pen
And replace the dishwashing liquid
With real poison.

Looking at a computer screen
but seeing blue skies;
brain frying in radiation,
body floating in the open ocean.
Heels on concrete,
grass between toes.
Pounding on computer keys,
pricking on cactus spines.
Thinking of brand conversion
but dreaming of the Grand Canyon.
Impersonating relevance,
giving my rhymes a rest.
A fool for freedom
but a tool for currency.

If every word you utter
Comes with a scratch on my skin,
Then I must be skinless by now.
But I'd rather drown in the water
Or hit myself with a tin,
Than to wound myself with your howl.

If the more you raise your tone,
The more I become deaf,
Then please scream your all.
For I'd rather feel alone;
Never to hear myself,
Than to hear your call.

If only there is a way
To stop the way I feel,
I wouldn't be writing this;
Nor would I even say,
And nor would I even feel
That I need to write this.

Three early birds broke the flying record today,
Under a ball of yellow light and sky of white cobwebs,
Uphill, amidst a godforsaken town,
At the far end of the deserted residential area,
In front of our binned and bagged house,
On the peach tiles of our topsy-turvy garage,
Inside a scroungy cardboard box,
Between the wasted space and rotten nest made of broom,
Where they left their bodies mushy and misshapen,
Where a colony of red ants now celebrate for a carrion feast.
They flew higher than any in their kind could ever reach,
That they went straight to heaven,
Early for their embellished feathers and wings,
Early for their final cartilages,
Early for their full-grown beak and claws,
Early for their black, beady eyes,
Early for their last rites,
Yet for us to forecast the bad news,
Yet for us to get off of our plastic chairs of indifference,
Yet for us to drop our glasses of lemon juice and inattention,
Yet for us to fumble outdoor and crash the ceremony,
Yet for us to solve the mystery,
Of whether the ball of yellow light radiated enough to fry,
That the three early birds had to fly the coop to oasis;
Of whether our mother's frenzy gave a cold welcome,
That the three early birds had to say goodbye when she tossed the box out;
Of whether I am to blame for yesterday's miracle
Of finding their home attached to the open bottom of our air-conditioner,
Which turned into a tragedy of a falling baby out of excitement,
That the three early birds felt like it was time to join their fourth sibling once again.
Indeed, too early
For the three siblings endowed with a mother and a father,
For mankind is blessed enough to have such a thing as family,
Who claimed the three early ones before the garbage does,
Who could've been proud parents in the future,
For witnessing the becoming of their three youngs
Who came out too soon,
Who were traceless of eggshells,
Who never knew a father,
Who were ****** enough to even be abandoned by a mother,
Who never knew if she even came back for them,
Who broke the flying record.
Indeed, too early.
After days of packing up sentiments,
Donating valuables,
Throwing away memories,
And leaving behind possessions,
I thought, for a moment,
We could save something
But we couldn't.

I.
Alice in Wonderland thinks that she had found
The perfect place where she heard the white hare's sound
And the meow of Cheshire cat with nose so round,
Along with singing flowers on the green ground.

She'd stay asleep forever
Just to stay in Wonderland forever.
She refuses to wake up and says, “never!”
But I would stay awake forever
If I'd be with you forever.
Because with you, there's always a Wonderland wherever.

II.
The mirror says Snow White is the fairest in the land.
She already has it all; no need for a magic wand.
And with that beautiful voice, she could even sing in a band.
And after a kiss, the prince took her hand.

No other face could be compared to her beauty.
Her snow-white skin and blood-red lips are what brought her popularity.
Still, she has sincerity and humility.
I'm not beautiful, and that's reality.
And all that I have is self-pity.
But you make me feel as if I'm prettier than Aphrodite.

III.
Of all the fairytales, it was Cinderella who first had a happy ending.
She and the prince were dancing
Until the end of the evening.
And the next thing she knew, she was wearing a wedding ring.

She had the best happily-ever-after;
From wearing rags to living in a castle tower
And drinking wine instead of just water.
Love made her life brighter.
But my love story is even better,
For it has a happy ending every chapter.

IV.
Juliet claims her story still is the greatest of all.
She met her prince Romeo at a royal ball.
But between them, their families built a wall.
But with their eternal love, even death haven't had the chance to forestall.

She's right, her story is golden.
All the others have failed; her place cannot be taken.
Romeo and Juliet's record might not have been beaten,
But the greatest story yet to be written
Is our story where love goes beyond heaven.
Because if I would die for you, I'd do it over and over again.

I am finding air,
Searching for a new atmosphere.
I think I need some time to catch my breath,
Then hold it out for the fresh breeze of hope
After exhaling the despair-blended smokes,
In order to feel alive once more.

I am finding air,
Yearning to spread out my wings
And make the sky my home.
Let me first bloom in my cocoon,
So I shall come out rainbow-stained
And the *** of gold will soon show itself to me.

I am finding air,
Allowing the current to sweep me off my feet.
Not looking down,
Despite of hanging by a thread;
Not planning to land yet,
No matter how hot or cold it gets.

I am finding air,
Shading with clarity these shadows dulling my presence
As the blinding haze thickens,
While the heavy downfall pours to wash me away
And darkness shames me to fade away.
Until I taste the sun, you couldn't keep me in any lair.

I am finding air,
Following the blow of the wind,
To look up to a different horizon,
To chase after my lucky star,
To reach for the moon hiding behind the clouds,
And have the whole universe in the palm of my hand.

I am finding air,
Now peaking the crown of paradise,
Embracing a full heaven,
Back to where I started;
Walking on air,
Inspiring another endless quest.

I will not
Go anywhere.
There is no
Destination.
Funny how
I have complete attendance
In everybody's
Funeral
When I won't even be
Present in my own.
I will turn
My light off now.

The skies are flawless tonight,
Like a plum blanket with splotches of tangerine,
They stretch out across the earth;
Embracing and tucking me in.
How I wish they were your arms instead,
Wrapped around me and keeping me cozy.

I hear the chirping of the crickets
With their symphonic chorus soothing my eardrums
As they hum me to sleep.
Nothing could be a lovelier sound;
Except perhaps if I would hear
Your whisper of good night to my ear.

There goes a soft puff of air,
Caressing my face as it flows away;
Taking a little of my weariness with it.
But still, the only thing that could revive
The life that was once in my eyes
Is your kiss good night.

Now I am lying in silence and repose
Beneath the comforts of my home,
With my head wandering among the clouds;
In a lost cause of finding you in my dreams.
As I close my eyes and fall in deep slumber,
I tell the stars to bid you good night.

Brood of the journey,
Offspring of adventure;
Cradled in a crib
Of boat rides and bus drives,
Rocked in time with teenage nursery rhymes,
A million miles per hundred hour,
Marking dashed lines
Across the Philippine map
From Region IV-A
To Region V,
For four summer daysprings
And five summer nightfalls.
My umbilical cord recoiled in loops,
Through the roller coaster road,
Under the waterfall expressways,
Bumper-to-bumper with the hills,
Baby on board;
Pulled in my diesel pushcart,
Back to the womb of my motherland
And into the water that once broke
To give me my own air.
But I haven't breathed better until
Now that I swim again in her salty seasac.
How I have long starved my feet
Of her creamy sand
Which the skin between my toes
Suckle like breastmilk.
How short it has taken
For her colors to change
From seagreen in the dawn,
To aquamarine by ripe daylight,
To turquoise in the afternoon,
And to teal blue by dusk,
Upon having me in her arms.
I was as happy as a clam
When a welcome party was thrown
By the fish residence
And I was reunited
With my crustacean playmates
And their echinoderm pals.
During my stay,
I had the whistles of the sea breeze
As my morning wake-up call,
And by night
The sky is my ceiling,
Decorated with star glitters
And one would fall everytime
To turn off my night light
While the waves would splash
A cool blanket on me.
I would go on treasure hunts
To find the lost seashells;
Raiding coast-to-coast of the boundary,
Declaring tug-of-war,
Jumping in with both feet
And holding my breath,
Fighting the careless Captain Current
And his crew of buccaneers
Attacking in foams and spumes,
And I was unwavering,
Unflagging,
Yanking the *****
To victory.
With Merleau-Ponty,
To be free is to be situated;
But with these marlins,
It is dancing on the ocean floor.
Take it from the jellyfishes
Who just go with the flow
And follow the tide
Whether if it meant
Being washed ashore
Or sinking in the deep,
As long as their tentacles
Are free.
One day I visited
The underwater kingdoms;
Parts of Atlantis
Dispersed into an archipelago.
The Coral Cave,
Land of the soft and stony;
There lives the family
Of jelly-prickled corals
Who are all slimes and tickles,
Among their relatives,
The rose reefs,
Who are red as petals
But rough as thorns.
The Boulder Territory,
A colossal chamber castle
Filled with all the bathroom stones
To scrub your feet with,
But which upon being rushed in
By the cavalry of billows,
One would bruise themself
On the cliff floors
For fear of the enemy,
The barracuda;
Patroling the dark areas
Of the vicinity,
Lying in wait
For its next victim.
In the neighboring island
Just beyond the shoreline,
Is the Seaweed Seabed;
The base plantation
Of the seagrapes,
Natively Philippine Caviar,
Which are saltwater explosives
In the mouth
That come in bunches
Of crunchy, jelly green beads.
Last but not the least,
The Pebble Desert;
A torrid terrain
Of dunes and dunes of pebbles
Pink, peach, and pearl,
Cool in the eyes
As pastel *****
But hot in the feet
As burning coals.
Sometimes we create
The most beautiful things
To be mirrors of ourselves
Modeled from our brokenness
To cast back
A better image of us
In one piece
And be looked at
As something worth loving
If not something perfect,
And God must have been
Truly in smithereens
As to put together
A whole world of a looking glass
Reflecting His divine entirety
For us, His fallible caretakers
To see Him as someone
Worthy of our love,
Aside from perfect.
And I know that
He knows me too well
To know that
What I really mean to say
Is 'I love you'
When I would rather
Simplicity speak for beauty
And let majesty be mystic,
Than bother forcing
Some not-quite words
To fit His creation.
Sadly,
Even the starfish,
The child of the ocean
And the sky,
A blending of two worlds,
Yet still goes out on a limb
To be a part of a third one,
Can't stay too long
Where it doesn't belong,
And we all have to
Go back at some point
To the place
We just couldn't call home
Because we're always looking
For somewhere else.
But I have come to find
That home is not really where,
But who you're with.
So I shall never have to worry
For the Earth is three-fourths water
And the body is fifty percent of it;
The ocean and I
Will always share
The same whole.

I thought I'd be able to sleep
If my thoughts, I refuse to keep.
Now more feelings start to peep;
Making me want to weep.

It's all because of you,
This is all you know to do.
There's nothing new,
You never changed nor grew.

I thought of doing something
To keep this from happening.
But it didn't have any meaning,
To you it was nothing.

It's all pointless.
All that I've done are timeless,
But still, you made it all worthless.
How could you be so heartless?

I can't keep
Regretting
Your dream of us
Never came true
While my dream
For myself
Is being realized
By someone else.

I can't keep
Going back
To our conversations,
Our only memories;
While I move forward
With him
To make the moments
You and I never had.

I can't keep
Confessing
The truth
To the questions
You never asked
While he provides
The same answers
I never got from you.

I can't keep
Telling myself
This is the last time
I will write
About you
While I keep promising
I will write
About him

And you can't keep
Reserving me
With a bookmark
So you can read me
Later for recreation
While he tries
To memorize me
Everyday as a ritual

Shelves, guarding me.
Books, keeping me company.
As I look through the window,
I long to have the wind brush me away
Like how the malunggay plants sway the day,
How the pine tree tricks me when it bends down,
And how the white butterflies gravitate like autumn leaves.
I wish to go outside
And make new friends
And waste whatever's left of me.
But this empty part of the library,
The only place that knows me,
Is where I meet with my best friend time,
And she is the only one to understand my rhymes.

Do crickets scream
Like a trapped firefly
Inside a glass jar,
Blinded by her own light,
Deaf to her own sound,
Needing the darkness for she might
Cave in with only herself around,
Or is it just Jiminy Cricket
I hear losing his singing voice
From the plant outside my room,
Telling me I must stay in this jar
Until I learn how not to
Love the light too much?

The road was wet with rain
And they were sharing the same umbrella.
They were just about to cross the street,
While inside a jeepney I sat in pain;
Staring at the loading area,
Thinking that what have followed him were supposed to be my feet.

At some restaurant in a mall,
They sat, talked, and ate dinner.
They were together from afternoon 'til evening,
While I just came home after a stroll,
Thinking how much she was a winner
For having what I have always been wanting.

He says he had so much fun,
Going from places to places with her.
They had karaoke and then some.
I guess I could start shooting myself with a gun,
Than to tell myself I'm fine, and be a liar.
What is to lose, anyway? I have none.

I guess my role isn't really that good.
I thought being his girl is one thing I wouldn't trade.
But it seems like their roles are better than mine.
They are the ones who can make his mood.
I guess I'd rather be his comrade,
Than to be his girl; for which he has no time.

If I were a greek goddess,
Then I must be Hera;
And he must be Zeus.
I'm jealous, I confess;
Of all the women he was with this era.
I'm the one he loves, but I wonder how long can I be his muse.

Through the moon
upon me,
you gaze some nights
and you, I see
in every star in the sky;
infinite futures ahold
yet no red dwarf
ever carries our own.
Time won't change
tomorrow's face,
no matter the days,
no matter the ways;
from here or Mars,
it won't look like ours.

I want to wear the ocean
and bring waves everywhere I go.
I want to sleep on the clouds
and wake up sunkissed.
I want to grow leaves
and flowers
and fruits,
and shed magnificently in the fall
and blossom sweetly in the spring
and be ripe and fresh in the summer.
I want to befriend whales
and polarbears
and eagles
and be wild and free.
I want to drink the milky way
and glow from the inside.
I want to powder my face with stars
and take people's breaths away.
I want to dye my hair with rainbow
and never have bad hair days again.
I want a voice that sounds like birdcall
and sea breeze
and rain shower,
and sing without ever needing words.
I want to embrace the Earth
and love it like Mother Nature.
I want to die like the moon
and make way for a bright new day.

You're the start and the end of my everyday.
Everything you do and say
Can turn clouds of gray
Into sunshine ray.
You make everything seem perfect in every way,
Like how the sun can make the rain go away.

Out of me, you could make a nun;
And it's me who you always stun.
Because you're a top that gives fun
And I'm the string, around you I've always spun.
And away from you, I could never run,
Like how the earth will always revolve around the sun.

It's me who you always inspire;
And it's you who I will always admire.
In you, I couldn't find anything dire.
You can take away, even my strongest ire.
Because it's only you who can make me retire,
Like how water is the weakness of fire.

You're the only one who came
That made me sing your name;
And I'd rather lose in every game
Than to lose you for fortune and fame.
Because without you, I wouldn't be the same,
Like how a candle would be nothing without a flame.

Never have I let a black cat get in my way,
Never have I turned a horseshoe upside-down,
And never have I looked at a broken mirror;
But yet it seems like black cats insist on getting in my way,
Horseshoes turn themselves upside-down,
And mirrors break themselves, to give me bad luck.

“Don't sweep the floor at night if you don't want to sweep away the fortune,”
“Don't open an umbrella while you're still inside, if you don't want to attract trouble;”
That's what they all say.
But it seems like no matter what I do,
Good luck and good fortune really want to stay away from me,
And misfortune and disaster really want to chase after me.

Every incident turns into accident.
No, it can't be just a coincidence.
I'm jinxed, vexed, and hexed.
Call me anything you want,
It won't change the fact;
I'm hoodooed, and voodooed, and cursed.

But the fortune teller never told me about
How fate would suddenly be on my side this time.
She read my palm
And looked at her crystal ball,
But all she saw
Was my ill-fated future.

But now the wheel of fortune has finally spun;
The one on the bottom is finally on top.
I guess this is the effect of karma.
Destiny has finally decided
To give me something I need more than anything,
And it's none other than a lucky charm.

This lucky charm cannot be worn like a ring, bracelet, or an amulet;
And cannot be stolen like a gem or a stone.
It's something that I am the only one who possess;
For it is not an object, but a person instead.
He's not a genie, a wizard, or anyone who can grant any wish;
Just an ordinary person, with an extraordinary magic.

Bad luck is my twin;
We're together through thick and thin.
But when I'm with him,
It's as if good luck is also with me.
Because he can make such an unfortunate person
Feel even luckier than a lucky charm.

Mild and right,
Just between 212 and 32 degrees Fahrenheit.
With temperate steam,
Giving off a little gleam.
Won't have you scalded,
Won't ever turn frigid.
Won't let you sink,
Will buoy you up when you're on the brink.
Although lukewarm,
Still the farthest thing from numb.
Never half-hearted;
Always spirited.
And I hope as you flow,
Your uniqueness, you won't forget to show.

It is for the reason we think and think and think,
That the finishing line seems to shrink and shrink and shrink.
Their trophies and our consolation prizes, we always link
To the faces of where it matters not if we stink.

We ***** and *****, but never look;
Only offer our eyes to reference books,
Pay our lives to learn how they sit and smile and dress and cook,
When we could carve out crafts of our own on hippocampus walls to hook.

Charts and charts of sound waves go farther than needed into the ear,
But in this statistic, there are more of those which we are deaf to hear.
Then we wonder, perhaps they will listen if we talk our fear through beer.
What we cannot, we must preach, so in the morning it’ll all be clear.

Putting on several mouths, sincerity seldomly salivates in our tongues.
And all we ever scream about, we let clump and clog in our lungs.
Our voices, we swallow, then verbalize universal dung.
Is that easier than to allow our singularity be hung?

To possess such delicate bones under thick coats of flesh and skin,
One little sting, we crumble as if our framework isn't as fortified as tin.
But sometimes when too stung, we rigidify and our cutis turns lean.
Our pores, too open, that even what doesn't exist, we welcome in.

And so, we stick to our lifelong work of homemade bibles,
And add commandments every time we build stables,
Along with valuables from the places in people’s fables.
Only us can decide to make room for new tables.

Somewhere
Along these piles of paper
Scratched and scarred
By pens and pains
That never finish anything,
I was read,
Understood
And continued.

Somewhere
Between conversations
Of screams and whispers
Lost in a sea of words
Meant and made-up,
I was found,
Believed in
And listened to.

Somewhere
In this great big clutter
Of thoughts and memories
Whether strangers or familiars
With futures and histories,
Your mind
Will always recognize
My mind.

I am nowhere lately
Pacing in the city
Closing my eyes
Seeing a desert
Sitting in a cave
Then I'm gone

I am nothing lately
No sound
No feeling
Like embracing the wind
Like thinking you can touch a cloud
Knowing it's just smoke

I am endless lately
Just floating
Slowly dissolving
Now scattered
Are these parts still mine?
Who am I now?

Instead of a red cape is a plain T-shirt and shorts,
Accompanied by a smile that can make a heart fly;
Beneath all this is my superman.
He may not be unbeatable in all sports,
But he doesn't even have to try.
Because no matter what, I'm still his biggest fan.

Laser eyes and X-ray vision,
Or even eyes that could see the future;
These are nothing, compared to his eyes.
Just staring at them gives me satisfaction
Than staring at any other picture.
Because in his eyes, I can see that love lies.

His hands aren't bullet-proof;
They can't stop a crashing plane,
Nor can they bend gold.
But my reasons are way over the roof,
That even through a hurricane,
It's still his hands I want to hold.

Super strength or super speed,
The ability to fly or to travel through time;
All of these, he has none.
But there really is no need;
I'd still write him poems that rhyme
Because his power on me, will never be gone.

So who cares if he really isn't a superhero?
Kryptonian or not,
Still, on Earth he was sent;
Not to be everyone's superman,
But to be my one and only hero.
He's the best weapon I've got.
Lois Lane may have her own Clark Kent,
But I have my own superman.

It's about to be 3am
And you swear you can hear
Your neighbor thrashing
Inside herself
Through the loud bass
Of her sad music.
You've just seen her earlier
Disappearing into her laptop screen
Before you knocked on her door
And she comes out
Greeting you
Before she can even realize
That she's back inside herself
And not lost somewhere
Between the lines of words
That have lives of their own,
Feeding off of her
Until she's no more.
You tell her about the bill
And she fumbles to open the screen
To hear you clearly
Because she forgets she's still here
And she has a neighbor
She shares a water meter with.
She takes the paper off your hands
Reads it and gets some money
And hands you the payment.
You're not sure if she said thank you
Cause she spoke but you didn't hear any words
So you retreat back to your unit
And forget all about her
Until you wake up in the middle of the night
And hear all the words
Her thoughts are screaming out
And you think of all the times you thought
You've seen your neighbor.

Sir James Matthew Barrie;
My childhood savior,
At last we meet.
I embarked on a journey
To seek out what you said
Would be an awfully big adventure
And gracious me, you were more than right!
This is a paradise.
Again, you saved my life.
Thanks for showing me the way out.

I was late,
I couldn't wait to see you;
But the former, more believable
A reason why
I was running the rest of the way
To the house.
I almost cried
First when grandma hugged me,
Second when I thought about it,
Third when we crossed the highway
And you did not hold my hand
Not because there was now a traffic light posted there,
Nor because I now wear my hair red and my eyes lined;
But because all three reasons,
You would rather not believe
Before you even hear,
Than look at me again
And know who to believe.

Bleed before I eat,
I must make the carvings deep,
Then cram 'til they fade.

I thought I might need a shield,
For you might fire at any moment.
But just when I've prepared a gun,
You have raised a white flag.

I thought we already had a truce,
So I thought it's safe to put my guard down.
But I was the last to know
About your surprise attack.

I started shooting arrows,
Firing bullets,
And slashing swords;
But they have no effect on your thick armour.

I thought my plan wouldn't fail,
So I charged without a back-up plan.
But I didn't know you have your own schemes too,
So I fell into my own traps.

Giving up wasn't part of my plan;
So is losing my anger and pride.
But now the war has finally ended;
And again, I have lost against you.

You rode an airplane horse
Like Joan of Arc and her hope
With Princess Julia and Prince Justin,
Flew away from our bleak archipelago,
Across this continent of the smooth-skinned
To meet the King, your love,
For a quest to raise again our royal family,
And brought rain to Dubai.
You have rained on Dubai;
Brought the ocean to their deserts,
Watered their artificial plants,
Glistened their rough highways,
Bathed the Arabs,
Moisturized their dry skin,
And taught them to dance in the puddles.
You have rained on Dubai,
And took with you my Philippine sun.
Now I sit here in my desk;
A withered bud in the Land of the Orient Pearl,
Staring at this snow globe you left
With glitter orbiting the Burj Al Arab,
Watching over you from this crystal ball,
Waiting for you to leave the Gulf States,
And bring the rain back here.

You cannot die on me,
Let us dive right into your fears.

You cannot die on me,
I cannot save who does not cry for help.

You cannot die on me,
I have not even touched you yet.

You cannot die on me,
It is the good part you will miss.

You cannot die on me,
My fins and tail cannot be with no owner.

You cannot die on me,
This is my sea, I will let us both breathe.

You cannot die on me,
I have turned into your life vest.

You cannot die on me,
I will follow you eitherway.

You cannot die on me,
I will not give up this daydream.

You cannot die on me,
I have stayed alive for you.

I am a grayed rose in a black and white world; afloat on a pond of serenity and solitude.
My petals, drifting aimlessly about the cold; a part of me stays everywhere I lurk.
My leaves; a reminder of what raised me up, I keep close to my parts.
My thorns, disentangled from my soul; I let flow along the stream of the old.
My roots, my source of power; I can no longer hold on to.
But withal the blows of change and time,
I shall be firmer than oak,
And bear on blooming and burst forth
Colors and beauty and the scent of love
Out in the open, out in the wild;
Out in the earth of torment and beguiling eyes,
And shan't wither under any weather.
I am a grayed rose in a black and white world;
Slowly reviving all the life that I lost.

The books are wrong;
Samson is not his name,
But his last name.
Strength is his identity,
Though Jaime is what they call him.
He did not die lonely,
Nor will he ever do.
Regina Spektor got it right somehow,
As how people never do the first time;
A woman broke his heart
Whose name I cannot confirm to be Delilah,
She could have been anyone in his past.
But he married a woman named Michelle
And borne love by four beautiful children
With one which I know very well
And sometimes feel as if she were me
Or I were her.
But in his eyes I could not tell if I were her
Or she were me.
In fact, I could not see myself at all,
As if I am only, in those eyes,
A ceiling to keep from falling;
A mere test of strength,
Held up by pillars of sacrifice
And blocks of responsibility.
But I must be something else,
For there was something more
Than my nothingness in those eyes
Which keeps me from falling,
Besides those powerful hands
That steady the blocks
And secure arms
That lock the pillars;
It was his love regardless of who I am
That holds my blocks up
And embraces my pillars close;
His love which need me not contained in his eyes
For I am already contained in his heart.
I guess the writings on the wall
Failed to let us all know
That the great Samson's weakness
As well as source of strength,
Is not his hair
But his heart beneath that hard chest.
And so the legend goes,
Not with Samson's great strength,
But with his love as a husband
Which can cure a whole hospital
And as a father
Which can withstand all torture.
And his story will be told;
His love will be passed on
By his children to their children,
And they will live forever
In the name of his glory,
In the name of his triumph
Over the prophecy's false tragedy.
And not a soul will not know
Of how Jaime – the real Samson,
Was the strongest man of all.

Young little bud
with thorns they ache.
You bleed life
in order to grow.
I know it hurts
to keep yourself closed
when you just want to bloom
like the rest of them
and you can't cause pain
as much as you can feel it
when you remain wreathed in a shrub
and pose in a bright color
while everything happens inside of you.
You may think there's something wrong with you
because you don't get picked by people
but not all seeds sprout right after sowing
and you may not see the sunlight yet
but at least you can feel the morning dew
and the world has yet to see you
and you have all the world to see
so take your time
and keep your stem long
for even the seasons will wait
however long it takes
for a young little bud to unfold.

Do I dive to the ocean floor
or seek the edge of the world?
And will this heart of gold
sink or float?
I tell myself
with my blood as my ink,
I have my soul to keep;
now I’m at the tip of the quill
but the slate’s wiped clean.
When there’s nothing left
but the other side,
is there nothing else to do
but go there?

I won't tell them
about how we exchanged thoughts
like sinners confessing
to God Himself,
like bride and groom
delivering their vows
for the first time.

I won't tell them
about how you kissed,
like you were peeling me
of all the people
I wore on my skin
until I'm a newborn again
and how I kissed back
as if my teeth were syringes
and your blood
is what would keep me alive.

I won't tell them
about how we made love
like a time bomb
detonating
over and over,
killing nothing
but space and time.

I won't tell them
how each word is a song
and each song is a serenade
and each serenade is a promise
and each promise is another day.

But I will tell them
how I held the rest of my life
everytime our fingers crisscrossed
as if the lines on our palms
connected like stars aligning
to give the universe a sign
of a divine intervention.
And I will tell them someday
that your eyes were crystal *****
that showed me my future
so I always knew I'd be with you.

I am but the seed
of a fruit all finished up,
with all my wisdom eaten away
left with nothing but the husk
of what I used to be
so bury me in the dirt
with the hope that I will grow
once again into a tree
ripe with glory and promise.