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From what I see,
you are better off
without me.
In life, everything is a choice
To wear pants or shorts
To exercise or to stay fat

Choose to study or slack off
To text back or just ignore
Do a movie marathon or to read a book all day

In life, everything is a choice
And I choose to love you
Even if it is a risk I have to take
Ako’y modernong karpintero
Sa henerasyong baon sa utang,
Hindi pa man isilang,
Ang kamalaya’y limot at simot na.

Puros kalyo ang latay
Sa pares na kamay
Na ang sigaw ay pagbabago
Diktahan man kahit demokrasya pa,
Lahat tila may mantsa’t tatak pulitika.

May direksyon ang pagdisenyo
Pahalang sa kapwa-tao,
Samantalang ang kabila’y
Ang labi’y eksperto sa pagsayad sa lupa
Patungo sa ulap at bituin
Kung saan naroon raw ang Maykapal.

Narito ako sa kanilang tagpuan
Tatawid sa kalyeng hindi masilayan
Bingi sa sanlibutan
Minsang pinaligua’t sinabunan ng kadiliman.

Narito ako,
Sa sentro’y may hanap-hanap
Kilabot ng pagtahi sa sugat ay titiisin.
Pagkat ang latay, hindi man nasaksihan
Ramdam maging sa tadyang
Na akin daw ay pinagmulan.

Kung mararapatin lamang
Ng lupang minsa’y naging gintong bayan
Na pang-habambuhay siya’y lisanin
At sa pagbukang-liwayway, tatakbo sa Liwanag.

Walang karapatan ang takipsilim na uminda
Pagkat ang Haring Araw
Sisikat at yuyupakan ang kanyang dangal,
Siyang isang pobre’t salat sa Katotohanan.

Niyapos ko ang buhok
At pinahid sa mansanas, sa mangga’t
Maging sa dagat na sagisag ng kalayaan.

Ako’y tumakas
Tangan ang sandata ng buhay;
Pakuwari ko’y walang himagsikan
Ang siyang muling sisiklab
Pagkat ang laban ay tapos na noon pa man.

Puting papel at plumang walang tinta
Ang iniwan sa akin ng Ama
Hindi ko mawari sa paanong paraan ba
Maililimbag ang isusulat nitong pluma.

Ngunit ang tukso
Na madungisan ang pahinang puti
Ang puro’t walang bahid ng itim at kulay bahaghari,
Alam ko, balang araw
Mapupunan ito, hindi ng salita
Bagkus ng larawang sa sansinukob
Ay hahagkan ang bawat nilalang
Itatas muli ang bandila -
Silang puro ang tiwala sa Pintor ng Pagbabago.

(5/23/14 @xirlleelang)
Daybreak
Is a daily baptism:

Small town bubble bursting

At the seams
To find young schoolchildren
Heaving their bags
And heading off to school,

Soft rooster crows
Slowly replaced by the
Smiling whistles
Of traffic guards

Who know each of us
By face.
"I could
tie a plastic zip tie to my wrist
real tight until the veins pop out
just like a blood test
when the nurse
ties your arm with a rubber band.
All so that i could pull a blade
from its dull rotten scabbard,
purposely rusty but very sharp
and slice right through the plastic
into my pale green flesh.
Make it look like an accident,
An act of carelessness,
A fools play time with plastic and knives."

Today was the first time,
in a very long time,
to re-entertain dark mischievous
thoughts.
Thoughts on taking what wasn't,
isn't, and won't ever be
Mine to begin with--
My Life.

It is owned by,
represented with
three circles:
Red, Blue, and Yellow.
But it,
I,
was never fully accepted,
almost shedding tears
in a cell full of strangers,
strangers i somehow knew
but
Strangers all the same.

What got me through
was a hopeful bubble
that at each day's end,
I'm reincarnated into a different world,
A virtual one,
Escaping my past life of which I am residing in.
    
     An assasin running through rooftops,
     A lone wolf learning to survive in a fictitious world,
     A super soldier shooting bad guys all night long
     Or straight up controlling the mind of a completely different being
     (Thank the heavens for video games).

But this is in no way
A solution.
It is temporary,
not an end
to a new beginning.
(1:30 AM/ Brownout)

Ang alab Mo’y minsang inalay sa’kin
Syang naging mitsa ng pagkandirit ng himagsikan.

Ako’y nakakapaso
Magbibigay-liwanag sa madilim na kinagisnan,
Sa apat na sulok ng silid-aralan,
Sa lipunang may mabigat na ginagampanan
Tangan ang alab na umalarma sa pagkatao.

Nilisan ko ang liwanag
Kung saan akala ko’y dapat na maging kasanayan.
Ako’y Iyong tinubos
Sa mapanghusgang lipunan
May tatak sa noo, syang bukambibig ng madla
Salamat, nang ako’y maging pag-aari Mo
Nang ako’y pagharian Mo.

Gamitin Mo ako,
Pagkat ang liwanag, ang katuturan
Kailanma’y hindi mapupunan ng anumang salita
Nang sinuman..
Kung ang alab ay hindi Ikaw ang sentro
At kung ang lakas ay hindi mula Sayo.

Sukat ang buhay ko
Bawat luha ko, akala ko’y walang silbi’t walang kwenta
Ngunit iniipon Mo pala ang bawat butil nito
Minsan pala’y nakapapaso rin ito
Isalin **** muli, buohin Mo’t ihulma ang pagkatao.

Sayang..
Kung ang ilaw ay nakakahon
Kung ang sisidlan ko’y hindi ko lilisanin
Kung ang sarili’y hindi kikitilin
Nang magkaroon ng pangalawang buhay.

May ilang gagambala
Mga insektong hindi alam kung saan nagmula
Mamumuhunan sila’t magiging igno sa liwanag
At kung di lalakas ang alab,
Ako pala’y matutupok.

At sa hanging iihip,
Kung wala ang mainit na mga kamay
Na siyang yayakap at hahagkan sa akin
Ako’y maagang mahihimlay,
Mawawalang saysay ang pagkatubos sa akin.

Ngunit ang alab na ito’y
Kitilin man: kusa man at sa walang dahilan
Maari pang mabuhay, sa ikalawang pagkakataon
Sisindihang muli,
Luluha sa hapdi’t kirot ng kahapon
Ngunit ang bukas ay may kasiguraduhan
Na ang tatahakin ay hindi na tulad nang ngayon.

Binibilang na ang oras
Bawat minuto’t segundo
Maaring mapagal at maagang tamlayin,
Kung saan saksi ang kadiliman sa liwanag na taglay.

Ngunit bago maupos,
Ako’y may aabutin
Bawat sulok ay dadampian ng buhay
At magmamarka sa bawat haligi
Na kahit sa dilim, mayroong palang pag-asa.

(5/13/14 @xirlleelang)
Eventually the moon loses its shine over time.
It dims and then fades; nature's greatest crime.
The van Gogh you desired turns dim, then black.
It's lost in the memories you won't get back.

The stars you wished on burned out in the sky.
Falling like tears that you refused to cry.
Splattered like a Pollack, then erased from sight,
Left alone to ponder your life in the night.

It may be darkest before the dawn.
But all of your dreams seem to be gone.
You're channeling your inner Picasso blue,
But dreaming of what else there is to do.

Your easel is life, your brush be your decision.
Will your masterpiece come from perfect precision?
she’s not allowed to care anymore
but she can’t help the dent
that became a valley
before she was able to recognize and trace
every sharp edge and every flat surface
every sudden drop and slow crack
with her fingertips, covering
it will take time
but the real question is
will
she
try?
Some days I can't write
I won't write. takes
too much heart
too much sacrifice
too much sorting through places of  my mind
I swore I'd let alone, leave be

let me be
leave me be
alone


then,
no.
Fight. Alone is dangerous

alone is an open door
alone is locking yourself in with a dragon
so I will pick up first,
my heart
then my courage
then my fingers

though cut up
and open
bleeding rivers

I will then pick up my pen
and write.

there is still so much more I need to tell you.
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