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pat v Aug 2020
Ang nakaupong tiwali—
siya ang binoto ng masa.
Sa manggas ng kanyang barong,
panganib ng maralita

May kinang ang kan’yang ngiti
mapungay ang mga mata
Sa bawat pangakong lahad
ay pagsibol ng pag-asa.

Pag-asa na tayo'y ligtas
ay naging katakot-takot.
Para raw sa Inang Bayan,
peligro na nakabalot.

Ang salitang bulaklakin
ay daglian ding nalanta
kapalit ang pagtungayaw,
at banta ng direktiba.

Hindi natin inasahan—
bahid ng dugo sa daan.
Mga kamay, nahugasan
ngunit hindi ang lansangan.

Sa lapida nakaukit
ngalan ng mga biktima.
Sunod kayang tatahimik
ang silang may pinupuna?

Hapis ng inang nawalan,
“Crispin, Basilio, anak ko,”
oyayi ng Inang Bayan.
“Pasismo! Peligro rito!”
pat v Nov 2020
love was she, in its purest form
but the mere vice of loving stirs a thousand storms
for the love that he labors, the love that he tries
cannot compare to the love in her eyes
not sure if you noticed, but its about love
pat v Oct 2021
the analogies i've long written
for you that are not known
you read from a different author
like a seed that i've not sown

castles that have long crumbled
you built again for someone new
but the paradise that ive conceived
has always been for you
pat v Sep 2020
rose gold in black marble hues,
like the sun in cloud-casted blues.
she is held as a precious gem
more valuable than the rarest of jewels.

she is the sun you gaze up with ardor;
her orange glow brews in your noons.
and when night interlaces with day
she turns to the beaconing moon.

i am no more than a star celestial—
only fractions of day do i appear.
and even so as twilight falls,
pollution blends with the atmosphere.

proficient main lead, front row seat
she is a prominent role in your play
yet in the background i stand once more
in the analogy of night and day.
i dug up this poem from 2017???
pat v Aug 2020
have you taken to the stars, oh darling
vulnerable and heart in tow
or is it you who the stars take to
to tell folks which way they must go?
pat v Apr 2021
Some battles are so intense
That we lose in love, they say
But we often refuse to accept
That truly loving is this way.

In love, we count our losses
that our bare backs dare to hold
and find each one heavier than the last
as though we lose tenfold.

And yet the sacrifices made inevitable
are ones often unreciprocated
And make us question our innocent selves
of why we even made it.

But love is love, as they often say
And we lose ourselves when it is true,
But how much is lost is merely dictated
by the choices made by you.

— The End —