our eyes closed at the same moment
where we were greeted by azure skies humming to the ocean's hymn
soft streaks of sunlight kissing our skin gently
and the warmth of sand seeping into our bodies

i open my eyes
but instead of the ocean's melody,
or the tender touch of sunlight on a beach long forgotten,
we sit in a drab, grey room
hands held tightly in seance

your eyes remained closed
the hint of a smile touching your lips
and when i closed my eyes again
i was greeted by a black screen
and the whispers of a soul long forgotten

we are not so different –
the sky and i
with tears we replenish what is most fundamental
for her, the earth
for me, my soul
but its abundance may **** what it's trying to revive

i fear the Summer
for Dawn arrives early and her touch that rouses the sky
sends you promptly to sleep
while i am left alone in this blinding light

i fear the Autumn
for when she approaches,
the leaves that conceal my longing for your embrace
gently fall to the terrain underneath

i fear the Winter
for she strips me naked
and destroys the guise i made from the canopy of my brethren –
the canopy that shielded my grotesque body and gnarled veins from your gaze

and i mostly fear the Spring
for when the evening comes and the Wind sings her tune,
sweeping my leaves into her trail,
i wish for her to carry them to you
where i am reminded once more that nothing on this land can reach you
during the night
(since this burning desire that shall remain as it is will never curtail our distance)
and moreso during the day
(when you slowly fade from my sight)

Hindi ako mahal.
Hindi ako ang mahal.

Isang salita lang ang dumagdag ngunit parang isang katutak na patalim ang pinukol sa aking puso
Pigang piga sa paulit-ulit na pananaksak, pagsasawalang bahala
Hanggang sa maging abo nalang ang dating apoy na nagbabaga
at ang mga dating "Tama na," "Ilan pa ba," ay nagiging "Sino ba siya?"

Sa paulit-ulit na pagwasak sa puso kong dati nang durog,
at sa ating mga pagsasama kung saan ang kanyang pangalan ang tanging tunog
Walang tigil ang hangin sa pag-duyan ng isang paumanhin
sa pag-ihip papunta sa puso kong kapos ng iyong pag-tingin —

Mahal, huwag kang humingi ng tawad
dahil hindi lang ikaw ang nagwasak sa akin
Huwag na huwag kang humingi ng tawad
dahil lang siya ang iyong iniibig
Huwag ka nang humingi ng tawad
dahil lang hindi mo ako kayang mahalin.

today, the clouds are crying in rage
i observe the embankment where grey water is flowing over
consuming the city with its anger
and i watch this all unfold (water begins to touch my feet)
but i do not worry about you:
i have no need to do so.

your clouds never seethe
the endless stretch of land and sky between us agree
you exist in a place where Babylon never existed –
but instead of seeking the heavens
i remember beating the earth until the soil bathed in blood;
i begged for it to let you go
(who enjoys a place free of sores?)
but as water seeps through the cracks of my home
touching the furniture you once touched
destroying my abode like you did with your absence
and people fleeing, leaving houses;
i am in awe of you:
how does one retain their wit even in death?

you escaped the worst.

limampung pulgada ang pagitan ng ating upuan
limampung pulgada na tila parang isang kilometro ang distansyang kinakailangang tahakin
upang maipatong ang braso sa pahirabang nakaumbok sa gitna ng ating luklukan,
kung saan ang iyong braso'y nakapatong rin.

apatnapung pulgada nang sumara ang ilaw kasabay ng aking mga mata
kung saan sinakop tayo ng karimlang mas madilim pa sa kalagitnaan ng takipsilim
ngunit ako'y nakatayo, naglalakad na patungo sa'yo –
mga kamay na kinakapkap ang malalambot na pulang ulo
sakaling ako'y mahulog dahil ang ninanais kong sumalo sa akin
ay apatnapung pulgada pa ang layo.

(tatlumpu, dalawampu, sampu)
bawat tapak na nanatiling tahimik, maingat.
(siyam, walo, pito)
natatanaw kita sa halip ng dilim kung saan wala talagang makita, makilala.
(anim, lima, apat)
para bang lahat ng puso sa silid ay nagsabayan sa pag sigaw.
(tatlo, dalawa, isa)
nasa tabi na ki–

bumukas ang mga ilaw, kasabay ng aking mga mata;
pumalakpak ang lahat.

Limampung pulgada pa rin ang pagitan ng ating upuan.

you know it's happening again
when sad songs form their own memories
when paper and pen create revered pieces from shattered ones;
tears fusing with words,
letting you break free from tight bounded ropes masked as euphoria;
the dark recesses overflowing with raw melancholy, tearstained shirts, and forlorn tunes.

you know it's happening again
when your chest feels like an empty cavern
stretching upward, beyond –
reaching the darkest pits of the cave
with the single noise a sigh resounding
from its lips high above and far away,
reminding me of yours
where it can't be reached, can't be touched
with my fingers,
with my own.

many a time it has happened before
but my dear, my sweet,
how many times have you heard this yet still remains unheard:
you must get used to it.

Minamahal kita
subalit hindi ko ito ikukumpara
sa mga tala, sa alon;
Hindi ko ito ikukumpara
sa mga bagay na karaniwang ginagamit sa tula
sa bango ng bagong pitas na rosas
sa apoy na walang tigil sa pag alab.
Minamahal kita
nang hindi ko ito ikukumpara sa mga iyon
o sa kahit ano.

Minamahal kita dahil sadyang mahal kita —
sa katwirang hindi maikukumpara ang aking nararamdaman
sa mga bagay na natatanaw, nahahawakan.
Minamahal kita dahil sadyang mahal kita
walang tulad-tulad
walang mga talang kumikinang at along humahaplos
walang rosas na kasing bango ng kawalan ng alinlangan
walang apoy kung saan ang usok ay kumakaway sa mga ulap
at hindi na matanaw.

Minamahal kita
at hindi ko ito ikukumpara sa kahit ano.  

Minamahal kita

My back on the ground, I wonder if they are jealous of us
With our limbs, we can move around
With statures fated into static, they can only watch

To stand still and tall – to exhale the air we breathe;
Helpless when cut down,
Screams silent when we take their homes, when we trample their kind –
Are they jealous of us,
that we can speak and walk and protect our own?

Yet is there really something to be jealous of
When voices are used to injure –
to implant thoughts in minds that can spur deadly actions;
When the ability to protect is used only for our own skin –
to turn a blind eye to things that don't affect us directly (and seek comfort in its blissful ignorance);
When havoc is wreaked with every step we take – and be so unaware of it?

Have we gone tired of killing those who are sessile – of those who don't fight back that we have turned to each other?
Are we living in a world where those who aren't human are more humanlike?
Is this what humanity is all reduced to now – so preoccupied with trying to **** one another that we fail to notice the larger picture –
that we don't have to **** him, her, or them,
because when we cut them down all those years ago,
we have already killed ourselves?

In the background, they are silent but laughing. Fools, they think as we swing our swords around like toothpicks — oblivious to the groans the ground is letting.

I think so too.