Napa-ibig ako sa aking kinakaibigan.
Sa una siguro’y ang pakiramdam ay magaan.
Nagkakilala ng basta-basta, walang dahilan.
Siguro dahil na rin sa  mabuting kapalaran.

Isang araw’y nalaman ko,
Magkapit-bahay lang pala kami.
Lalong nagkalapit ang puso’t damdamin.
Makalipas ang isang taon ng pagkikilala,
Sa dami ng tambay, kain, at gala,
Sa problema ng tropa o kaya’t sa pamilya,
Sa ngiti at ngisi sa bawa’t asaran,
Sa halip na ika’y may pagkasira,
Sa iyong puso na palaging hinihiwa,

Naroon ako sa iyong tabi,
Unti-unting napapangiti,
Napapamahal,
Nahuhulog ang dibdib,
Sa iyong pagkatao’t diwa.

Naaalala ko pa noong ika-siyam ng Mayo,
Bago matapos ang taon ng pag-aaral,
Sa isang buwan magkakahiwalayan na,
Magkokolehiyo na’t iiwan ang mga pinagdaanan.
Umiyak ka sakin habang nakain pa ng pakwan.
Na natatakot lang magsimula ulit,
Na makaranas ng bagong landas,
Na magbago, at maging kung sino man.
Na mahal mo ang iyong mga kaibigan,
Na ayaw mo silang iwanan.

Sinabi ko sayo,
Ika’y minamahal,
Ika’y itinatangi.
Ngunit hindi ko masabi,
Na ako ang magmamahal,
Ako ang magtatangi sa’yo.
Kaya ako’y gumawa ng katwiran,
Na kaming mga kaibigan mo,
Ay naririto lamang.

Ang pag-ibig ay parang nota,
Sa musika ng tadhana,
Sa teatro ng buhay.
Ito’y maligaya,
Upang hikayatin,
Ang ating puso na makinig.
Ngunit hindi kang saya ang ipinaparating.
Kundi’ hirap, lungkot, at paghihinagpis.

Parang emosyonal na gitara,
Na minsan nasisira,
Napuputol ang kwerdas,
Nasasaktan ang kamay,
Nalulumbay sa tono,
Habang humihiyaw,
Kumakanta ng buong puso,
Para sa ating mga sinta.

Dumating ang Agosto,
Miyerkules ng unang linggo,
Sa ika-beintidos ko nalaman,
Na galing pa sa iyong dila,
Na ako’y huli na sa paligsahan,
Na mayroon ng nanalo sa laban.
Ang puso mo’y nasagip na ng iba,
Ika’y nagkwento ng matagal-tagal.
Ang ningning sa iyong mata’y,
Parang ilaw sa entablado,
Nakikita ko ang mga sumasayaw,
Ligaya ang aking nararamdaman,
Habang ang aktor ay ako,
Na iyong tinitigan ng husto.
Pinipilit makinig nang maigi,
Sa kwentong busilak ng pag-ibig.

Ngunit pagkatapos ng kwento,
Naiwan akong mag-isa.
Sumigaw ng wala sa tono,
Sa kanta na puro hiyaw.
Hindi ko inakala,
Na ang kanta ko’y ganito,
Naisulat na ang mga nota,
Ngunit bakit masakit sa tenga?
Sa simula ng ika’y makita,
Nagsimula na ang tugtog.
Ngunit hindi ikaw ang aking kasayaw,
Hindi rin naiwasang mahulog.
Kahit pigilan ko man ang sarili,
Ako’y nahatak ng iyong tunog.
Magaling ka sumagaw,
Kwento mo’y ako’y napaikot.

Napapaisip ako,
Anong nangyari,
Bakit natapos,
Ang ating kanta.
Ng wala man lang paalam.
Ika’y bumula.
Nawala sa aking buhay.
Na para bang multo.
Hindi ko malapitan,
Mahawakan,
Matawag,
Ni mabanggit ang iyong pangalan.
Nawala ang ating teatro,
Nagkahiwalagan ang magkaibigan,
Ang direktor ay lumisan,
Upang maiwasan ang drama.

Napapaisip ako ngayon,
Bakit ikaw pa rin sa ngayon!
Ikaw na multo ng nakaraan,
Ang aking minamahal hanggang ngayon.

what could empty you?
          in the weight
of our divines
the un    thinking
deep within us
strokes of pure spirit
      our fleeting fall


labour — the early war;
                 original sin
in between the earth and sky
            is the shade
            of the galaxy
why limit sorrow?
why blank the source?
             conquered,
             we go on
and put life first


ignore the    remnant artifacts
                      merciless undoings
turned pools,
                      nudge    of time
ordinary notes of care
unleashed poisons
etched
into skin

history’s suitor to time,
         shards,
                      debris
remember   remember
           remember
the blank silence echoing

days go on,
        fewer,
               sleep escaping
crying out
                   it was a home.


cursed nights into mornings,
         who can make of this?
what once was theirs,
          whatever is left?


emptied, murdered, obliterated
             an annihilation
of the ego
              the anguish,
                     the anguish

eyes still seeing last touch
feeling
ancient alone abandoned
what is a year
              a month
               a decade
but a moment?


—lost and burned
            futile devices,
fervour’s writing

mailed to the void

and the sea?
        the sea?

the saltwater dead, my love,
the saltwater dead

the last great epitaph
of our love:

           i am nobody
           i am nobody
           and you
           are gone

oh, August, a season deceased,
tell me again
the hieroglyph
of your name

weep weep weep the whole world
cry the whole cycle of darkness and light
and the whole azure of heaven and all the azure
and all the books that were on the bookshelf
on the shelf that burned then in august
when attacking death on our house

scatter the same voices last fatal
be carried away and carried all around
do not give air to all this here
do not give the sky and do not give more papers
do not dictate any more of these strange words
perhaps the land is worth and it will be necessary to stop

and right now and at this very moment
and it is at this hour this month in this year
all stopped what it means stopped even then
then when august was next to me when the books were
when the whole world was not even in the flames at all
when the bookcase was with me and the leaves did not sob

11.09.18

i got comfortable
i was foolish
i let you slip
between my fingertips
i didn’t know
i didn’t know
i was so naïve
so enraptured by
my careless thoughts
and dreams
of a lifetime with you
that i forgot
a lifetime is shorter than a long time
is shorter than forever
is shorter than expected
i don’t know what i expected
but it wasn’t this
and oh, how i miss
the gentle sound of your voice
the sway of your body
the sparkle in your eyes
you
you
you
i’m sorry

the sequins that danced so prettily around his waist
made up for the lack of stars in the light polluted sky
i feel like sometimes it’s better to be trapped in the dark
if it means that all the light in the world resides in his eyes
i never want to think of what could happen if that light went out
i don’t know if i’d be able to keep safe and sound
everything in life is tiring enough as it is
even with those reflective hues of gold
but beneath those bright irises
lies sad blues of stories untold
won’t you stick around a little while longer?

drinking from grounded reflections
of a flightless sunset
who casts mirages set in stone,
daydreaming clouds alone
punctuate skies in perfection
as much as in sweet regret.

smeared upon the flat face of the sky,
forming withered smiles,
a cirrus in august breathes,
meandering through leaves
who whistle and sigh with our nigh
ending dreams juvenile

and scales of gray and gold evade
questions asked from below,
instead recalling masses
who cloak skies in ashes,
a stratus, nature’s renegade
and need, who drowns wholesome glows.

so idle passions retire
as the uncertainties
which animated our dreams
are doused in conscious streams
and with life ignite a fire
kindled within fantasies

spending hours reading the still clouds
wavering only when
our eyes are cast far away.
draped curtains steal last days.
so time drowns, a voice in a crowd
not unlike myself back then

The very end of August
Brings a stillness in the night,
When the many trills of midsummer
Are silenced and the fireflies gone out!
Lying stilly and listening, I hear
A solemn drone, like an old contralto,
Trying to warble but instead
Radiating an insistent hum
That thrums athwart the arid air,
Long fingers scraping a humming tanpura.
Even the full moon is dry,
Gazing down, matter-of-fact,
Through the dust-like mist.
Summer has given up,
Letting leaves and vines dry up,
Tinged with red and shriveled bronze.
I could walk in the garden now,
And not worry about slugs on
The dried stalks of lilies.
The robust asters offer little
Temptation to garden  pests
And strapping thistles seem to stand guard.
Is the balance between my will
Over the garden and its desire
To overflow and bloom beyond me,
Now achieved yet unwanted?
Yes…I prefer the lushness that comes
After the rains, with an untamed riot
Of color and green, the celebration
That happens on its own, heedless
Of my wishes; yet I revel in it
Every time it wins
And will wait a year
For this to emerge again.

We were at the table
It was quite loud there
But at that time it didn't bother me.
The smell of the August rain
Your presence and those endless talks
It really seemed like happiness is easy.
The morning came quickly and i had to leave
I took one more glance at your face and left...
Did you knew?
Back then I've had fallen for you from your first smile.