It is not the amount of time shared
the amout of tears shed,
or the laughter lines that embed:
it is the cold, demeaning dread
that encircles my head
whenever our time together
ends.

- PMT

Kinikilig pati ang mga butuin
Sa saliw ng iyong boses na malambing
Nakadungaw sa bintana
kahit lahat sila'y nakahimbing
May kaba sa damdamin
Paano bukas lahat sila'y magagalit?
Si ama , hahabulin ka ng itak
Natawa na lamang
Ang mga braso ko'y hinatak
Naglapit ang mga muka
Muntik ng atakihin sa kaba
Ang puso ko ata ay nahulog
Nang si bantay ay umalulong
Dali-dali ay nagtago
Tinginan nati'y di pa rin nagbabago
"Kailangan ko nang bumalik sa silid."
ang wika ko
Sabay dagling humalik sa sinta ko



-Tula VII, Margaret Austin Go

Of earthbound lovers in repose
darkness awakens dreams for those

who in their arrogance sleep so well
with their sinuous curves that writhe in hell

fleeting words leap to a tragic death
off the end of a sentence’ precipice

spoken by guardians of empty spaces
who's wings are clipped by periphrasis

writing ghazals that shadows recite
to ghosts whom gather to find respite

yet these mortal instruments of a souls confession
are sung to the Beloved for intercession

still enlightened fools, in darkness will part
with the keys to unlock another's heart

Spires of ice from obsidian skies
land and melt in the warmth of their eyes,

drowning their captains in waves of emotion,
so two continents drift and collide in the ocean

Beloved, I take refuge in the stronghold of *Your love.

Even shadows choose to whirl
lithely in the beams,
romancing other silhouettes
seeking revelation in their dreams.

Compassion, do not hasten them,
nor wake them from repose
for in the moment two dreams alight
the awoken lover glows.

Stand boldly in love’s mystery
as slings and arrows sail,
through the strident journey
hush, listen for the nightingale,

who’s song seeps through a cloven heart,
mending fragments into one;
seek the source that hides unbroken
in the brilliance of the Beloved’s Sun.

Beautiful mosaic
Of a fragmented heart
Made of clay and
And broke apart.

Parched by drought
What more brings rain
to remembrance
of the Beloved’s name.

It is in my silence
that You hear
how my burning thirst
mouths a drought of tears.

Hearts pump harder
when we bleed, as
Absence sounds the hollows
Of the waiting reed.

Into enormity of emptiness,
the vastness of the beloved to disclose
The sweetest water ever sipped
– by the lovers parched and longing lip –
is the fragrance of the wine red rose.