Five summers, four lovers
and three checkbooks ago,
I've been here, as I am today.
Same corner, same shade of gloomy day,
and about the same volume of falling rain,
still a one-call-away favorite friend of pain.
Only now I am much more
clever and conniving,
more calculating
and dare I say,
more frightening.
My approaching steps are the pitter-patter
of the storm starting,
the thundering warning of my arrival
is Manila's hour rushing.
Words from my lips
are news you'd rather miss,
however I can't say the same
about my infamous kiss.
I am older, and longer are my to-do lists.
My patience is longer,
but my heart no longer sighs or beats.

A place of silence
the bed of an exhausted runlet
parched and windless
it can make us remember
the part when we touched
some of us used it as a mirror once
saw in its rippling
the shimmering scales
of fleshed out time
it seemed real
it's frightening to realize it's real
we can recall when the never-ending flow
is exhilarating
alive
unlike other mysterious phenomena
now everything seems irretrievable
though we can still vaguely
hear its voice
in our lives
everyone carries with them
a streamlet
but we never want to be clear
about the existence
and future of the stream bed.

Half a year has passed
Love has been recalled
and lives have been lost
Hearts have been split in halves
Lessons learned, wages earned
More questions left unanswered
Am I getting older
or just getting used to it?
Am I growing wiser
or just getting my old self back?
But all the love I think I gave to people,
out to the bigger world,
I need a little bit of that back for myself.
Even just for a little while.
I need some kind of balance
or even an illusion thereof.
Am I becoming stronger
or getting more careless?
Am I getting smarter
or just getting sheer luck?
Yet all the lessons I thought I learned
from all the people I gave my love to,
I think I didn't really need them.
All I needed was to do it myself.
Like I always do.
Is the earth getting warmer
or is my skin growing thicker?
Are my dreams becoming closer
or I just couldn't care less any longer?
More questions will be asked
and will be left unanswered.

The height of summer
days become the hot embracing
during
passionate love making
it's hard to breathe
torso behaves like pancake
tossing and turning on the mattress
body is a fire spitting dragon
roasting every corner of the bed
or the grill if you will
mosquitoes are lions on the savanna
lying in wait by the river
so many spots to start
cravings dragged toward the abyss
to drink in the sweetened coolness
birds in the tree
screaming from the heat
leaves curled up and blinded in fear
the earth is a fresh bun in the steamer
flowers faint left and right
amidst smell of charring
the sun laughs loudly
sending chills down some spines
when i see a lake i wanna dive in
i don't care about the gossip
or the hazard at the deepest
I'm a cheater that's been cheating
beyond the worldly paradigm
tears of rain are swirling in the sky
the winds hide on the other side
everyone in torment
expecting
plenty of sweating and swearing
all kinds of fans waving and spinning.

I never lack an audience
even if it's just one person
i have
the cranium of poetry
humbly poised to be placed high
nirvana in a verse
is not to be flaunted
just like the distant incident of snow
remains far and illusive
only the wind knows
the interstice between the heaven and the ocean
the interstices amidst the words
only time knows
i never lack an audience
even if all the readers
who have come from all bearings
have gone
well, i knew that sooner or later
they will leave too
i just hope that when they do
they don't forget it all like a hangover
that'd be a cinch
i never need an audience
time is always by my side
the one true
underwriter.

stagnation tastes bitter
with a spoonful of disappointment
and a cup of regret
but what right do i have to
complain about something
i consciously bring
upon myself
to taste unapologetically
every night
i am reminded
of how aimless
and pointless
i have been
coursing through the
days wasting time
fooling myself into
believing
i had moved an
inch forward towards
something worthy
to wake up to
but even waking up
takes so long
when every night is
like a clingy lover
that i tolerate into
not letting me go
until too much darkness
is enough
and it's time to part
and then it's time
to wake up
again and again
to a new set of stagnating days
aimless
pointless

My city...
I was here before it was even one,
my toys are older
than the high-rise buildings.
Yet all of my oldest dreams
have long been gone,
this is where new people
from far-away are dreaming.

People dream to visit here
even for a day,
I can't count the years
I've been trying to escape.
People travel here
to have a sip of coffee,
even the taste of water here
can tell that I am sick.

In the inner city,
while everyone takes photographs,
I try my best to walk
with my shoulders not dropped.
In the chic cafes
where others strike a pose,
I knew I never wanted more,
I had my dose.

My city,
that many people dream
of visiting and living in,
why, then there's me
who's here and feeling livid in.
My now-larger-city
that still feels like a small town,
I feel suffocated,
as if all my life I'm in a tight gown.

I start my walk home with heavy feet after a long day at work. My earbuds are charged and ready to tug at my heart. The early summer heat is setting in and I wipe the sweat from my brow. I feel the thud of my boots against the sidewalk like the percussion of a tone-deaf child clamoring two cymbals together. The beat doesn't match the music, but the sentiment is sincere.


The light switches from orange to white; I make my way across the vacant intersection. I wonder if I ever cross your mind because you've invaded mine like a virus. I almost catch my breath but cough up blood. I wipe my hands against my jeans. Sometimes this is what love feels like. 

Feet still clanging like metal against the pavement...I walk. I think of you always. What a waste. My mouth full of pennies and you don't even see that I am golden. The salt I rub from my cheek does nothing more than provide patina. All of this sorrow goes unseen, unnoticed. 


Two hands of shimmering glitter. Will anyone ever see them? The purest gift to offer, yet everyone keeps walking fearfully away. I've never liked coins, but I flip one into the air and watch it spin. The axis turns and I wonder where it will land. 


The cymbals are no longer mashing against one another, and I stare at my boots on the carpet of my room. Silence. My bloodied denim folded neatly on the floor. Do you still taste me in your mouth?


Because you're on my tongue like a good luck charm tucked away in the corner of a drawer somewhere. Someday you might remember me fondly and think of what could have been. Or maybe you won't.


Vulnerability is a double-edged sword, and I am ready to be laid bare. It takes an incredible amount of bravery to allow love to split us open...our insides bathing us in gold. 


I will say it again: love is a heavy apparatus to wield, and it requires more than two hands. 


My earbuds beep incessantly...


Battery dead.

Time has been
                          lost again.
Falling
into the
cracks in
the floor.

With a pounding heart
I grasp
for the remnants
                              of memories
but they have      slipped
into distant          caverns.

Blurred figures
of my past
constructing walls to
                                   opaque themselves
to mere whispers.

I keep falling in love with ghosts
They flitter in and fade away

Three little spirits slipped wetly into my hands
****** and beautiful; we called each other family
The foundation cracked and poison filled the gaps

They used to laugh and call me daddy
Now…silence and estrangement
That name is reserved for another

Everything in my life was thrown into a heap
Misunderstanding and pain collided to spark the flame
I walk through this new reality, ash covering my feet

Yes, bartender, I’ll have another
And another

///

A wraith tall and handsome extended his hand in kindness
I reached with my entire being
Poured my heart into his chest

For a moment he washed me clean
We laid bodies entwined as poetry spilled from his lips
A summer zephyr under my wings
I was a phoenix

Balladry devolved to insult
He removes the dagger and ashes spill out
My brokenness is scattered everywhere

Yes, bartender, I’ll have another
And another

///

Splintered, scaly hands attempt to rebuild
A heavy mind sits in an empty room
Passing by houses filled with the ones I love
Never fingers to grace cheek again

I’ve become the stranger that can’t find a home
Saliva stretches as lips part 
Lungs evacuate and heartbroken cries disappear into the sky

This hollowness haunts me like an apparition
Love…the ultimate curse
It’s previous forms have burned me to ash

Yes, bartender, I’ll have another
And another
.
.
.
I’m in love with ghosts
They flittered in and faded away