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Nix Brook Sep 4
at hindi mo 'man ako alalahanin
sa paraan na aking gustuhin

hindi mo na rin siguro sasaliksikin
na kung bakit ikaw ang paksa sa "kung paano ako mahalin"

hindi na rin para iyong mabatid at dinggin
sapat na ang yapos ng hangin na may panalangin
hindi ka 'man naging akin
minsanan din naman kitang na-angkin
Louise Aug 17
Ang wikang nanlaban,
ay ang wikang nanatili.
Ang wikang di nag-atubili,
ay ang wikang nagwagi.
Ang wika ng mga matatapang,
ay ang wikang di maaagawan.
Ang wikang awitin ng araw
at ang wikang tula ng buwan.
Ang wikang harana ng habagat
at ang wikang isinulat ng dagat.
Ang wikang ibinaybay ng alon
at ang wikang di aanurin ng baybay.
Ang wikang sinambit ng mga ninuno
na kailanman ay di mamamatay.
Ang wikang ginamit ng mga bayani
na habambuhay nang mamamalagi.
Ang wikang matapang,
ang wika ko magpasawalang-hanggan.
Isang oda sa Tagalog, ang wikang matapang at ang wika ng mga matatapang. Para sa buwan ng wika.
Traveler Jul 29
The cancer we feed
Western hegemony
A fire out of control
Imperialistic goals
The secret coup
The crippling fall
Forfeiture of resources
Loss of civil law

Do you not see
their master plan?
Traveler ๐Ÿงณ Tim

The list goes on and onโ€ฆ
Louise Jun 4
My most beloved,
I've always known, it makes perfect sense.
Why they all want to take you,
away from my arms and from the lull of rest.
Why they all want a piece of you,
it's because you are simply, utterly the best.
My dearest,
it's all because you are heaven-sent.
Because of you, I am brave and I can win.
Your waves are weaved by God himself.
Because of you, I can surf, sink and swim.
But my love,
for you, there is no war I wouldn't fight.
There is no battle that I wouldn't triumph.
No forefronts I wouldn't lead.
No enemy I wouldn't bury dead.
My most beloved sea, my dearest,
๐˜”๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ข๐˜บ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ ๐˜ข ๐˜ฎ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ช๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜ฃ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ณ๐˜ข ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฌ๐˜ข
For your laughters, waves and sunset,
๐˜-๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ข๐˜บ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ฃ๐˜ช๐˜บ๐˜ข๐˜จ ๐˜ฌ๐˜ฐ ๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜จ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ข ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜ฌ๐˜ข๐˜ญ๐˜ฑ๐˜ข๐˜ด๐˜ข๐˜ฏ.
Written from the POV of humanized San Juan, La Union, addressed to the West Philippine Sea โค๏ธ

Ilocano translations:
1.) Matayak a makilablaban para kenka
Mamamatay akong ipinaglalaban ka
(I would die fighting for you)

2.) I-alay ko biyag ko inggana pannakalpasan.
Ibibigay ko ang buhay ko hanggang katapusan
(I will give my life until the end)
Glen Castillo May 16
They say that when you find true love, you have also found your heaven here on earth. That's why I believe that heaven will also guide you towards me. But I'm getting impatient, waiting and regretting every passing moment, not being able to hold your hands in times when you need someone by your side. Not being able to comfort you when you're feeling down. I know that, like me, sometimes you feel like the world has let you go too. So forgive me if, in those moments when you feel that way, I'm not there to support you. If true love and heaven have a deep connection to each other, I strongly believe that we are also destined to be like them.

I once asked, In which corner of heaven are you? Are you close to the sun? Or maybe you're just beside the moon, watching over me every time darkness falls. That's why wherever I go, you always seem to follow. But you might also be with the stars, where many desire to possess you. Fortunately, when the time comes, you will be mine. So while you're not here yet, I will stand with the righteous soldiers of our nation. I will fight when needed and defend what is just. So that when you arrive, we can freely enjoy a peaceful life together. So while you're not here yet, I wholeheartedly pray to our creator. May goodness reign in my heart as a person and, above all, as his child, so that when we finally meet, I will also be a good partner to you.

Even before we cross paths, I want you to know that you are always in my prayers. And I will cherish your love forever, which is why I long to live repeatedly. I want to shout to the world that I love you deeply, but I will patiently wait for you. And when our hearts finally meet, I will whisper to you that you are my world. I will just wait, while you're not here yet."


ยฉ 2018 Glen Castillo
All Rights Reserved
Louise Apr 30
A pearl waits indeed,
albeit of exceptional beauty...
No matter how rare or how valuable,
a pearl waits indeed.
A pearl waits indeed,
for the bravest of divers...
No matter how long or how far,
to swim deep for her historical harvest.
A pearl waits indeed,
albeit of celebrated rarity...
No matter how treacherous the ocean,
a pearl stays still and sits pretty.
A pearl waits indeed,
in the embrace of the sea...
No matter how tumultuous the waves get,
a pearl waits indeed...
A pearl waits...
to be worn as a necklace
or earrings by a poet.
A poet who also refers to herself as a pearl.
A poet so foolishly comparing herself.
But then again, she's not so wrong.
Asking questions to the sky before bed.
Will you pick me up and take me away
from this seabed of moss and loss?
Will you harvest me from the vast ocean
and its mass of loneliness?
A pearl waits...
to be held, touch and kissed by the fingers
of a brave diver, of a worthy surfer...
Or simply by a simple island boy,
whose heart is that of a lion's
and whose hands are able...
Your Philippine pearl,
Louise...
Louise Apr 8
They are the drops of rain in an island
as you ride through a storm on a motorbike.
The coconuts falling down your head
on a quiet beach.
They are the songs and poems
addressed to or meant to attack politicians.
They are slippery rocks on a river
and the current of a whirlpool
for the heavy steps
of the enemies.
And they are the soft cashmere carpet
and the fine, powdery sands
for the careful steps
of my lovers.
Written from the point of view of Panay Island;

An adaptation of "My Poems Are Not Gentle" by Roger Felix Salditos/Mayamor
Louise Mar 20
I know you've heard things about me...
This and that, here and there...
And I also know you're a little scared,
could be of me, or of my beauty maybe...
This and this and this
Yet I know that as scared as you are,
you're also curious about my mysteries...
That and that and that
But if you take a chance on me,
if you step into my shores and feel my breeze,
you'll find that I'm just a beautiful island,
I could even be the best you'll ever see,
nothing more and nothing grand...
yet I could be the paradise you've never been
and I could have everything you'll ever need.
I could leave you exhilarated
with my magic, sunsets and seabed...
And you would leave me sparkling brand new,
like my oceans have never been this clear and blue.
This and that,
here and there,
I want you here now
and I want you near.
A love letter from Siquijor the island herself, to you dear reader... ๐Ÿโœจ๏ธ๐Ÿ”ฅ

In this poem, I've personified Siquijor as if the island wrote this very poem. Inspired by the age-old scary tales and "rumors" surrounding Siquijor Island, this poem encourages readers to come visit the island despite all of these rumors and stereotypes, calling to you and urging you to come closer, like a siren's song...
Louise Mar 8
๐˜—๐˜ช๐˜ฏ๐˜ข๐˜บ (๐˜ฏ); ๐˜ฅ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฐ๐˜จ๐˜ข๐˜ต๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜บ;
๐˜ด๐˜บ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ฏ๐˜บ๐˜ฎ๐˜ด: ๐˜ด๐˜ญ๐˜ถ๐˜ต, ๐˜จ๐˜ฐ๐˜ญ๐˜ฅ ๐˜ฅ๐˜ช๐˜จ๐˜จ๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ,
๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ต๐˜ฆ ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ ๐˜ธ๐˜ฆ๐˜ด๐˜ต๐˜ฆ๐˜ณ๐˜ฏ ๐˜ฎ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฏ'๐˜ด ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ฆ

I know who I am
Yet I don't mind being contained inside a stereotype
I'd even laugh with them or crack a harder joke,
if that means with you, I'll get to spend more time.
I know that in surprise of my truth, they will all choke.

I know myself
I've sworn with blood I won't throw my heart so far
like a boomerang that carelessly takes flight,
but I don't mind the comfort of being inside your car
even more so being found with you there late at night.

I know what I want
I chase my dreams daily, men only every two years
And I don't mind the name-calling and naysays
Because what I want can't be bought with tears
and all they'll ever know about me is my name anyway.

I know what I'll get
But if it's you, I'll take what I can and hope I won't need
Even if it feels like looking into those eyes of yours is a crime
Because life before you have been stereotypical indeed
So I don't mind, no I don'tใ…กin hundreds of jails I'd merrily do time.

I know what you'll get
And if it's not me, there are always the girls
waiting for you back home
or the ones who anticipates you
wherever you may cross, dock or land
Because I have a feeling life after you
would feel like I've always been alone
But would you mind? If I ask you
to hold me longer and take my hand?

Do we know where we'll get?
If it's not with you and me,
there are thousand other pretty faces and luscious lips...
But can they ever fill the void I've left
and will I never stop thinking about what they lack?
Because I have a feeling there's more to this,
I've never missed anyone's hand on my hips...
But would you mind? If I ask you
to give me another night, will you ever come back?
In celebration of International Women's Day 2024 and of Filipinas, and the age-old stereotypes about us. ๐ŸŒธ
Louise Feb 22
I miss her.
Me on the island.
The me that's carefree,
doesn't care about schedules,
about no rules,
eats healthier, sleeps better,
wears flowers on her hair
instead of carrying burdens in her head,
dances like no one's watching
and sings like no one has ever hurt her,
laughs her heart out
and hugs people and means it.
I miss the person that I was on the island;
she was everything I'm not
or I cannot be at home and in reality.

I miss her and I'm gonna keep missing her...
until I meet her again.
Summer is finally near... ๐ŸŒž
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