paano ko nga ba kinolekta
ang mga ala-ala?
sa piraso ng bato?
sa piraso ng kahoy o halaman?
siguro sa simoy ng hangin
at lasa ng pagkain?
hindi naman kaya
sa kalampag ng mga musika?
wala nga sigurong batayan
wala ring katapusan ang pagkolekta
ng mga ala-ala
nakagawian ko na itong gawin
noon pa
kaya kahit na ubos na
ang mga bato kahoy at halaman
kahit na said na ang bakas
sa simoy ng hangin
at lahat ng pagkain
manahimik man ang indayog ng musika
hangga't hindi pa nauubos
ang mga naipong lakas
na magdadala ng mga lipas na gunita
ng galit at takot
ng lungkot at tuwa
makababalik pa rin ako
saan man magpunta

There’s no need to apologize to me
Just leave it be
There’s nothing to gain
But maybe a little pain
When you apologize for everything you do
So don’t you
Feel like you have to apologize to me

All my life
Even when there was no strife
I would apologize for everything
But be told something
Different every time
I ended up like a mime
Unable to say another word

Fly free like a bird
Say “sorry” so much and you’re just a broken record.

- Jay M
March 17th, 2020

Like what you like, hate what you hate and let other do what they want to do on themselves because the road to heaven doesn’t pass trough your heart.

All are dancing slowly
This masquerade
A gala
Yet
All is in great discord
Among the orchestra
One is out of tune
Yet
None seem to care
To hear the broken melody
See the chip in the stone

Cover it up
With a little paint
None shall tell
Besides the meek little pup
Soon it shall faint
One shall yell
While the rest
Ring, ring, ring the bell
Dancing in discord
To the broken melody

Pulling out a flask
‘Neath the rows
Folk chatter and ask,
“Isn’t something off?”
While the other throws,
“Neigh!” then one does quaff

Shine a light
Alone the floor
Hold one tight
For one shall sing no more
Grasp it
So one may not fall
That she would not permit
Not a’tall

Sing, sober dream
Whisper your whims
Through a beam
On a limb
The lullaby
Child doth cry
Sing, sober dream
Sing, sing,
For ‘tall must end
One day.

- Jay M
September 12th, 2019

Like a melody
On repeat
I hear everything but you

A broken piece
You never need
Maybe I don't want to

A musical whim
One I can't sing
Tell me it's true

I want to know if you're worth it
Tell that you deserve it
Help me believe you

I really want to.

Removed from paper inner sleeve
shiny black disc
catching light, rainbows across the groove
carefully placed on turntable's
spinning platter
to keep finger marks at bay
spinning, 33 1/3
snap, crackle, pop
the needle takes flight
leading in to
the rumble of bass
crash of high hat
singer's lyrical weavings
a density of sound
the smell of vinyl
a whiff of aging cardboard sleeve
artwork fit for a gallery

Hurt me,
I’ll recover.

Call me a ****,
That works.

Call my phone,
You hear a dial tone.

Won’t answer,
You treat me like a taxi driver.