Although they are
only breath, words
which I command
are immortal

I've had trouble wrapping Christmas gifts;
it has always been your job to do this ***** work.
I work to get the Christmas bonus,
we do the shopping,
you do the wrapping.
Plain as day.

But you left me, and I had to do all the work by myself. And so
I made a list of steps in the new skill I have mastered:

1. Unroll the gift wrapper. Spread it. Cover all bases. Never adore the design and adornments; it will be ripped anyway.

2.  Put the gift in the middle of the paper. Estimate how much paper are you willing to save or spend and waste.

3. Tape the ends. Put tape wherever. Don't try to hide the tapes. Secrets are meant to be revealed anyway. TIP: The more you put tape, the uglier your gift wrap will be. You think tapes will mend loose ends but it will simply destroy the aesthetic value of your gift.

4. Fold and tape. Tape and fold. Design it however you like. Origami the **** out of it. It will be destroyed anyway.

5. Put the gift card. Write with your best handwriting. With a smile swathed on your face. Add a dash of artificiality. No matter what you put here, this will not merit anything; It will not be read anyway.

Four Christmases you have been wrapping those gifts. Now that I have
wrapped some this year, I'm pretty sure why you've left. Plain as day.

*PS Wait for the gift I am sending you over. I wrapped it just for you.

Can you hear a falling leaf?
As it twirls and dances in the wind
On its slow descent.
Turning, moving, swaying.
Does it sound like tinkling music?

The water that awaited the end of its crescendo
pushes out in perfect spherical ripples.
Underneath the bright orange leaf
That sings the end of its journey
Destination reached.
Sweet relief.

And now it floats
along the slowly moving river.
Can you hear the water moving?
It’s as clear as the ethereal beings
That haunt us through our lives.
Smooth rocks and pebbles underneath
Paint a canvas of perfect calmness.
Greys and browns and whites.

Branches from the trees that used
To hold that darling leaf lean over.
As if trying to touch fingertips to the river
To test the water’s temperature
So as not to make their child uncomfortable.

And as you look toward the distance
You can just barely make out
That sweet, wonderful leaf…
With its tinkling music…
Fall over the waterfall.

Can you hear the leaf now?

sa kasalakuyan,
nakatapak tayo sa isang malawak na lupain
at dinig ang mga martsang may ibubulong at aaminin.
sa ilang minutong inilaan,
ipapatunay

na kahit sino ay kayang mahalin.

                       isa, dalawa, tatlo, ang laban ay pasimula na. 'teka, 'wag muna...

balik! balik! tumalikod ka!
ano raw?    paulit-ulit na 'to, hindi pa raw handa.

balik! balik! tumalikod ka!

utos ni heneral                           sa unang mga kawal

na sumilip galing sa bagyong mga mata
na minana sa kalaban.

balik! balik! talikod na!
                                                             ­ - ayon kay heneral Luha

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.