You sneezed your disapproval away
and the phlegm of your mind came
raining down.
                                    I didn’t move a finger.
                                    I had my mask on.

The insignia of the emperor, I don’t have,
for the sun that guides my path is bright
but not blood-colored. Your gang judged,
anointed not - I don’t belong, we don’t.
Still I wasn’t moved.  
                                     I have my mask on.

There at the throne, the jolly Governor
sat, flanked by the nobles of Royal Court –
all smiling, like full-grained opaque
white corn, where within the holding cobs
the worms had spread the contagion,
boring the core to pitiful emptiness. But
I wasn’t moved. I won’t move.
I know too well.
                                    They have their masks on.

The fountain of nectar still flows along the river
of wisdom, way, way beyond when coconut florets
have fallen. We dipped our cups and your words
have yielded the wines you brewed, mellowed
by the years you served head up high, but feet
always on the ground, forever resolved, pursued
the dreams. Strong in will, but still soft on sides
right of your heart. The few defeats only inspired
the lady knight in you to fight the battles in life.
The armor of the soul shines but you still kept
that motherly crown for all of those you cared
and loved dearly. Proudly, I met and knew and
served and was once a friend of that singular,
unforgettable Queen. Our wellspring of thanks
will never dry up for all your support and love.

Lasaping mabuti bawat lagok, paulit-ulit
Namnamin ang pampagising na pait
Habang ang likas na tamis, nilalasang pilit
Sa ‘yong lalamunang sabik, ang init guguhit.
Tulad ng bawat pagtatanghal, sa isip di mawaglit
Todo-bigay ang birit, tila laging huling hirit.

Araw-araw mang nakikita ang Bundok Malarayat
Hindi nagsasawang sulyapan ang Silangan pagmulat
Bawat araw na tayo'y buhay, may dalang sigla’t galak.

Hwag nang ipitin ang kwadrong alas o otso
Di na magiging mahalaga kung sino nga ba’ng nanalo
Kapag ang mga kalaro sa pusoy ay wala na ni anino.

Hagkan si Habagat at yakapin si Amihan,
Daluyong ma’y ihatid, sa kabila’y walang ganyan
Di-pinansing hininga’y aapuhapin sa paglisan

Ang lupang hinamak, tinapak-tapakan
Ang lupa ring naghandog ng susing kabuhayan
Ang lupa ring hihimlayan sa huling hantungan.

Lasaping mabuti bawat lagok, paulit-ulit
Kapeng barako’y masarap habang mainit
Ngunit wala nang bisa sa huling pagpatak ng saglit

Lasaping mabuti bawat lagok, bango’y langhapin
Kapeng barako’y larawan ng pagbangon at paggising
Ng bawat araw, biyayang pasasalamata’t tatanggapin.

Ang Lipa ng aking kabataan, tila kumakatawan,
sumasalamin sa mahal nating Inang Bayan

Ilang tampalasan na ang dumaan
Kolera eltor, malaria, pesteng balang
Mga sundalong Hapon, mga sakang
Malulupit na kampon ni Kamatayan
Dumaan pa ang sakit na kalawang
sa dahon ng kapeng inaalagaan
At bukbok sa bungang manibalang,
nanlalaglag, di na pakikinabangan.

Ngunit ibang klase itong ngayo’y salot
Bala ay di nakikita, mala-bola daw ang balot
at tila may mumunting galamay na nakakakilabot
at masusundan ka, sa’n ka man sumuot.

Binago ng COVID ang ating kapalaran,
pananaw, pagkilos, pati kabuhayan
Nakita kung alin at sino ang dapat pahalagahan
at kung sino ang tunay na karamay at kaibigan.

Kung sa nilagang kape pa ang pagtutularan
kitang-kita kung alin ang latak at alin ang matapang.
Nawa’y may masalok na pag-asa sa Silangan,
Nawa’y may malagok tayong kaligtasan.

My dear friend is a frontliner
Serving, without break, no breather
Battling COVID, this war's unfair
Friend's hero, I'm a follower.

Frontliner ang kaybigan ko
Naglilingkod walang preno
Kontra bayrus ang g’yerang ‘to
S’ya’y bayani at idol ko.

The saints would want me to forgive. That I have
done. Uphill trek, great effort, conquered the summit.
But then the witch doctors have asked me also to forget,
just forget, like nothing happened. The gray amnesia
intensely urged by incessant chants of choral animé
of aging cherubims would make it difficult, quite
difficult, to explain myself, to myself, with all honesty,
how I got the scars that run deep to the core of my unholy,
(Why not just say sinful? But what is a sin, anyway?),
heart. Unreal these demands. Abnormal? Unnatural.
Unnatural such reactions. Like a Shylock, I would have
yelled, nay, sworn (did he swear?) - a Jew also feels
pain, and bleeds - red blood, not green, not yellow –
when pricked, wounded, ******, slashed, crucified.
But I am not a Jew. Neither a Christian. Nor a Muslim.
Not a saint. Just a human.

Just a human. Not an Avenger or any superhero.
Can’t fly. No imaginary avian wings like those
of Caucasian angels. Not bat wings like those
of soot- or ember-colored devils. Outside an airplane
only my thoughts soar across the blue skies
and above the numerous species and varieties
of clouds. No cloudy mind.

Just a human. Blindfolded Science, not blind nor blinded,
called the species I belong to, just one, **** sapiens.
Wise human. Subspecies **** sapiens sapiens.
Wise, wise human. Made up of matter. That matters.
A lot. Matter not essence. Matter of fact. A living thing.
Not a germ nor a microbe nor a god but surely omnipresent.
Not a plant but may be green-minded. Needs plants.
Not a fungus but may be fungus-faced. Occasionally
attacked by the whitening, not by the illusion of being white,
but by blotching, thanks but no thanks to Tinea versicolor
Not a protist. I just protest. And protest I must.

Just a human. Classified as a hominid. A mammal. Highest
Form? Who said so? Aristotle? Highest? No! Form? Yes -
an animal. Not a microbe. Not a plant. Not a fungus.
Not a protist. I just protest. And protest, protest, I must.
Not a virus. Not white, not black, an Asian, a Filipino.
Not your virus. But like all humans, afraid, very much,
of the new coronavirus. But I am
Not the virus.

Afraid of coronaviruses, and all other deadly viruses,
because I am. Just a human.