In Nero’s private stage,
Disaster was
His audience. Rome mimics fallen Troy in play.
What was reflected in Nero’s eyes
when he sang of the swirling patterns
of fire? When Rome was caught burning;
When conspiring led to its fall.

Fire engulfed Rome with fiery teeth.
The clouds hide or faint into black smoke.
The skies bleed heavily with rust
Its brassy color mixing with the
*** of burning seas, like oceans melting

Could you not feel the sun’s weight?
Now it is incomparable to
Molten seas and softened lead!

Blood spilt from sea-point, waves wallow the cries
Of the fallen. Like a bellowing sound marching
Against caverns of ears, Copper soldiers
Melt into clouds oozing with emotion,
Shattering their now empty metal hearts,
Hollow hearts that outlive the muteness.

It is awakened when
Spark and light is absent.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 26, 2009 - Alabang)

The gods of fire and storms seem to call.
Do you not hear that his end is near?
The deep is swallowing up the light.
Skies burn, winds drip emotions.
But unlike Fishes, multitudes of clouds
Dissipate like crowds, oceans
darken with grief as sun seems dulled.
Stars move with the procession
Of boats with floating lamps.
Fishermen’s vessels cross, slicing waves
underneath, spraying salt water on eyes.
Crisscrossing nets spread
Like wings of dove.
Overbearing waves heavy with boats
answer call of coming
School of fish.

Pained hands blister the night.
With Eyes that flicker like lamps.
They Be still and know of Sun’s
promised light.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 25, 2009 - Alabang)

This October,
the rain speaks pebbles
like the sound of static.

Watch the patterns the wind points out:
the drifting rain,
a question marking a crossroads path you keep
asking to yourself.

"if the rain keeps pouring,
will our questions only pile up and up?"

Gathering huge puddles
under our doorstep
reflecting an expressionless sky, or
a sudden murkiness in it.

how the rain touches the roofs
of old gray houses sitting in silence.
watch as a huge puddle gathers all
other puddles, gathering minutes
the seconds even, lost in counting.

the rain starts drifting faster and faster,
see how counting no longer counts,
we feel a certain disconnection, again
the sound of falling pebbles.

Still, the rain keeps pouring
its numerous what if's
how it pins needles to our heads
you ask and you only hear
the long 'tchsssssh'-es

filling up the empty spaces of
my mouth, of our long silences
that still count, to me.

You slightly move
your hand above your hair
in a futile attempt
to lessen the question of rain.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / October 1, 2010 - Alabang)

The rain;
Flogging our roof’s heads with sound.
‘Tchssschschschchchcshshcsh…’
like unplugged cable.
Smudges our screens in monotonous tone until
wire is cut, or lightning struck.
A veil of silence
envelopes eyes, off-color.

We stop to think of what might happen.
To stare at endless possibilities
of rain falling
to a stop.

Unless the flood comes uninvited,
Offers things for sale; usually you’re left
without a choice.
Barters a few Armani clothes or a few Dolce & Gabbana
For a sack of rice and a few cans.

Sometimes the flood throws you freebies,
like exotic pets bigger than a cat
Or throw in a few Pesos and get a broken tire.
But mostly they just give you mud and dirt. Mud and dirt.
They fill you up with it
and cover your eyes with it too.
And if you get lucky, they’ll throw you
the essentials like refusing to take your children,
The recovery of a dead faith and you start praying again,
Or they give you an orange boat.

Sometimes the rain comes in to see if you’ll sink
Or learn to walk again.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / September 13, 2010 - Alabang)

The note that states the future goal, friend of friends is all we know.
Then soon we grouped and understood, at old alabang and mercy's peak
The night of bond we shared ideas, a veil removed to hide the truth.
Feelings planted, watered and cared, questions asked but left unsaid.
A test of strength for knowledge we took, We bathe, rejoiced, and fought at noon. Traveled we did like a one-way-day trip, the plant of feelings evolved once more.
The day has come for us to learn, you passed, i failed, for that we learn.
A test for patience always came, you and i whom they declined.
We stayed, we run, we fought, we hide, side-by-side we really thrive.
Trouble came and made things worst, we tried and still made things work.
The love of ours is so unique, that no shakespears could compete.