Jeepneys poems on Hello Poetry

Yen Apr 2017

Manila,
Manila,
Your bustling streets vibrate with the rumbling of the jeepneys
and the hollers of the drivers as they say,
“Pasahero diyan, kasya pa, kasya pa!”; (Any passenger there, some seats are still free!)
Your nights twinkle with the Christmas lights
that surround every tree around the Meralco building
when September begins;
Your endless traffic jams keep McDonald’s and KFC alive
twenty-four by seven
where traffic enforcers dodge cars
and vans
trucks and tricycles
and jeepneys and bicycles
while dancing to the rhythm beating in their own ears
with a smile and a salute to all the drivers
from dawn to dusk;

The noise awakens the outskirts of your city
filled with people who never fails to smile
even when the storm pirouettes like a tempestuous ballerina,
where children watch the roads
transform into this ocean of black water
and small wooden boats become the means of transportation;
paddling in between houses
as the adults try to go to work;
where chickens waddling upon roofs
and cats chasing rats
become the best forms of entertainment

but Manila,
your lingering smell of cancer
comes with the dark blue starless sky
telling people to grip their bags until it merges with their bodies.
Manila, say good night
while they hold it tight
protecting it from the dark humid air
where thieves come out to
thumb down unscrutinised objects
from shallow pockets
by the flickering lamps
across the blazing red and emerald green lights

you see less
and less
and less
faces
as the Sun sinks and says good bye.

Stop
and try to tranquilise yourself.

Your city is now lead
by a blood-thirsty leader.
Apologies from gunshots overpower the cries of help from your people.
Manila,
ignore them
and sleep well.
Let the truth decay
while lives burn and vanish.
Prayers cannot save your mutinous ignominy.

Halcyon days are over
but

Manila,
you are still a beautiful city.
Your resilient people
overflows with hospitable hearts.
Their faces plastered with big smiles
as they welcome us for you
and say, “Mabuhay!” (Long live!)
proud and mighty.
Offering their minds on banana leaf plates to everyone who visits,
Giving away their hearts in small loot bags to everyone who leaves,

The Pearl of the Orient Seas
was my hood.

Manila,
despite your lack of snow
and intense weather swings,
You are
and will always be
my home.

#home #city #neighborhood #pearl #philippines #hood #filipino #contrast #manila #nationalism

Jeffrey Pua Oct 2014

Turtles

There are always new places
For our feet, always
Another,
Wearing out the shoes,
The veins, and soles.
I learned to love the world
From your waist down.
There is no end for travel.

We travel and travel more.
The buses fill, the jeepneys,
And the planes. The trains fill,
Terribly fill. Boracay fills.
And what a tedious postcard
This is,

When the whole point
Of the matter is this: that
We are bound, headed, destined
To someplace else,
Boundless, vast
And everlasting--
A non-lifetime--

Which pretty much answers
Why love does not return.
I think that love could,
But must not return.
And I will carry you on,
You,
On my back,
Just to prove it.*

© 2014 J.S.P.

#love #thoughts

fugyadzi Oct 2011

Manila Night

Hello Manila rooftop
Manila quiet and Manila cold.
I am at the quiet part of the city
While cats roam by
and I hear nothing.
Cars rare
Jeepneys none.
Even if I’m looking from above.
The vertigo tempts me.

Cielo Gebilaguin Dec 2010

The Sunday Morning Listen

This is the Sunday Morning Listen, a radio show in my head.
We wake up to Quando, Quando, Quando and
Know that Humperdinck's question's been answered.

Not of old songs but old times, this is reminding me of old,
Like jeepneys en route to heaven, but the passenger detoured.

This is the Sunday Morning Listen,your sound is still in my head.

Louise Jul 2019

Lagusnilad

As I breathe the taint Manila air in,
I knew I was about to fall in love again.
Oh how I craved for the smoke belching out of the jeepneys, how badly did I want that signature smog to have me begging for fresh, precious air?

Ah, nothing would beat the musky, filthy smell from the streets and the constant fear of being pickpocketed that no feeling in the world would ever compare. The last time I felt my heart beat like a wild beast was when I was walking alone down Raon to fetch my first few vinyl records.

Commuting is a breeze. Except that breeze is in the apple of the eye of the storm that I would gladly, willingly look straight into. Quiapo is but an irony; the only place in the world where you would feel safe and protected by the church and the very same place you would feel fear of being mugged or robbed or both.

But the food, dear god, is incomparable. The blood enemy of my melancholy. I find peace in Binondo, a haven that makes me forget all the political dysphoria going on with our good old neighbor and ***** lover, China. Let's take a breather and bask on our shared heritage and cuisine instead, shall we?

Manila. Her chaos, her charm, her history and the dreams she holds for me...
these are what I will always come back here and battle death for.

Diyan Sa May Mga Nilad #1: Lagusnilad;
Lagusnilad Series #1

#manila #freeverse #musings

giofuellos Mar 2019

Pearl Under the Swamp of Time

In my search for the serene quietude of dawn
To warm with embers the cold rivers of my soul
I have forsaken your dark shores
Rising and gliding above the hills and mountains
In the swiftest speed I roared

But a giant realization had snatched me
From the mountainous caverns of solitude
Indeed as I have always known, it is
Inside the warmth of your animated splendor
With impassioned ears, I listened to
The sweet cacophonies of jeepneys roaring
In your busy streets, and the hawkers hawking
Along the sidewalks and sidestreets of life
Hustling under the red skies of your twilight

I am alive, and you are alive
Amidst the death that pervades the air
And the disquiet of the surrounding chaos
Like a dark ominous fog that rises into the stars
Destroying the holiness of dreams

Life, life, life! I screamed into the depths of your bay
Hoping to dredge from the red waters, the long gone
Where tattered dreams where made anew
Woven from the silken threads of sleep
Birthed by the once glorious rising of the sun

We are alive, we want you alive
And with our heft, we will raise our fists
We will break the locked doors of heaven
To drag out the kings to hell
And sentence them to the nothingness

We will dance, like the galaxies
Hammering and pounding the ground
Shattering the yokes of cerebral slumber
To ignite the furnaces of life
And start anew a fire that would burn
To bring the light through the everlasting dark!

Carl Velasco May 2018

Tayuman Midnight Hour

Under the train station from across the road
one musty midnight after a late dinner, I saw him.
He was alone. He watched jeepneys pass by. He
stared at the road. He remained still when
the other workers walked past him.
He held a 7-up or maybe a Mountain Dew
by the bottleneck & brought it to his lips to drink.
He was sitting on a stool too small for him
& so his legs were spread open.
He put his free hand on his knee, in between
fingers an almost finished cigarette.
His work suspenders glowed under the
plastic fluorescent light of Althea’s burger shop,
& beneath he wore a red shirt that
fastened his torso tight. When it was time to
ride my jeepney home, I looked at him for a moment
before getting on, & it could be that
he looked right back. When we
moved forward I tried looking again
but saw he was looking somewhere else.

Manila, 2018

Blatantly modelled after Allen Ginsberg's "The Bricklayer’s Lunch Hour" because it is pure genius.

keneth Jun 2019

parked cars

we always went the same route
six-thirty in the afternoon
we'll both be on our way home
riding orange-tainted jeepneys

and i never really paid attention
to the parked cars along our way
like how i never paid attention
to everything you say

i was on the same route
six-thirty in the afternoon
i was on my way home
this time, alone

notice those parked cars along the way? the road feels empty, now that they're gone.

#regret #mistake #parked #cars #in #the #philippines #are #causing #traffic

Mister J Mar 2018

Train Ride

The pavement was drenched by that long, August rain
As jeepneys swerved by and people were rushing
Under a small umbrella we hurried to catch the train,
As the wind grew colder and harsher that evening.

As we walked towards the station our hands glued tight
Those small, soft hands that laced around mine
And even though you kept ranting about that terrible night
It became an unforgettable memory in this heart of mine

That short train ride probably felt like the shortest ever
As if time flew quickly and you suddenly said your goodbye
Leaving me to travel alone pondering about the feelings at play
And it struck, that sudden realization, that left me to my sighs

These growing emotions kept growing, keeping me up at night
Heart beats uncontrolled and erratic whenever you come around
It annoys me that in your smile I find unending delight
And in my love struck mind your voice sweetly resounds

Each and every day I tried to avoid confronting them
You see me as a friend, so its a no, a big taboo
But a heart never ceases to yearn, no matter how you stop it
And in my case, I seek only to be loved by you

How everything would go, how far these emotions may take me
I can only watch from here, hoping and praying it will go my way
But as he comes along, your eyes set on him, it won't be easy
The only assurance I hold on to is that you would choose to stay

I'll try to assure myself with those calming, bewitching eyes
And I guess I'll hold on to your sweetest, merriest smile
Even if in truth, I deceive myself with those sweet, yet deadly lies
And that my fantasies and reality might never get reconciled

Love is a strange yet complicated feeling
When you yearn what's not yours, every fiber in you rebels
Even when you sacrifice your all and give up everything
The ones nearest to your heart, sting like pins and needles

But it also gives wisdom, helping young hearts grow
Love teaches vigilance even when everything hurts
It leaves us questioning, yet giving what we need most to know
That it is unquenchable passion and sacrifice for everything it's worth

So, here I stand, waiting for the next train to stop by,
heading to destinations unknown, meeting the strangest people
hoping that someday I'll meet you somewhere under a raining sky
Not as friends, but as lovers, perfectly-suited, yet an imperfectly human couple.

(February 12, 2015, 2:21am)

Old piece, dedicated to an old, unrequited love back in my college days

"Though my heart no longer waits
And my reason accepts the truth,
That this love is never ours
And your happiness clings in another's arms
I still miss your sweet, merry face
Your rosy lips and soft cheeks
And your warm and calming eyes
That took me by surprise
And snatched my heart away
Though never to be yours
You will always stay in my memories."

"Au revoir, old love,
'til we meet again"

100th piece. Hope you liked it.
Thanks for reading! :)

*Jeepneys- Public Transportation in the Philippines, taking inspiration from old WW2 US Army Jeeps and Jitneys.
Hi Fellow Pinoys! :)
Kumusta? :D

#unrequited #love #lost #jeepneys #trainrides #young #heart #naive #mind

giofuellos Jul 2018

Sulu

Zoom, roar, cars honking, Jeepneys
Racketing, plying the flooded streets
of suburban Manila

How I miss your dreadful and depressing sight
Hauntingly beautiful to the
Glass-eyed hipster romantic, romanticizing
Poverty and banality - what a good use of privilege

Sulu, you are a stench to my sight
I can hear your wounds screaming
And I can taste the bitter sound of your helpless cries

Yet, you cradled me and my drunkenness,
You danced with me under the moonless night
Along with the rowdy bottles of San Miguel
The bottles occupying the floor
Signified our comradeship
You had my back when I sleep
And you are my eyes in the morning
Before I wake up

How I will miss listening to jazz
Inside your deceptively-fragile looking walls
How I will miss puking on your floors
I will miss that part of my youth that I
Have left when I closed the front door.

Dave Cortel Apr 22

love in antips

in this noisy, crowded metro
where honking of jeepneys,
quarrels of vendor sellers,
rush footsteps of daily commuters
are loud (we could cut our ears off)
where we breathe not only oxygen
but mostly pollution.
i would die from a lung disease
or a stab directly to my heart
by someone who tried to rob
my outdated iPhone.
but with you,
in this perilous, criminal-infested metro,
with you everything is fine.
i would even kiss you
in LRT2 Pureza Station
before we claim our beep cards
bound to Antipolo.

wrote this around 2021 when i stayed in Manila and was always visiting Antipolo for its over-looking cafes

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