Introspection

I have been told that of the gods and goddesses 

I have been warned of their wrath 

I have been spoken to

by many 

But I cared less of what was told- a history 

But here now I ask you 

If you are prepared to die abandoned or if you’ve seen some sing in despair

and yet continue to blow the ashes this life has given knowing

the consequences of unreturned passion that sifts within 

Once, in that embrace, I was convinced that 

No matter, we all have to suffer-

to go through what we ought to and surrender most of our physical value in order to lay the carpet for whichever path the sun chooses to illuminate 

Or would you let it?

I want to know if you’re ready to sweep the floor from unwanted sadness 

Ready to excuse yourself from immense boredom 

To help you grow, to lead you on

to have so much compassion towards the pain of others and to the pain you made for yourself 

I’m interested to know if you’re interested to live, day by day,

In this world that never lacks commodity 

What was turned to oblivion then now becomes a necessity 

I’d like to know if you can still turn your back, to look at what was left behind now is in front of you

and say here’s where I stand, I know what’s beneath me and from here I’m marking a new path 

I’m going without turning my back.

Because even the gods and goddesses know of God.

 

 

 

 

 

There’s a bonsai plant in my room

Probably not the red rose in your head

The flower we constantly give to someone –

A dear friend, beloved mom or to our short of love self

Not the yellow and white chrysanthemums in a glass vase

There is a bonsai plant in my room in front of my TV set occupying the brown shelf

It makes sense how this bonsai spins wonder more than the shows on my TV screen

How my eyes tend to look at its way subconsciously every time I move around my cabin room

It seems it’s calling me, attracting me the bonsai way

One afternoon I found myself throwing tantrums to this sublime bonsai

When suddenly I stopped.

I realized how it stood still even at the fan of air as a response of my “what the heck is going on- roaring self”

There is a bonsai plant that greets me in the morning with a steady look and a knowing grace

When I’m sour graping after a good night’s dream.

I have a fetish for bonsai plants

When I see one distant memories start a slideshow

And I remember passing by Peace Street with three grand houses in my adolescence

The orange house, the white house and the black house

Among these houses I love the white house most because

they have rubber pots with bonsai plants and every morning I see Doctor Robberts watering her plants

Some bonsai plants are shaped as fish, some a tower, some ducks

But I love the bonsai shaped as a cage most

I thought I could live there somehow

Doctor Robberts has one big pair of orange metal scissors and

Every Sunday afternoon she would snip the leaves growing out of the aluminum rings and greet other passers-by with an old smile

Her house has that autumn feel as some flower puffs, narra leaves and flowerets fall on the ground giving off an aromatic smell to lil neighbors like me

There is a bonsai plant in my room and it’s gaining prominence in my heart that sure is in bloom. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Love letters #1 how we connect the awkward way

FB_IMG_15013181125488358That was supposed to be the night I opened my heart to tell you the truth that I held inside. I thought about how to start, many times. The introduction was right but the body and the closing lines messed up. Those words were not the ones I wanted to say, at least, not the ones I’d like you to hear on a last day. But funny how this life somewhat changed the situation. Either we ended up all too serious or we ended up the comical way. 

The thing about us

Was supposed to be this not that 

Shouldn’t we sit there–

no, we don’t even care 

The intention was to discuss prior concerns,

hey the interview, I knew. I knew! I knew? 

All but the best except my spoiled coffee 

The night simply peeled off the awkward way. 

 

Like in some twisted fate,

They rolled it. Like in some sick way, they both kept testing each other’s reaction. Waiting for some signs, the green light to just go ahead and speed up..

“He likes her; She likes him”

Probably even deeper than that, who knew?

If only the other one knew. (?)

Like two strangers, they just kept pushing; pushing the same one wall towards each other.

Always with a question —

No better cure.

The song of heartbreak fills the air
As the peacock sits on the mountain peak
The beasts recognize her sorrows tune
And sit behind the queen most high!
S-i-l-ence
Exiles a wishful thinking
Of a throbbing past below her chin
O come with me, sit with us
Heartbreak it is that we must nurse!

Cebuano poems #2

kay kadtung mga kalipay nga milabay sa aku ang atubangan sama sa usa ka dakung dug-dug sa sayung kabuntagon nga mibu-ak sa aku ang paghikatulog, ma o nang hitabu-a nga nagpabiling lab-as sa daplin sa akung alimpatakan..ug aku sama sa bata nga gidaman-daman, iyang pangalan ra ma-oy nigisi sa aku ang dila arun malituk ang pulong sa gugma.

Waves

 

The wave that lashes out the cliff when the tide is high and the moon is bare

The wave strong enough to wash you away

The wave that drowns most fishermen at night or even as they scatter their nets to hoard fish

The wave enchanted for tourists and mellow natives

The wave that manifests the sorrows of the sea

Home to diversified beauty and ageless mystery

The wave that takes away what you give it, stores it somewhere neglected

The wave that tells the story it reads from the secret bottles collected, from little stones of wishes thrown, from screams of people who visited 

The waves unstable, dangerous and calming 

If I were the waves, would you be my surfer instead?

 

Cebuano poems #1 sa akung mga higala

ug tu-ud man handumun ku mga kagahapun nga gipalit ug gisaw-an sa atu-ang panaghigala-ay , laumun ku gihapun kini hangtud nga mubuswak nasad ang sunud nga hudyaka sa atu ang isig ka kinabuhi. Apan, samtang ani-a pa kita, makita ug mabati, ibayaw ku sa mga bitu-un sa kagabhion kining kalipay nga miguhit sa atong isig ka mga ngabil. Kay nahigugma aku sa akung mga higala, sayri kana.

How can I not love you? 

Please meet me tonight. Let’s see how many words will be spoken. And how much tears would fall for each word spoken.

Then from that point,

What must you tell your heart?

is all up to you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Living alone. Doing things alone. Everything decided and created all by yourself is your comfort zone. You aren’t lonely. Because being in the c-zone is happiness.

The challenge is when you’re Not asked, Not dared and Not forced to share that space with another special person.

Someone who matters to you, who is determined to embark on a new journey with you. Someone who loves you. Sometimes, someone totally different from the people you’re used to having and taking.

And you…

Are just there mystified, rambling things in your brain, rationalizing, doing reality checks, making-decisions, nit-picking, finger-pointing and,

at other times just dreaming, fantasizing, miraculously writing songs, singing, wishing and carving wood, spilling beer,

frightened to leap, to be a fool, to make mistakes, to regret the only decision you made from the many options you had –it could be wrong, could be right,

I might be right, might be wrong

Afraid to live a different life, scared to be with a different person, scared to discover a new person in you, not wanting to do things, fear to lose control in doing so, experience the ruin of all things gradually in your face like colourful confetti up in the air, difficult to catch with your two hands when it falls–only gets even worse once it lands; filling the ground wet, dirty and useless.

Then, you’re back to square one.

And the good side? 

Because it’s the opposite; varied, difinitely not an empty experience.