i am a poetaster

streetfood

2009-11-07T21:40:00.002+08:00

just walk around.
there are choices.

don't let your mind be clouded,
like the streets you're walking into,
of smoke from grilled food.

grab a burger
then press it really hard.

grab a stick of isaw.
yes, the one from a baboy,
tastier, juicier, and larger
than that of a manok.

again, walk around.
light up a stick with guitar,
i.e., if you know what i mean.

grab a palamig.
but please, not the
mango juice+milk.

for the last time,
walk.
then, lie down.

don't turn that page yet

2009-05-19T16:22:00.000+08:00

don't turn that page yet,
you're not even done reading it.

don't skip the lines,
read even the spaces between them.

don't let the torn page fly away,
make sure you put it on the right place.

don't overlook the important details,
highlight it with pink, blue, yellow or green.

don't keep the words you've learned to yourself,
share it to someone who'll understand them too.

bonifacio-rizal (and the two met at the end of the bridge)

2009-03-14T15:19:00.000+08:00

you are every poet's dream.
inspiration.

the trail started after the beso
it was dark, but the moon,
oh so full, oh so round
lit the street.

bonifacio must have been lonely:
cars just passed him by,
and people bothered to stop
and stare.

motorcycles passed by.
hitting the mark close
to a hundred.

street lamps,
the piñatas on top of the street,
used their fluorescence to guide
the tipsy drivers.

and i turned left on the corner,
meeting rizal.

stopping the fx,
only to find out,
she'd been left behind.

little boys,
showing off their maturity,
were acting and dressing
like grown-up women.

street lights,
glowing and competing with the moon,
suggested
"hey, you can stop."

and the love ended
at the corner:

"manong, sa may kanto lang."
"ma, para sa tabi."

i won't tell you that i miss you coz

2008-11-17T20:02:00.000+08:00

used to be w th you all the t me

i used to ake the same subjec s wi h you
i still emembe going to diffe ent places with you
i am happy everytime i am with yo
in my mind, painted is your smi e
i reall like hanging out with ou

the ark you left to e is per anent
your ntell gent thoughts st ll move me
you eem to make every eme ter really fun
i might have made ome of my preciou poem

o r adventres are trly memorable

i couldn't e ase neithe delete you sent messages
i c uldn't help but always l k at y ur pictures
you are not eated next to me reading thi poem

hello friday

2008-09-19T21:45:00.000+08:00

hello friday,

i don't wanna go home
because you made me want to.
why would the rain fall this hard tonight?

hello friday,

are you telling me to stay
here, in mcdo,
alone.

hello friday,

do you know what i have been thinking?

hello friday,

where are you?
where is she?
where am i?

hello friday,

you are about to go
but i don't wanna meet you again.

hello friday,

bye!

hello friday,

tell me to stop
raining, thinking,
assuming and raining.
i am drowned already.

hello friday,

give me peace
tell the rain
to stop

hello friday,

tell me to stop
tell to tell her

hello friday,

are you going to save me
are you helping

goodbye, friday.

i'm gonna leave you.

and if you still don't understand

2008-08-05T21:17:00.001+08:00

when you are in the battlefield, you don't just pop your head out, shoot your enemies, and rely mainly on your bullet-proof vest.

you think, and wait for the right timing. then, you shoot.

and shooting is not just pulling the trigger. you aim with your scope, let the target fall on the dead center of the crosshair. and only after that you pull it.

you try to hide at first. not because you're scared but you patiently wait for the timing.

lastly, you don't attack and if nothing happens, you run away or foolishly defend yourself. you first have to protect your head, your arms, your torso.

i see you open, can i just shoot you in the head?

the storm

2008-04-08T13:02:00.000+08:00

the winds never cease to blow me away.
from school to work,
it leaves me breathless.

and every time a light would pass
through the mess hurling around
and with me,
stronger gusts would awash me.

this storm, how could i stop?

for i haven't learned the right prayer.
for i haven't seen the inspiration.
for i couldn't understand the hymn.

would this put me into a life
contained,
consumed
by a continuous hurricane?

biking

2008-04-08T12:30:00.000+08:00

it was a good thing that
the pedestrian lane wasn't that far.

and horizontals led me
to be constrained on
white with pink and white lines.

i knew i feel much safer in here.

and the new set of lines seemed
to be endless.

or not. because after the bridge,
they would suddenly disappear.

this might be the same feeling,
that they are trying to avoid
when driving alone.

at least i had these cars.
as music to my ears which
supposedly be covered with
earphones.

i couldn't stop thinking
just like how i envisioned
the lines would never cease.

this third set of broken lines
signaled me to take a turn.
and "halt!" said the lines.

that rose

2007-12-28T15:13:00.000+08:00

taking away her thorns
just makes her not adorable.

it would just leave her
defenseless.

because someone, like
me, shouldn't be
touching her

and should be staring
only at her

i just wondered how would
she live without the
thorns --

would she still be
that adorable rose?

one afternoon

2007-12-27T15:57:00.000+08:00

the second cup of coffee has gone cold.
and could have melted from my never ending stare.
i've been doing the ninoy,
that my right cheek has turned red.

the rain has to stop.

i've been walking in circles
with my arms on my head.
my heart's beating wildly
and it could no longer contain.

in a while, the sun would shine.

i am already holding the knob -
ready to push it.
but shouldn't i be cautious,
for someone might be standing behind it?

no, i should no longer wait for the moon.

i'd make this good, not bitter

2007-11-07T21:26:00.001+08:00

before we part, my love, i had to tell you this.
i really loved you in just a short period of time.
i did enjoy when we get to spend our time
together
at the ateneo, at the mall of asia, at eastwood,
and at ayala heights clubhouse.

but i'm never satisfied every time we go out.

it's really hard for me to pretend that
i'm happy when i'm with you.
but i guess, when the clock strikes at 12,
i'd be back to my true love.

don't worry, after a couple of weeks,
we'd be back. and i'm sure of that.
by then, you'd be giving me gifts.

though it's hard for me, i really have to say it...

...break, my love, we now break up.

posted also in
www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com

filipino series

2007-09-10T02:42:00.000+08:00

ang mga tulang nilikha para sa filipino103 na subject. halimbawa ang unang dalawang tula, luna(4) at tanaga ng mga tanaga. samantalang ang huling tula na, hindi ko na pilit pang papangalanan ito para hindi mo malaman na para sa iyo ito naman ay malayang taludturan.

malugod kong inihahandog ang mga tula

luna (4)

sa iyong kabilugan
aking matatagpuan
t'yak na kaligayahan
kasama ang katipan.

tanaga

bakit ganito ang hirap?
'di ko malasap-lasap
produkto ng pagsulat
isang tanagang ganap.

hindi ko na pilit pang papangalanan ito para hindi mo malaman na para sa iyo ito.

nakita pa kitang
umiiyak
sabi ko, "tahan na at limutin
mo."

mga luhang iyong ipinagkait
hindi man lang tumulo sa
aking balikat.

hindi naman kita paluluhain
sa halip ay patatahanin
sa pag-alok ng panyo o
ng balikat na masasandalan.

hangad ko'y tunay
at sa iyo'y ibibigay.

halika na't ilakad patungo
sa bagong direksiyon.

at hindi kita ililihis
sa daang
itinadhana.

this third one's good, luna

2007-08-25T14:32:00.000+08:00

i see you alone, luna.
alone with your only star.

you shine even brighter

tonight.

you are here

the star was here.

what is with the distance?
between

you

and him.

it's only today i see you together.

you still shine even brighter --
brighter than the last time i see you in
ha/lf.

2007-08-01T13:46:00.000+08:00

she should hear it:
i told it to the friends of her friends,
i once shouted it on top of a building,
i left a message on her old number.

she should read it:
i posted it on my blog (which she doesn't know),
i wrote it on my chemistry chair,
i even wrote it on air for her to see.

she should know me:
my fingers once had a slight contact with hers,
she once asked me for a light,

"i know i heard someone call me"
"i know i saw my name on a chair"
"who was this guy?"

salamin

2007-07-29T15:34:00.000+08:00

matagal na ibinabad sa kanilang apoy:
niluto sa pugon, ibinilad sa araw,
kanilang pagsasamahang pinatatag?
pinalakas? pinatibay?

hinubog ng magaling na manlililok,
kinorte sa isang mahusay na hugis.
ehemplo ng walang kamalian.

disenyong makulay,
gawang hindi matatawaran, ngunit

hindi sinadiyang itabig.

nahulog mula sa kataas-taasan.
hindi niya nasalo. hindi rin niya nasalo.

nabasag sa mga mumunting piraso
at wala man lang makabuo.
natinik lang sa pagpulot.

sa patuloy na pagtulo ng dugo,
hindi mapigilan ang luhang tumutulo.
at tila hindi na makabangon
mula sa pagkakayuko.

(2) luna

2007-06-03T17:33:00.000+08:00

lead me with your light,
luna.

lead me to your light,
luna.

lead me, just lead me,
luna.

poetry blown

2007-06-03T17:14:00.000+08:00

there it goes.
as soon as the point touches the paper,
all words fall into oblivion.

there it goes.
as soon as the fingers explored the keys,
all sense goes nowhere

there it goes.
as soon as the mouth hushed words,
all construction breaks into pieces.

there it goes.
as soon as the mind goes into revolution,
all of the words, sense and construction
fall into oblivion,
go nowhere
break into pieces.

luna

2007-05-24T00:24:00.000+08:00

luna

you shine so brightly,luna
in your fullness,
i'm lost in your light
in your crescent form,
still, lost in your light
with a quarter
i'm lost in your light

lost
terribly with your light

luna

you shine so brightly.luna,
where have all the stars gone?
nowhere to be found are the forms of clouds.

luna

you shine so brightly
luna, are you lonely? for hours,
i'm with you yet so far from you.
you rest in your elevated sky
as i intently stare at you from
the filthy creek.

luna

the crescent phase, i loved you.
the crescent face, i loved you.

eagle eyes

2007-03-25T07:14:00.000+08:00

he was the first to see, last to leave.

he went with his best clothes on.
he paces with a speed of two feet per quarter second.
he wipes off the sweat (out of excitement and anxiety) with a good morning.
he stops for a while.

eagle eyes he was.

he looked at her with contempt, curiosity and confidence.
he looked at him with pride, prejudice.

eagle eyes, still he was.

he viewed the board.
eagle eyed man was not there.

eagle eyed and jobless, he is.

i

2007-03-24T19:01:00.000+08:00

i wrote so much words.
i said nothing but a whisper.

i waved a hand.
i felt nothing from you.

i can always see you.
you can never see me.

goodbye...

2006-11-30T12:12:00.000+08:00

that was the last time that i saw her.
she was crossing the street as i take my last
glimpse of her.
each step became a quarter of a second to miss her.

i did not bother walking a few more walks
with her. for i know a time not so far away
will come when i have to walk again with her.

each of us had her hugged but i
did not listen to the words she hushed.
for i know a time not so far away will come
when i have to talk to her again.

though the ride gave me an idea
how edsa looked like on that lonely night,
i kept on picturing out her last image to me.
definitely it was one of the best yet most
depressing.

don't worry for on that same crossroad
we'll meet on a time not so far away.

another stalker moment

2006-11-19T06:20:00.000+08:00

she stood infront of me
waiting for her turn to have the reproduced paper.

silence was nothing but a music
but in me,
loud noise keep on bothering me.

"you are deadly, get away from me."

she was tall as i am.
her long hair laid rest on her shoulders.
and the locks accentuated her green flowing top.

her pants hugged her tightly
which showed off the beauty of her behind
and her well formed legs.

my legs trembled as i noticed her
looking at her back. only to realize
that she had to sit on the chair near her.

her aesthetically gifted posture stood out as
she crossed her legs. and my oh my,
my neurons were dead at instant.

traveling

2006-11-15T10:45:00.000+08:00

that structure of rusty yet sturdy metal
above and towering katipunan
hinted me to amaze myself at the clouds
fronting the vast blue sky.

roads branching out kept me traveling.
i am nowhere to be found.

tall and slim skyscrapers wiped me out
as they arranged themselves to a perfectly
lined up cover to the three o clock sun.

the vehicle went to its maximum speed
but i handbraked my eyes to see the valley
projecting its beauty despite the hills of loyola
and ranges of sierra cornered him.

and now, i realized that i have
good reasons to continue studying
in a land far away from home

kalabuan 1

2006-10-07T16:54:00.000+08:00

bakit ba kailangan ko pang ikahon
ang kawalang-hiyaan na 'to?
minsang natanggap at patuloy na
dinadama.

ninanais ko na ihandog ito.

sa tuwing ito ang gumagambala,
ang pagninilay ay nasisira.

hindi ko ito ninais pero sadyang
ito ang naghandog ng sarili
para lamang sa akin. at kailanman
hindi ninuman matatanggap.

sapat na sigurong sabihing
ito ay insulto - sa akin at sa kanya.
siya ang insulto. siya ang sakit.
poot na dinala niya ay hindi katulad ng
dati.

drops

2006-10-03T12:26:00.000+08:00

i waited at the shed.
rain poured so hard that it brought its friend
of cold wind.
umbrellas danced to the rhythm of the
6:59 pm waltz of rain and wind.

the light from the gasoline station exhibited
the highlight of the night.
he even suggested me to stay.
i knew nothing of going home to trouble myself.

i should have put my hands on the pocket of
my jacket.
i should have let the rain wet my face.
i should have walked on the rain.
i should have stayed or should have gone somewhere else.
i should have kept my mouth shut.

the array of trees oh so sturdy
kept me in my direction of absurdity.

and,

i should have not gone home this time.

tisyu

2006-08-29T12:39:00.000+08:00

hawak ko ang isang rolyo ng tisyu.
sa pagkakagapos nito,
hindi nito mapagtanto kung
ano ba ang kaniyang silbi.

sa basa o sa baho?

at sa mga nagmumurang lukot,
natagpuan ko ang tunay
at tiyak.

sa malansa at malapot na dugo
naidampi ito sa labi ko.

he was, is and will be living and leaving contradiction

2006-08-22T15:20:00.000+08:00

he sat on the still shiny varnished rocking chair.
as each swing, he waited as the sun drowned and disappear
to see its grandeur on the morning.
and to see he feels the rays of the sun fill the gaps
of his being aged - completes the day more than the cup of coffee
and cigar.

on the top of his home lived the dreams of his being on top
of the world.
he never wished that those high rise building would build
the interruptions on his aorta. the consolation he get
is to see people walk covered by not their own shadow,
the modern shadows of technology do.

he counted many times the cycle of day.
he never grew tired of it for to stop, it do. as the wrinkles add up
just like the rings, his mentality decreased. no one killed,
but someone did. the speed revolted violently.

on the steady veins of hands raved the oxygen but he firmly
grasped a little image of him. as he bodily depart, he welcomed
the black hole of childhood. gravity pulling him taught him
the physics of life which he soon and somehow understood
as karma.

the only solution is to hold the weapon straight into his face.
in his blood, if it would scatter violently, was all that was him.
this was the solution though he was. a snake on a snake.
the pleasure of the lungs clamoring for air is no different to
the nose exhaling what was once inhaled.

he closes eyes. he feels the darkness of the absence of light,
creep into his body. it made his ears deaf. it made his tongue tasteless.
it made his skin numb. it made his mouth mute. this is the closest thing
he could get to virtually perfect his hands closed on a fit box.

the still blue water was the still blue water. it was not just a was, it was and is and will be.

he still plays with his imaginary friend and thought. he was
the it, running for something he would never catch even a shadow
for that player even outcasted him. he carried it in his hunchback,
the worldly thought of his never ending it.

as irritating as the frustrated sneeze in his childhood,
no one would now even danced his dance of southpawed foot.
syncopated are the beat, just like how syncopated his heart was and
how syncopated his life is.
what a wonderful sight it is to see the aged danced of the different syncopated
dance they perform.

he saw the darkness of coffee and ashes, as he looked one morning,
the part of his life when he did not even understand a thing.
he continued to make a simile of the two, but this only put him into
a sleep he called a thing he never understood. the disillusion of
the letters formed to describe it was his most nostalgic remedy
of getting away from the thing he never understood.

if he now could stay awake in the middle of the nowhereness of
the night, then he could now sit still in his chair. all that he really wanted
was the darkness seep and creep into him and learn to accept
the darkness was the thing he never understood.

a ray of light filled his gaps of aged face slowly as the helenic view gave the solution.

vanity

2006-08-02T15:13:00.000+08:00

hold your camera parallel to the floor.
you can make an angle not greater than 90.
make faces...

put your chin on your shoulders.
put your chin on your kness.
put them anywhere you want
as long as you are lovely.

strike a pose.

press the shutter and see.
if not contented, put some shades on.
curl your hair. emphasize your bangs.
just down frown.

you are the best when take it at your bed.

he died on the street of pedro gil

2006-07-09T08:06:00.000+08:00

he died on the street of pedro gil.
he was dirty.
who made him dirty?
the street? the stagnant water?
the cigar butt? the candy wrapper?

his arms were stretched out,
seeking for my help,
your help, his and her help.

rain was falling down on his cheeks
and washing away the coins
on his frail hands

tattered clothes covered
his nudity but not the fact
he was dying on starvation of
care, love and help.

his cough so rough was heard
'round the corner of taft, making
music with the passing of buses,
fx's, jeeps and pedestrian.

and as his sight turned into
darkness,
clouding passers-by disgusted him
of what he was, what he has and who he was.

now, we are dying on the street of pedro gil.

paglalakbay

2006-06-26T08:30:00.000+08:00

at patuloy siyang maglakad
sa direksyong palayo sa
kadilimang bumabalot ng
isang dati'y nagsisiyahang araw.

pilit na inilagay sa pagkalimot
ang distansyang kanyang nilakbay
upang tahakin ang daan
tungo sa isnag kaligayahan.

hindi na muling makikita
ang daan pabalik sa isang
naging kasaysayan ng
kaligayahan at kapighatian.

sinabing ang mundo'y bilog
at sa kahit na papaanong
hakbang ng paa, isang kasiguraduhan
na siya ay haharap uli sa araw

7:52 pm disillusion?

2006-04-28T10:52:00.000+08:00

as i walk through the lonely streets
i met kirsten.
the night was young as she was
too young too be drunk.

i saw beauty amidst the darkness
of night: her height and figure
i would never forget, her short
yet appealing hair graced me and defined

what appealing was, her eyes had
the talent of smiling eccentricity,
her long fingers held (which i didn't mind)
a bottle of beer on right and cigar on left,

her complexion glowed and enligthened
the night. and surely, something etched
on my mind a smile i would definitely
love when she would be sober.

half-full, half-empty (title inspired from cueshe's album)

2006-04-18T09:59:00.000+08:00

i saw a boy of tattered clothes,
running from this car
to that car. he chased them
despite the heat of the sun.
he wore a cap reversed.
he wore a torn slippers
for he ran to this car
to that car. and he held
a bottled of mineral water
half-full of coins and
half-empty of promise
that he's going to be paid.

why i love summer

2006-04-18T06:15:00.000+08:00

blank summer sky,
i don't have any clouds to
cover up any lies and pretention.
honestly, i confess to the sun
"i love you hating me."
a humbling experience
of looking up to him
only to find my eyes
blinded and teary.
scorching heat and tanning rays,
hand me please sunglasses
for i have to look at his
eyes and again confess
"i love you hating me"

i dedicate this to a fireworks display show held last december 2005

2006-03-23T15:11:00.000+08:00

end the year with a bang!

war is waged! war is waged!

the twenty second of march.

march, the words

of hatred.

march, the words

of hatred.

march, the words

of hatred.

experience misery at its finest.

spill no blood,

spill no blood,

spill no blood.

no! brother! no! sister!

don't falter!

end it with me as we

watch the this lonely

and star-studded night of march

explode,

form another night

of brilliant fucking and crappy

words of hatred

just as how we celebrated the

world pyrotech show.

clap, clap, clap.

hooray!

clap, clap, clap.

hooray!

now come and join

in painting the town red!

war is waged! war is waged!

let's end the year with a bang!

kiss me

2006-03-17T16:49:00.000+08:00

come and take a ride as the
conductor takes out his hand.
four fingers denote four free seats.
you my lovely lady, have a
seat next to him. and how

i envy his dirty finger and
fingernails. they have this special
power of getting a girl of
immaculately clean clothes.

behold the power of his partner.

watch him light his cigar
and move his head to the rhythm
of the mind and heart blowing
sound of the treble and bass.

with his super great driving skills,
no wonder you'll arrive on time.
he even gives you a bonus,
memorable hair blowing experience.

thank guys, for dropping me off
on a secluded place. with no wallet,
cellphone and a dress. a flying kiss to
you, kiss me jeep three.

red letter day

2006-02-06T10:27:00.000+08:00

a red numbered day,
today. fifth of the second month.
no special holiday
but a sunday.

twenty one days away
from my birthday
a time to be merry
and gay.

how should i spent it?
it should be a hit,
and on the beat.

a mcdonald's party house,
maybe? or be a santa clause
giving away

something to the less fortunate.
oh great! but it is very
plastic of me

wanting to give when i
should receive. and if i
don't even have a thing.

so we'll just drown ourselves
with the orange sauce
of the burger mcdo

(and this is frustration, supposedly
it should be ketchup, tomato
and onions)

as we try to take a
grip of every french fry
held by ronald who

i am still confused for
hamburglar is a burger;
that bird is a fried chicken.

debate number one (where you and i are no winners)

2006-02-03T23:53:00.000+08:00

Why
i am not with you:
There's this distance,
and as we take each curve
we only find out that we are farther.

Why
i am not with you:
Let's just say we are when
you only wake up when we stop
and a mistake - for it was just a light from post.

Why
i am not with you:
It is drinking on the rocks
i feel the pleasure of guilt
i feel the guilt of pleasure.

Why
i am not with you:
You don't get me
as our hands slip everytime we touch
and understanding is not your thing.

written: january 26 2006, 2:21 am
check out the story on www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com

this was most disgusting feeling

2006-01-21T14:32:00.000+08:00

this was the most disgusting feeling,
sitting here a place we usually and used to call
mcdo.

it's such a shame to me and to them, letting my butt
i mean pants, touching the off-white long
benches.

seeing these people eat their hearts out as they burn
all the money is your penis surrendering the battle for
erection.

i want to vomit it all, the fries, the float, the yum
-- shit! burger mcdo, should i say, a
waste!

i have tasted the bitterness after all the sweetness
of their laughter coated not with sugar but
contempt.

as the dying seconds come to an end, it hastes
without the first s. the world, the clock and time
stopped.

people sipping out the hot fudge out of their floats
just like how they breath in smoke from cigars and
ganja.

and those skimpy skirts showing their souls,
i hate them, "the more you hate the more you
love."

and the ketchup and salt stains on their cellular phones
insulting my phone for being a 2G. Click, click, click on their
camphones.

their being filipinos are now hidden,
the cookie on the completely stirred Oreo
McFlurry.

now i found myself wiping what i puked.

starting line of the race to infatuation

2006-01-06T15:25:00.000+08:00

the 75th post on this blog waits.
he wonders like the child reading a science book
(a book whose errors reach not a hundred plus).

and as the fingers touched the keys
where no letter is present at all,
the brain thought of nothing but
to look left. to look right.

suddenly, typing became the preoccupation
of those lovely filthy fingers.
(look at those dirt in the nails.)
motivation spurred into the hands.

on an idiot box who is so foolish
to fool us around,
i saw this short-haired chick.

and all i want to say all the time
is chick. chick. chick.
and uhuh. uhuh. uhuh.
just like how beavis and butt-head do.

tears came no crawling.
instead,
saliva which showed no lust
but pure of affection and infatuation
on a girl named iwa.

(posted as: Trying it Out)
www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com
january 05, 2006

ironically speaking

2006-01-06T15:19:00.000+08:00

how ironic it is
having a toast with no one
supposedly
drinking wine with arms over mine

how ironic it is
giving you such a wonderful gift
and you
were only to give him what was mine

how ironic it is
i am so alone here, chairs blank, wind my company
thinking of you
occupies the couch like the way we used to

how ironic it is
thinking of my only you
yet
you were really over him

www.blackbluegrayallover.blogspot.com
may 05, 2005

number one

2006-01-06T15:17:00.000+08:00

you weren't there
when i was about to fall

the worse is that
it was you i needed the most

the bruise from my fall
was nothing

but what i learned was
the pain stabbing me

how do i get away with the scar
for it only reminds me of the tragic day

www.blackbluegrayallover.blogspot.com
april 04 2005

sonata ng ulan

2006-01-06T15:07:00.000+08:00

foolishly raining these past days.
it complements the feeling.
how i wish the rain's gonna stop.
end this all.
i'm stretching these arms of mine
and saying all apologies.
time has been untimely
bringing me these fateful events.
rain is now on my cheeks.
these hands turned into wipers
want to reach out for forgiveness
ready to take the consequences.
hope your going to read this
i do hope. sorry

www.lovelostintheshuffle.blospot.com
september 23, 2005

nakatutuwa

2006-01-06T15:05:00.000+08:00

nakatutuwa,
buti pa sila masaya.
ako, hindi. ilang araw na din.

ang lungkot,
ito ang aking naging kaibigan.
sa bawat araw na wala ako.
hindi ako, ikaw.

maari bang
pumutok na lang nang ganun
na lamang
ang isang baril
kung hindi ito ikakasa?

nakita ko.
hindi ko naramdaman.
bulag akong tumitingin
sa bawat ligaya ng iyong labi.
at dahil sa tahimik na ikaw
nabingi ako.

kailan pa
kaya sisikat ang buwan
sa isang umagang tinatawag
nilang bukas?
salamat sa isang tala
naliwanagan ako ng husto
upang mawala sa landas.

nakakatuwa
ako? "hindi" ang aking sagot.
kailanman wala.
isang wala ang pumupuno
sa aking damdamin na
puno ng meron.
hindi na mapipigilan,
isang hayop na ulol.

at sa huli alam ko.
marami pang nakakatuwa
hindi sa akin
kung hindi sa lipunan.
nakuntento na ako
sa meron na ibinibigay ko
upang maging wala
at malimutan na parang
isang taong grasa. isang ako.

www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspo.com
october 10, 2005

no, i really don't want to but

2006-01-06T14:58:00.000+08:00

no, i really don't want to but
i wanna see your face conform
with what i see everyday.
well, actually, when it's you i see.
i may no longer appreciate you
yesterday.
though today i liked you
more than yesterday.

your skin of porcelain,
your sweet and blood red lips,
your eyes of perfection
i can't help but be lost.
just like this reality,
i can no longer have you.
such a frustration,when time conspired not to
be with you.

wish,
for a hope is also,
put this into stop.
and now i can feel
this sudden rush going against me.
no, i really don't want to but
for you a world maybe.

www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com
october 11, 2005

and here i go again

2006-01-06T14:50:00.000+08:00

at sa gabing ikaw ang tinatangis
maari bang mapagbigyan
ang isang hiling na
alam kong imposible.

umalis ka,
sa isang gabi. isang araw.
sapat na ang alaala,
ikaw na kapiling.

hindi ko ginusto.
sinong pipigil
sa isang dakilang manlilinlang,
tadhana.

sa tagal ng ating
pagsasama,
inisip ko kung ang
lahat ng ito ba ay totoo?

bumalik tayo
sa isang dati,
ngunit lahat ng ito
nawala.

www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com
november 07, 2005

this girl of boredom

2006-01-06T14:40:00.000+08:00

there was this girl of fortune.
she spent all her life buying things,
one could not afford
one could never imagine.

never in her life she was late.
brand new technologies.
freshest food.
up-to-date belongings.

a collector of men.
for her beauty (thanks to extravagance)
is a possession prized by
many of blinded sight.

armageddon.
she never feared.
all she got to back her up
is all she had spent fortune on.

time passed.
it was a thing she forgot.
(she) never knew how expensive it was
for no individual already bought it.

it destroyed her technologies.
it rot away her food.
it lost her belongings.
it left her in the air alone.

alone,
she is in the dark.
looking for all the things, gone they are.
sarcastically, time sticks its tongue out on her.

crazy
she was.
and people thought she was alright,
and deserving of what has happened.

realization went
into her somewhat shattered mind.
this girl of fortune was
just a girl of boredom.

now she lived next to me.
i fear nothing of her.
for i know everyone has
this girl of boredom.

www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com
december 22, 2005

kudos to a human(maybe not) named gelo

2006-01-06T14:38:00.000+08:00

today is the second day of classes.
i've grown tired or shall i say,
inspired.
not because of her, but because of him.

speak me not of a gay,
i'll tell you this in a straight way.
inspired
i am, of angelo v. suarez.

i just want to thank him.
he just opened me a world where i am most
inspired.
this writer, of past and present,

a memory and pride of ust,
has this very special and eccentric talent and
inspired
he is or is it because i just fantasize

having a great knowledge of words
and talent and is talent instead.
inspired?
did i just make a copy of him?

www.lovelostintheshuffle.blogspot.com
january 05, 2006

congratulation

2006-01-06T14:31:00.000+08:00

for all the people
this is my blog specially made
for my post
which are all of poetry.

forced out poetry.

poems from my other blog.

i dream this collection of poems
would be put into publication.
i wanted not need it.
a want and dream.