Showing posts with label Poem & What Not. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poem & What Not. Show all posts

9/2/24

Puffs and Hopes

Puffs and Hopes

9/02/2024

He went to the terrace,
lit his cigarette,
breathed in another hope
as he puffed a mouthful of smoke.

He stooped a little,
whispered about his life like a riddle,
puffed a mouthful of smoke,
as he breathed in another hope.

He stared into the distant sky
recalled how many has already been his countless tries,
breathed in another hope
as he puffed a mouthful of smoke.

He heaved a sigh,
wondered whether he would cry or die,
puffed a mouthful of smoke,
as he breathed in another hope.

He looked down the empty road,
felt it in his heart the heavy load,
breathed in another hope,
as he puffed a mouthful of smoke.

He watched the passing moment,
wondered how his time quickly went,
puffed a mouthful of smoke
as he breathed in another hope.

He stood straight, eyes forwarded,
Said to himself, tired but hopeful, but I am needed
puffed the last mouthful of smoke
breathed one more hope.
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12/4/21

Lest

12/04/2021



Dearest,
I feel like, for a while, I haven't been at rest.
Lately, I don't feel much like myself or at my best.
In this world, that's just the way of things, I guess.
Life, yes, 
it sucks—
one moment, it's like a gritty urban drama,
then shortly after, it shifts into a sidesplitting jest.
It's like the splendid view of an erupting volcano—a beautiful disaster—
only to turn into some kind of old-time mess.
I suppose it’s a quest or a test:
to brave that sea with nothing but a vest.
So yes, 
step into the world dressed
with spirit and zest.

Greatly,
Dearest
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Nay, Nasan Ka Na?

12/04/2021



Ilang araw na mababaw ang luha,
siguro ilang araw na rin kasing pinipigilan ang pag-iyak.
Nakakulong sa dibdib ang bigat
na hindi maibulalas.
Ang hirap buhatin,
nakakasakal sa lalamunan—
parang may pighating nakabara roon,
gusto nang kumawala,
pero tinitikom ang bibig
para hindi umimpit
ang sakit na ilang araw nang binobote
ng nagpapanggap na tapang.

Lihim na tumatakas ang luha, minsan,
tuwing walang tao at nakapako
ang titig sa kawalan.
Minsan tulala,
tinatanaw ang mga alaala
na sana’y kayang buhayin
ng pagnilay-nilay.

Nasaan ka na kaya, Nay?

Sumisikip ang dibdib tuwing
iniisip na marahil naglalakbay
ka lang mag-isa…
Tinatawag ang mga pangalan namin,
pero hindi na abot ng boses mo
ang mundong nilisan mo na.
At ang sakit isipin na hindi na kita makikita
tuwing umaga, paggising ko.
Hindi ka na hihingi sa akin ng pabor
na isabay ang kape mo sa pagtimpla ko.
Hindi na kita masusubuan ng kanin at hiniwa-hiwang saging.
Hindi mo na kami makukulit at pauutusan
na matulog sa gabi.

Nay, nasaan ka na?

Umiiyak ang puso ko.
Nalulungkot ang puso ko.

Hindi na uli kita makikita.
Gusto kitang makita, tulad ng mga nakaraang karaniwang araw.
Gusto kong muling mabuhay sa mga panahong iyon.
Dahil kasabay ng paglisan mo sa pisikal na mundo
ang pagpanaw ng bahagi ng puso ko.
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4/10/21

In chaos, that's where...

In chaos, that's where...

4/10/2021



He's on the stage,
and they can feel the magic.
His silhouette glows against
the frisky, tight arc of lights,
the center of his musical space
dimmed by the smoky hues
of passionate breaths.

A cacophony of deafening sounds erupts:
stereo melodies living in their ears,
the impassioned gusto of instrumentals
enduring their fleeting incapability,
jarring voices echoing through the crowd,
and the commotion of thoughts in their heads
(the ones they keep forcing back
into some semblance of order).

But they’ve always been here—
comfortably,
or maybe because they’ve grown used to it:
the chaos,
where the scent of sweat mingles
with collective urban gasps
of weary, depressed souls.

The melody of his voice
echoes their experiences—
the brokenness,
the confinement,
the weight of mental exhaustion.

And when he reaches out,
touching the air,
his gaze fixed somewhere between
the void and the burdened sea of eyes,
they feel
escaped.

He whispers his song;
they exhale their agony.

This is the art of solitude.

Lost in the crowd—
not apart,
but alone,
together.

They defy the world.
They fixate on something unseen,
hearts skipping in sync with the pulsing stereo.

He bangs his head,
and they sway theirs with abandon.
He leaps higher,
and their spirits rise with him.
The music crescendos, deafening,
lungs heavy with euphoria.
Lights blink,
momentarily blinding their weightless eyes.

That moment—a fragile line—
they’re suspended
between emptiness and depth,
living in two worlds at once:
the slap of reality,
and the rush of fantasy.
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1/17/17

Ominiscient

Ominiscient

1/17/2017

 


Rolling unnoticed for the third silent time,
Darkest secrets veiled behind cumulus skies.
Whispers of love unfurl in a restless crowd,
As hidden stares weave between two silhouettes.

The softest brush of longing hands,
Shadows cast by the same yearning.
Strangers breathing the same trembling air,
Near enough to touch—
yet heartbeats lost in different worlds.

Stolen kisses when the world spins blind,
Bodies intertwined as the stars forget to wink,    
Mates of each other's soul
As the universe slips quietly into sleep.

They are the forgotten roses,
Withered beneath broken promises.

A sliver of light,
born between the sun's sigh and the moon’s first breath.

Souls untethered,
All-knowing in a story no one else can read.
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