Tag: poetry

Mindless, Boundless

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Why so serious? 
The veins in your hands keep tapping
Reminding you of daybreak
You pick a fork to cut them out
But, they keep fighting for life

Why so serious again?
Bothered by the sound of the wind
Reminding you of your own breathing
You block the windows with iron bars
But, the wind whistles through the gaps

Why, you ask again?
With open eyes, you see the sunrise
Reminding you of yesterday’s miseries
You pick a chair to stop the memories
But, you heard a knock, once and twice

Why are you smiling now?
A stranger’s voice passes through the wall
“Hello? Is anyone there?” 
You want to say hi
But, you could only tap the wall once
“Good. Let’s be friends for a while.”

Why smiling looks good now?
You kicked the chair to the side
Pressed your face to the wall
Listened to the wind from the gaps
Felt the tapping of your veins
Followed the rhythm of the other one’s breathing

Good. 
Count to three.
Why so serious?

Lettuce of Love

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Red roses turn dark all over
Leaves fall on the grounds
Heavy footsteps approach
With the crisp break of dry leaves
It’s the season again of cleaning up
And making quick deals
To see the colors of red,
Blue, and purple all around

Pack all the songs of youth
For a strength unknown
Bring the lively drums
Of the beating heart of a child
For today is another day
Of lovemaking of gods
When one tells the other
To hide all the colors
Under a shirt or two
And keep the mystery of love

Prism

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As tiny bits of red petals fill the empty jars

The air fills up with the stench of yesterday’s death

With the crowd quickly crowding above the town

Children start going out of their little boxes

Pushing their way up the slopes of deserted land

They step cautiously with their mouths shut

Their tiny feet soak with the blackish mud

They scan the place left in the aftermath

As one by one they see familiar colors of the past

They rush with quiet steps towards the pile

A glimmer of blue, yellow, and blue pop up

Yet they are all touched by the red spots

Others got a bit darker now after the first blow

But the children didn’t know as they poked the colors

“Mama?,” one of the little children said

“Papa?,” the others call from the far left

Hiling

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Hindi lang sa Quiapo nakikinig ang butihing Maykapal
Minsan sa paglalakad ay may Aleng makapagtatanggal
Sa mga munting itinatagong sugat, siya’y may itatapal
Ilahad lang palad at uuwi ka nang may bagong dangal

Huminga at itigil muna ang iyong mahabang paglalakad
Marahang ibukas at ipakita ang linya ng iyong kanang palad
Umupo sa silya at maghintay sa tapat ng mesang malapad
Na dala lagi ng Aleng bihasa na sa ganitong pamamalakad

Kung di pa sapat, itanong ang laman ng iyong isipan
Maiging magmasid nang iyong lubos na maunawaan
Ang misteryong ipinagdiriwang sa harapan ng simbahan
Buksan ang mga mata sa dalang tunay na kasagutan

Kung itong mga pagbasa ay hindi pa rin sasapat
May isa pa namang baon ang Ale na maaaring ipangtapat
Sa kung ano pa mang kailangan ng iyong pagsisipat
Inaakalang ang sagot ay nagpapalaki lang sa mga lamat

Pula, berde, dilaw, ano ang kulay ng iyong kahilingan?
Pumili lang sa may Aleng nakaabang sa iyong harapan
Tiyak na ang isip mo ay unti-unting malilinawan
Sa panalangin mo kasi ang mga kandila ay may dalang kasagutan

Snaps, Shots, and Shakes hands

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Moonlight draws the crowd closer to the sound
Searching for shadows eaten by the nearby ground
Was it a cry or a scream of a boy who has yet to be found
By the party taking snaps of tears falling on the mound

This is the day, the last of summer as they say
People should be jumping for joy and not dismay
But it seemed like November has come early this May
As the shots are heard on the colorful end of day

Tiny steps walk towards the tiny gaps above
A growing smudge of red fills the cover of the glove
Worn by a person smiling, showing some love
Who later cleans his hand as he shakes the escaping dove

Wednesday Poetry

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It seems like a late start, but I hope to bring life back to my blog. I haven’t written anything in the past couple of months as I simply tried to find better ways to adjust to my teaching job. Now, I will try to begin a new routine to bring myself back to writing. I hope to continue with this. As a first, let me leave this one here:

Good Morning

Hinga, May Isa Pa

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Sa pagsayaw ng liwanag ng kandila sa ating harapan
Pakaliwa’t pakanang pagsabay sa ating bawat paghinga
Minsan inaakala nating patapos na ang problemang noo’y nagpahirap
Sa puso nating punong-puno na ng di magagandang alaala
Na may iilang natirang peklat katabi nang unti-unting naghihilom na sugat

Kaso sa bawat hakbang pasulong at sa paglapat ng liwanag
Dahan-dahang nagbabalik ang hapdi sa mga gasgas na naghilom
Na ipinanalangin natin nang taimtim na sana’y di na magbalik
Pero ngayo’y nagbabadyang muling bumukas at magpahirap
Na muling kikirot habang pilit nating huwag pansinin

Kaya yata talaga matalinghaga ang takbo ng ating tadhana
Minsan ang liwanag kasi’y natatakpan ng mga ulap
Na pilit naman nating itinataboy sa pag-ihip
Ng mainit na hiningang nagsasabing

Ako at ika’y buhay pa

Na ano man ang mangyari, may isa pa tayong panangga
Ang huminga at magpatuloy sa pagharap sa kung ano pang ibato ng tadhana

Matuto rin tayong magpahinga upang tayo ay makalaya
Ihanda ang ating mga mata sa pagmasid sa paglubog at pagsikat ng araw
Magasgasan mang muli, kumirot mang muli ang ating mga puso
Mabulag man saglit sa kislap ng liwanag ng mga nakaraan
Tayo ay magpapatuloy, may isa pa tayong hininga

Magandang Umaga, Tara!

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Dumudungaw ang mainit na haplos ng liwanag
Mula sa kurtinang dahan-dahang sumasayaw
Sa bawat pagbati ng malamig na hangin

Unti-unting umaangat mula sa sahig na pulang-pula
Mga alaalang binabagtas ang makinis na paalala
Isang bagong umaga ang masayang bumubulaga

Ang tahanang noo’y puno nang sapot na ipinaikot-ikot
Sa may sulok na nalimot na ng panahon
Ngayo’y tahanan na rin nang mga alikabok
Na may bahid ng saya’t lungkot ng kahapon

Mga ngiti nang pag-uunat ng mga sanggol ang sagot
Sa pagbuka nang palad tiyak na ang pagkalimot
Sapagkat sa umagang ito tuluyang babangon
Magsisimula ng bagong pahina sa libro ng pagbabago

Ineng, ineng ang baga ay nasa iyong paanan
Totoy, tara sumigaw nang pagkagilagilalas
Ganito ang hiling ng mga mumunting bumabagtas
Sa dagat na puno ng alon at pag-aalala
Sa kagandahang dapat sana’y noon pa nakita

Dumudungaw ang mainit na haplos ng liwanag
Mula sa kurtinang dahan-dahang sumasayaw

Unti-unting umaangat mula sa sahig na pulang-pula
Mga alaalang binabagtas ang makinis na paalala

Isang bagong umaga ang masayang bubulaga

Ongoing Passion Project

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Dance with the midnight Sun

Poetry with a bit of darkness in it.

Poetry with a bit of darkness in it.The year 2017 is almost over and in a couple of months, people will be doing their new year’s resolutions again while I’m still stuck on the list that I don’t know where I got the idea from exactly. Nevertheless, in the remaining days of this year, I will work on something that I think (still not sure, though) I can finish. *fingers crossed*

 

 

 

 

 

 

Estranghero

A work in progress. Still yet to complete.

With these two, I hope to go back to my old habits where I am not yet preoccupied with work concerns. The poetry may seem like a hodgepodge of sorts, but, they are because those works were from random pieces I wrote in a span of years. Then, the Estranghero is my chance to bleed some senses to a possible full manuscript. So, here’s a great end to 2017.

Music Playlist for the Rainy Days

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Wild fire kisses the first rain drop
With the wind for the moonlight
Of ashes waving their final goodbye
As the rainy day comes for their welcome

Flames throw a great pas de deux
With the touch lingering in the heart
Of the prisoners of the dark
Praying for a savior in the light

This is the rainy day
To quench the thirst
To brighten the way
For those lost and dried
Out of ropes to climb
And hopes or smiles