Tag Archives: poetry

2017 for 2017, 194-200:

Cusp between days
Threshold of hours
meeting point of
yesterday and tomorrow

 

where today
can possibly
disappear


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Ibig Kong Ika’y Payapa (Salin ng Me Gustas Cuando Callas / I Like For You To Be Still ni Pablo Neruda)

Ibig kong ika’y payapa, na parang halos isang puwang,
At nauulinigan mo lang ako sa kalayuan at hindi ka makalabit ng aking tinig,
At tila ang iyong mga mata’y pumailanlang,
At pawang sinelyahan ng halik ang iyong mga labi.

Kung paanong ang lahat ng bagay ay puspos ng aking diwa
Umuusbong ka mula sa lahat ng ito, puspos ng diwa ko.
Panaginip na paru-paro, kagayak ka ng aking kaluluwa
At kahawig ng salitang panglaw.

Ibig kong ika’y walang imik, na para bang kay layo mo,
Parang nananaghoy, mariposang tumatangis.
At nabobosesan mo ako mula sa kalayuan at hindi ka naaabot ng aking tinig:
Papasukin mo ako’t patuluyin sa iyong katahimikan

Dinggin mo ko sa iyong pagtahimik, mangusap tayong walang imik
Singlinaw ng sinag, singpayak ng singsing.
Tulad ka ng gabi, tahimik at binalangkas ng mga tala.
Ang hinahon mo’y buhat sa mga bituin, humahayo’t maaliwalas.

Ibig kong ika’y walang imik, na para bang hindi kita kapiling.
Malayo’t may kirot, na para bang ika’y namayapa.
Mangusap ka, kahit isang ngiti ay sasapat
At ako’y liligaya, maliligayahan sapagkat ito’y hindi ganap.

 

Isinalin ni Anj Heruela, Abril 2016

 

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Iyong Ngiti (Salin ng ‘Tu Risa’ ni Pablo Neruda)

Iyong Ngiti

Salin ng Tu Risa ni Pablo Neruda

Pagkaitan mo na ako ng pagkain, kung nais mo
Pigilan ang aking paghinga pero
huwag mo naman sana akong pagdamutan ng iyong ngiti.

Huwag mong alisin ang rosas,
ang sibat na iyong kinakalbit,
ang bulwak ng tubig
na umaagos sa iyong tuwa,
daluyong ng pilak na iyong isinisilang.

Nagbabalik ako mula sa sagarang pagdurusa,
Tumatangging tumanaw pa
Sa nagbibitak-bitak na lupang inaamag na’t nabubulok,
Pero sa tuwing umuusbong ang iyong halakhak
Upang tawagin ako saanmang alapaap mapadpad,
Ang lahat ng pintuan ng buhay
Ay isa-isang nabubuksan.

Ikaw ang silay ng liwanag
sa mga pinakamadilim na oras, irog.
At kung sakali mang makasalubong mo sa lansangan
ang bakas ng aking dugo,
Tumawa ka,
Sapagkat ang iyong tawa
Ay tatangan sa aking mga kamay
Na parang bagong espada.

Sa dalampasigan sa taglagas,
Kailangang pumailanlang ang lagaslas
ng iyong halakhak.
Sa tagsibol naman, irog,
Asam ko ang iyong ngiti
Tulad ng pinakahinihintay na pamumukadkad
Ng mga asul na talulot,
rosas ng bayang umaalingawngaw.

Tawanan mo ang gabi,
Ang araw, ang buwan,
Tawanan ang pulu-pulupot
Na mga daanan ng kapuluan
Tawanan itong malamyang
Nilalang na iniibig ka
ngunit kapag ako’y dumilat
at muling pumikit,
kapag pumaroon ang mga yapak ko,
kapag nanumbalik,
ikaila mo na sa akin ang pagkain, hangin
liwanag, at tagsibol
pero huwag na huwag ang iyong ngiti
dahil ito ang aking ikamamatay.

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A Kind of Nightmare

Intrepid, the ceiling stared back
fully aware of slumber’s abandon
While I lay there wrenched in the gut,
eyes peeking out of a blanket of black.

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Proximity

Across where you are, you’ll see,
We’ll meet where the sun meets the sea.

Like thread through a spread
of cloth coloured deep blue,
our fingers will weave through
the fabric of the Pacific, riding
the rise and fall and roll and
crash of waves that slip
into the palm of the shore.
Where changing sands mark the distance
between here and where you are–
nearness begins
where the ocean ends and expands.

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365 for 2013: (11) Mirrors and Walls

The light hits the glass
and meets the eyes.
Fractions of the room are drawn
together, framed, illuminated.
A new painting, the image conceived
beckons truth
and lies.

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365 for 2012: (10) An Exercise in Writing Letters No. 1

20130927-131007.jpg
The thoughts ran faster than the words could
arrange themselves neatly in line. Properly
waiting to nod their heads
at the end of the sentences.

So I rearrange them again.

And in carefully placed punctuations
and calculated silences between syllables,
I fold myself silently. Breaking
into shards and splinters
so that in the gaps where the thoughts are unsaid
pieces of me could slip in quietly,
almost unseen.
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365 for 2013: (1) When The Sun Sets

Yes, I just changed the year. Let’s see if I can go beyond 67 this time 🙂

———-

Utterly fascinating, universe. This is my 113th entry on 1/13/2013 exactly a year after my first entry in 1/13/2012.

The first one was called When The Sun Sets.

This is the image of how my fantasy should be processed by my brain.

There’s a thick cloud covering a great portion of the sky, drawing a straight line that defines where the stars appear and disappear. The horizon should stretch as far as the eyes could see, but heaven sets its limits on mine.

Fair enough. The divide between the starry and starless sky evens out as the night deepens anyway. And the stars do shine bright. They pop out in the dark. Twinkling and dancing, too.

Now, let’s take the same title, but let’s see where movements of heaven will take us this time.

———-

On the road, they follow the path

set for home, they trudge on

the streets that lose and take

up space. Crowded, they flow. Smears

of sunset on tinted windows

 

there it goes—

 

then gone, then there again, a flash

so soon missed by eyes

that blink, and clouds that trick

sight about light, celestial bandits.

On the road up in space,

they make their way home:

into each other, crowding

together before falling

back home.

 

A shard of sunset disappears

In the glare of a streetlight.

 

Dusk has pulled out its carpet

on the road. Above us,

a map of needle-tip lights appears:

our way back

home.

               

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365 for 2012: (67) Resolute

It is not that one has not tried again and again to alter the course of the lines or the sound of the waves that bounce off the page. It is that there are stubborn thoughts that will not yield. It is that it already is what it should be as it was first conceived: as if  without beginning but with a definite end. 

——————————————–

And if my fingers find themselves

lost through your hair again,

if i take a whiff of you again

own you for one brief moment again

Then let go. And lose all these

that I’ve known. Will they say

it’s so wrong? Then set fire

to my soul. Nothing changes.

At the thought of your eyes alone

I burn. Again and again.

And from the ashes at your feet

I rise, again and again.

 

From the beginnings of the last quarter

October 16, 2012

 

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Overtaken, Underrun

Self-proclaimed casualties on a street

with no signs, one way

or another: the other can’t

go on, the other gets left behind.

 

 

**not filed under 365 for 2012 because this one is from the year past:

December 30, 2011 while making my way up North

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365 for 2012: (59) Para Sa Aming Mga Anak At Susunod Pa

Aba ginoong Mariya

nauubusan na kami ng grasya.

Bukod kaming pinahihirapan:

babae, lalake, tomboy, bakla.

Anong pagpapala pa ang aasahan ng aming mga anak?

Santa Mariya ina ka rin naman.

Kung para sa aming kapakanan

Paano nagiging makasalanan?

Hihintayin niyo pa ba kaming magkamatay-matay?

 

Amen? Inyo na lang.

 

——————————————————-

While I am seriously bordering on hair-pulling-head-banging-on-the-wall frustration, these are the times when I have to tap on my own faith and implore my muses of patience. There are just some people you cannot reason with. As for the rest of the more supposedly comprehending populace, how about taking a read at this and finally actually gaining a sense of understanding about what we’re fighting for? It’s easy. Ten items, really. Bite-size, if you may.

 

TEN FACTS ABOUT THE RH BILL.

 

 

I have no other comprehensive or pa-profound take on the issue. It’s supposed to be crystal clear, no need for frills.

My only prayer now is that people actually truly understand what valuing human life really means and how we show that in this generation reflects on how the next generation will view life as it is.

Amen.

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365 for 2012: (52) Fluid

beyond surface marks,

a ripple embeds itself.

the presence persists

———————

May 23, 17:50 pm. Revisiting the thought.

touching the   beyond surface marks,

a ripple embeds itself.

the presence persists

persisting presence.

And  this gives birth to another thought.


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365 for 2012: (51)

Hear my body sigh:

I miss you like you were mine.

Always never here.

**This time, without title.

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Monday Morning Blurtout / 365 for 2012: (44-50) Estimated Arrivals, Definite Departures

there is nothing to prompt this note. it is half past ten and yet it feels like the hour hasn’t moved past three AM. only the fan moves in the living room, whirring steadily. while i listen to a hipster playlist made for mornings like this by a stranger somewhere i’d like to meet someday. there are options to get up and eat or clean up the room or — just get the fuck up. but i’m still in bed, stuck.

somebody, please remind me how do i pick up myself from this. or, no, yeah, leave me alone.

—————-

another strange dream

i would like to revisit,

lost under the sheets.

 –   

under the blanket

there is a body missing,

another concealed.

 –   

under the pillow

fingers search for another,

that cannot be there.

 –

the bed, a landscape

of plains, crevices, cliffs: vast.

 we travel this way.

 –

there’s a map somewhere,

find yourself searching for years

when you go to sleep.

 –   

the return ticket,

the cost of a memory,

brings you back: awake.

 –

strange dream, you again,

always there. where will you be?

gone in the morning.

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365 for 2012: (38) Left Unsaid

Don’t say anything.

We’ll let the universe speak.

It knows our heartbeat.

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365 for 2012: (35, 36, 37) After Midnight

 

I.

Stay up to keep up

and converse while the world sleeps.

Darling and discreet.

II.

Only the dawn knows.

Our silly little secret:

Promises unkept.

III.

Conversations end

when words no longer suffice.

Lips, tongues cross the lines.

 

 

 

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365 for 2012: (34) Traces of You In Me

Marked territory.

We are covered by our dirt.

Flying back to dust.

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365 for 2012: (31, 32, 33) Step Forward Further Behind

I. 

A door is slammed shut.

Is it an act of courage

if you didn’t look back?

 

II.

Walk on to nowhere.

What’s there to be afraid of?

You’ve left. Move on. Go.

 

III.

The urge to move is

just as strong as the fear of

being left behind.

***Upon the end of April we find out: nothing ever truly disappears. Sound behaves as such: static, in the air, abuzz to those who strain to hear.

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365 for 2012: (29) Unsaintly Reminder

Faultless flirtations

anticipate bad endings.

Woo with certainty.

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365 for 2012: (28)

**I know, I know. It feels incomplete. It’s not supposed to be whole yet. It will get there. 

 

I am on my way 

Up north. The highway stretches

on. Another sign.  

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365 for 2012: (27) Missed Call

 

Put the phone down. Don’t

let it tear open old scars

and create new wounds.

 

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365 for 2012: (26) Grey Weather

**Because the rain came too early in February.

Not the only one

left behind, will not stay, who

gets wet in the rain.

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365 for 2012: (25) Sa Simbahan ng Iyong Pagsinta

**This poem is derived from my first translation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 105. I totally soiled myself upon hearing the music composed for this poem because it had so much of the feel of Fitzsimmon’s Goodmorning which is my sort of anthem at the time. So I did a little tweaking here and there to really place the words with the sound. So here it is.
 
 

Pagsinta ko’y di basta-bastang pagsamba,

Dahil ang iniibig ko’y hindi isang diyos na bato

At lahat ng awit at pagpupugay ko ay takda

Sa kanya, nag-iisa, siya nawa.

 

Siya na nga.

 

Banal sa paggising, dalisay hanggang pag-idlip

Sa kahanga-hangang dangal, walang tinag, nananatili

Kung kaya’t salita ko’y tapat ring nakapinid

Ito’t ito lang, taimtim kong sinasambit

 

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo,

ang lahat ng aking katwiran

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo,

sa ibang salita ma’y nailalarawan

 

Ito ang layaw ng dila kong makata

Ang alay kong pagdarasal

Sa simbahan ng iyong pagsinta

Puso ko’y nangungumpisal

 

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo,

kadalasa’y hiwa-hiwalay

Itong lahat ay nagsanib sa’yo

Sa kabuuan mo’y nananalaytay.

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo,

Siya nawa,

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo,

Ikaw na nga.

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365 for 2012: (24) Contact

Because we’re all suckers to this Hallmark holiday anyway.

Staring, you catch me.

Our two seconds of romance.

Here’s to more, more, more. 

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365 for 2012: (23) Dealing with Departures

Before you leave, don’t

forget your return ticket.

Reconsider? Stay.

**This haiku deserves a follow-up ramble on how — bam.

I just can’t deal. It’s so unfair universe. I just can’t deal.

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365 for 2012: (22) Slash and Burn

Through thickets of texts

a woodland of words unfold.

Stories, forests, told.

*Now just look at what this random haiku’s become with a little tweak. A sort of about  and introduction to whatever there is.  

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365 for 2012: (21) Tuloy ang Sagutan

And we continue the game.

 

Sabi niya:

Tama, dapa

Hulog, untog

Pero iba ang nangangarap sa nahihibang

Iba ang naniniginip sa nababaliw

Iba ang nilalagnat sa inaapoy

Iba ang naghahanap ng langit

Sa tinakasan ng bait

Hindi pinipiling pikit-matang tumalon

O kagat-labing umurong sulong

Walang pinipiling lasa ang dila

Walang pinipiling tama ang tula

Matamis na ang lahat ng pait

Sa tinakasan ng bait

At pwede mo sabihing

Nahanap mo na ang sarili

Nahanap mo na ang pag-ibig

Dahil nawala na ang lahat…

 

 ——————————–

Sabi ko:

Kahit ang usok na naglalaho sa kalawakan

Sumasanib sa ulap, bumabalik bilang ulan.

Ito ang mga bagay na hindi natin napapansin:

Ang pagsuyong nakaipit

Sa paminsan-minsang ‘di pag-imik;

Ang tamis na nakapinid sa pagitan

ng mga labing nakailag sa pait;

Ang digmaan sa dugong pinapaikot

ng pagtibok ng pusong may sakit.

Ito ang pira-pirasong katotohanang iyong matitikman.

Masinop na itinupi ang mga hiwaga ng mundo

At ikinubli sa mga sulok ng kaluluwa,

ingat na ingat na inialay sa kalaguyo.

Ito lang ang katotohanang kinakailangang mabatid.

Ganito ang mga bagay na hindi natin namamalayan

Akala mo’y wala, yun pala’y nariyan.

Ang galos hangga’t hindi mo nakitang nagdurugo,

Kaiba man ang pakiramdam ay di pa rin kikirot.

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365 for 2012: (Twenty) Playmates

Much like a child’s game

we only hide to be found.

So stay still. Don’t blink.

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365 for 2012: (Seventeen, Eighteen) Sagutan ng Nalipasan ng Gutom at Kulang sa Inom

This exchange started because a very cool guy sent in a very cool translation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 17. The lines were just there staring at me, pulling out verses from my guts, prompting some wordplay. I just had to write back. So I did and he answered. So I wrote again. I’m still waiting to see if he’ll write some more. I hope the game never ends.

(Translation of William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 17 by Froilan Medina)

Sinong maniniwala sa isusulat ko

Kahit puro tungkol sa iyo

Kung gaano ka kaganda

Kung gaano ka katamis

Kahit ganda lang ng mata mo

Kung mailalagay ko

Sa salita, sa notebook, sa ipad

O sa palad

Hindi pa rin sapat.

At wala pa ring maniniwala

Sinong maniniwala?

Sinong maghihinala?

Sa tula sa dulo ng aking dila

Na wala kang kasingganda

Ikaw lang, ikaw na

At ang dalawang gabi ng iyong mga mata

Sasabihin nilang kalokohan

Sasabihin nilang nalipasan

lang ng gutom

O nasobrahan ng inom.

Isang imahenasyong

pumapalag at nagwawala

sa pagitan ng iyong hita

sa gitna ng isang tula

sa dulo ng aking dila.

Sinong maniniwala sa isusulat ko

Kahit puro tungkol sa iyo

Kung gaano ka kaganda

Kung gaano ka katamis

Kahit ganda lang ng mata mo

Kung mailalagay ko

Sa salita, sa notebook, sa ipad

O sa palad

Hindi pa rin sapat.

At wala pa ring maniniwala

Sinong maniniwala?

Sinong maghihinala?

Sa tula sa dulo ng aking dila

Na wala kang kasingganda

Ikaw lang, ikaw na

At ang dalawang gabi ng iyong mga mata

Sasabihin nilang kalokohan

Sasabihin nilang nalipasan

lang ng gutom

O nasobrahan ng inom.

Isang imahenasyong

pumapalag at nagwawala

sa pagitan ng iyong hita

sa gitna ng isang tula

sa dulo ng aking dila.

(Prompted Curious Compulsions by yours truly)

Paano naman ang hindi puwedeng uminom

at hindi puwedeng magutom?

Ang bagsik ng lagnat ng pusong ito’y saan hinuhugot,

Saan hahantong?

(Immediate Answer by cool person mentioned above)

Kung hindi pwedeng uminom

At hindi pwedeng magutom

Ang bagsik ng lagnat ng puso

ay huhugutin ng bilog na buwan

at hahantung sa likas

na pagtakas

ng bait.

At palalayain ka ng pagkahumaling

sa kahon ng iyong katinuan.

Sasabihin nila, kabaliwan

Pero hindi ka maniniwala

Dahil nagmamahal ka lang

Ng tama.

(And another)

Di ba ang tama ay bunga rin ng pagka-untog,

Ng mga humahalik sa sahig kapag nahuhulog?

Ng mga hindi nag-iingat at bigla-biglang napapatid,

Sa mga naliligaw sa paghahanap ng langit?

Tama din ba ang makukuha sa pikit-matang pagtalon?

Katumbas yata ito ng hilong dulot ng urong-sulong.

Ah, ang may sakit nga nama’y kung anu-ano ang sinasambit.

Ang lagnat na ito sa panlasa’y nag-iiwan lang ng pait.

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365 for 2012: (Nineteen) And?

Send me another

witty remark. Don’t forget

to sign: ampersand.

http://keepinginmind.tumblr.com/post/6273509062/for-my-kitty-ampersand

*Sweet sixteen, indeed. One of those things that only matter to me, I guess. Harharhar.

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365 for 2012: (Eighteen) Haikunnouncement

The poster is out.

Turn the calendar pages.

The love month is here.

———————————

**Yep, from the calendar series .  This is actually the original:

The poster is out.
Turn the calendar pages.
Valentines is here.

But because this was prompted by the sonnets concert project which actually opens after Valentines, I edited it. Para lang hindi tali sa katorse. And anyway, it’s the 15th of 365, not 14th. Blech.

So, yeah, it’s sort of a plug. With anticipation. And dread.

Lahat na lang ng puwedeng tulain itutula. Tsk.

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365 for 2012: (Seventeen) Thee Na Natukso

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Di ko alam kung tutula o tutulala

So I, for fear of trust, forget to say

Kung putî man ang puto, suso niya’y kutsintâ;

Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust;

Sakdal-lahat ng alindog ng mundo’y kawangis mo

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st

May lambot ng mamon ang puso mong sintibay ng bato

And so the General of hot desire

Dilang buhul-buhol bumubulong na lang sa hangin

Admit impediments. Love is not love

parang mga guhit sa dalampasigang binubura ng tubig

Fair, kind, and true, is all my argument,

Ano’ng silbi mo sa akin?

Millions of strange shadows on you tend

Kalaro kong aninag na di magbalik?

(Beat. Voices switch.)

 

Irog ko, paano na ngayon ito?

Love’s not . Time’s fool.

Istupido yata itong si Cupido.

————————–

**Yes, these are not my own words. (Yes, not?).  As a teaser for a project we’re doing right now, I was tasked to mash-up lines from Shakespeare’s sonnets and its translations. Meaning I had to read and re-read  (14 x 14  = –> ) 196 lines in Old English  as well as the corresponding translations and/or adaptations (196 ++) and find a way to make sense out of alternating select 14 or so lines from both original and translated sets. Apparently, I couldn’t keep it to the minimum.

Does it make any sense, then? And since it qualifies as a poetic exercise (excuses, excuses) I’m going to count it in the 365 for 2012 project. So there. And no, I’m not ranting. Hah.


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365 for 2012: (Sixteen) Starry, Starry Scarf

A patch of heaven,

this stellar fabric offers

galactic comforts.

*A note I tucked in a scarf I gave to a friend on her twenty-fourth year on earth. Because we got some serious sh** to shake. 

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365 for 2012: (Fifteen) After New Year

The alarm goes off.

Turn the calendar pages,

February’s here.

**Actually came up with another Haiku for January. Thinking of creating a series of twelve.

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365 for 2012: (Fourteen) Salin ng Sonnet 105 ni Shakespeare

**Salin ng Sonnet 105 ni William Shakespare, ang pangalawang sonetong kailangan kong isalin para sa darating na concert sa buwan ng Pebrero. Tinapos habang nagpapahinga sa lilim ng mga puno ng buko sa baybayin ng Guimaras. Walang katumbas ang puting buhangin at hampas ng alon para sa pressured na makata. Hahaha. The life indeed, the life.

 

Pagsinta ko’y di basta-bastang pagsamba

Dahil ang iniibig ko’y hindi diyus-diyosan

At lahat ng awit at pagpupugay ko ay takda

Sa kanya, nag-iisa, siya nawa, natatangi lang.

 

Mabut sa bukang-liwayway, hanggang takip-silim mabait

Sa kahanga-hangang dangal, walang tinag na nananatili

Kung kaya’t salita ko’y tapat ring nakapinid

Ito’t ito lang, walang pagliliwaliw mga katagang sinasambit

 

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo, ang lahat ng aking katwiran

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo, sa ibang salita ma’y nailalarawan

Ito ang layaw ng dila kong makata

Sa lawak ng saklaw ng balirala’y pag-isahin itong tatlong katangian

 

Marikit, mabuti’t totoo, kadalasa’y hiwa-hiwalay

Itong lahat ngayo’y magkakasama sa’yong kabuua’y nananalaytay.

 

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365 for 2012: Thirteen

Soap suds on the floor

Will wash away these worries.

Therapeutic chore.

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365 for 2012: (Twelve) Tinuhog ng Espada

**After a pseudo-faithful translation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 20, here now is the version that should hopefully serve as lyrics to a song. And yes, pun intended. Lame pun at that. With syllable count that needs improvement. Sheesh 😛

Kinis ng mukha mo’y pang-billboard ng Belo,
di na kailangan ng Master Eskinol yan
Bagong gising na puwede nang frontpage ng magasin
Mga dilag sa iyo’y di lang hahanga, ikaw pa’y kaiinggitan
 
Puso mong mamon, iisang suki lang ang nakakatikim
Di gaya ng iba diyang kung kani-kanino naghahain
Talbog silang lahat sa talim ng titig mo
Duguin na’ng madaplisan dahil iisa lang ang tutusuk-tusukin
 
Bossing, ikaw ang senyora ko,
Kumander na nakalalaglag-panty ang asta,
Tagos-kalamnan ang lagnat-lamig abot hanggang buto
Ang puso ko’y tinuhog ng iyong espada
 
Okay na sana kung hindi ka lang napag-tripan ng tadhana
At sa paghubog sa walang-paris mong katawan ay ‘di nasobrahan
Tingnan mo nga’t mas may tambok ka pa sa akin
Anong silbi niyan sa’kin, e meron na ako niyan?
 
Bossing, ikaw sana ang senyora ko,
Kung di ka lang itinakda para sa ibang senyora
Tagos-kalamnan ang lagnat-lamig abot hanggang buto
Ang puso ko’y winarak ng iyong espada
 
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365 for 2012: (Eleven) Salin ng Sonnet 20 ni Shakespeare

**This is my translation of Shakespeare’s Sonnet 20. Did this for a sonnets concert project we’re doing for February. This already sort of fails the traditional sonnet form, but oh well. 😛 Linguistic discrepancies. The more lyrics-for-song version follows after. You are such a challenge Bill.  

Sonnet 20
Mukha ng dilag sa’yo ay ipinintang likas
Ikaw na mayordomang kumander ng natitira ko pang lakas
May lambot ng mamon ang puso mong sintibay ng bato
Panay lambing ang pag-ibig na walang bahid ng pagkatuso
Talbog ang titig nila sa mga mata mong walang ligaw na sulyap
Nababasbasan sana kung hindi pinapangarap ang iyong pagkurap
Ang tikas mo’t dating, kumporme’t nakapanunukso
May suwabe kang hatak sa kaiba’t kapareho.
Nilikha kang babae sana, pero sa pagpeperpekto ay lumabis
Sa iyo ay may naikabit na sobra na nagdudulot sakin ng pagtangis
Ang kasaganaang bigay sa iyo’y para sa aki’y walang saysay
Ano’ng silbi mo sa akin, kung dapat akong umibig sa isang Inday?
Anu’t-anupaman, nilikha kang aginaldo para sa mga dilag
Kanila na’ng katawan mo, maliban sa puso mo’ng sa akin sana ipanatag.
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365 for 2012: (Ten)

Uncontrollable

patterns of fall. Lives at risk.

How constant hearts beat.That's Audrey Kawasaki For You

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365 for 2012: (Nine) Quarter-Life Crisis

Domestication.

The dawning of a new age,

of growing up pains.

**Finally, one that came with a title with it.

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365 for 2012: Six, Seven, Eight

I.

A morning crime scene:

A blooming red mark right there

From the culprit’s lips.

II.

Another crime scene:

Rouge marks on a shirt’s collar,

A ring down the sink.

III.

No more evidence

Door’s ajar, wine glass empty.

Our case unresolved.

**I got a little fixated with the idea of a crime scene . Here’s a different take that churned out another series. I like doing this series of threes. Feels like a comic strip in verse.

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365 for 2012: Five

A morning crime scene:

When an escaping dream leaves

pillows stained with ink.

**Aren’t there so many possibilities in changing the word ‘ink’? Imagine your own murder, then take your pick.

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365 for 2012: Two, Three, Four

I.

Hair strands on pillows,

Traces, thoughts falling away

To count and pick up.

II.

Hair strands on pillows,

Traces of thoughts fallen out.

Don’t count, don’t pick up.

III.

Hair strands and pillows.

Traces of us. We’ve fallen.

Count on being caught

**This is the product of the magic of repositioning words to find the most apt manifestation of the image in the head. Thank god for details that strike you upon waking up. Although I am still quite uncertain about the order of the three, I’ll leave it be for now and go for the gut feel. The time will come to edit it accordingly.

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365 for 2012: One

Good book, new hobby, checklist:

Petty distractions

For a life empty of one.

**First attempt, please forgive. This Haiku is actually erratic. Instead of 5-7-5, I was thinking 7-5-7 thus the count. But anyway, that’s that for now.

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Charles Bukowski’s Blue Bird

Animation by Monika Umba

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jsc3ItAKSLc

Bluebird
Charles Bukowski

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say, stay in there, I’m not going
to let anybody see
you.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I pur whiskey on him and inhale
cigarette smoke
and the whores and the bartenders
and the grocery clerks
never know that
he’s
in there.

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too tough for him,
I say,
stay down, do you want to mess
me up?
you want to screw up the
works?
you want to blow my book sales in
Europe?

there’s a bluebird in my heart that
wants to get out
but I’m too clever, I only let him out
at night sometimes
when everybody’s asleep.
I say, I know that you’re there,
so don’t be
sad.
then I put him back,
but he’s singing a little
in there, I haven’t quite let him
die
and we sleep together like
that
with our
secret pact
and it’s nice enough to
make a man
weep, but I don’t
weep, do
you?

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