Harbinger

muddled thoughts
of you
rarely pass up;
they always make me
think,
ponder and blink
all over the place.

you must have known
the upshot you have
on me. helpless
and spellbound on
the idea of you and i.
the constant pitter-patter
of my aching chest.

a bit of me falls
every dull day away;
faceless, i blend into
the crowd of aficionados.
you remain unaware
of the tears that glide down
my cheeks.

or the ones on yours.

-october 14, 2002-
-12:05 PM-
-PC-

Paradise

for You. you know who you are.

let me pretend
to be yours for the moment.
to be the star you look at
during sleepless summer nights,
be the crisp morning air
you breathe in, that fills you
with life,
to be the song in your head
you can't evade,
to be someone--
you crave for and cherish.
let me make-believe,

-september 6, 2002-
-3:48 PM-
-KFC Coastal-

Blurred

rants.

gasoline rainbows
on the wet asphalt,
beautifully untouched,
resembling the
friendly raindrops
of this morning's shower.
i envy you...
for you deny me
the feeling of
being silent in one corner--
my head in my hands
but no tears.
too numb to cry now.
wishing i were of rainbows,
and you
my raindrop.

-august 23, 2002-
-12:25 PM-
-pizza hut, taft avenue-

Exam Something

Today

Nothing feels right

To the not-so-righteous.

She feigns joyfulness to strangers

To stop them from looking past the face.

Tumultuous emotions. The world is one big maze.

She suddenly screams and gets the urge to throw something

Then she smiles at the thought of sunlight on fields.

Not everything’s that better—but She figured,

What the heck.

Tomorrow’s a new day.

-date unknown... august 2002-
-Miko's house-

Wanna eat lunch?

from here, i can see the back of your neck
how every hair moves as you nod
how your eyelashes sweep the air which smells of you
how your foot taps to the rhythm of a song playing in your mind
from here, i notice everything there is
but not once did you turn to face me
don't worry, all's fine
i'm content being behind you all the time
when you look back, all you'll see is me
ready to smile in case you wonder why
i am still here.

-july 25, 2002-
-10:30 AM-
-g211, distru time s11-

An uncommon scene

downtown parade
people cheering people on
confetti thrown unto the semi-rained on street
bald old man in a small apartment singing Perry Como on top of his lungs
dancing with the make-believe woman of his dreams.

the band kicks in
the trombones and the cymbals and the rest of them players
the baton twirlers in their shimmering, white skirts
smiling at strangers like there was no tomorrow
thinking of the men who left them behind for others.

parade goes on and on
halts in front of a massive stage of lights
what do you know, on it was Her
getting ready for the performance to top all performances
wow, what a time to ponder about Him.

hey, the show must go on
so, let's give it up for Jam
sing us a song, dance to the Lambada
act like you're on top of the world
instead of pretending to be someone you no longer are.

-july 15, 2002-
-9:41 PM-
-PC-

Hanging on

the scent of boredom
is too thick to ignore--
the sweat and its source become one.
no matter how cold the water
you splash on your face to keep
from falling into slumber,
your lashes slowly flutter...
making it impossible for me
to escape the depths
of your eyes.

-June 17, 2002-
-10:32 am-
-g207-

Which one's real?

Surely, you wouldn't remember a thing--
for it's something not shared.
All happened so quickly, yet vividly.
I was sure it happened, and you knew it did.
We walked barefoot on the wide expanse of sand,
just when the sun was about to bid its farewell on
its worshippers.
The Pacific breeze sang us a lullaby in falsetto.
I was freaking out, for I had no one
to go home with.
You took my hand and gave it a soft pump, and
whispered, "You're going to heaven with me."--so lovingly,
it gave me goosebumps.
You noticed and draped your shirt which smelled of
the ocean on my back, killed me with your
smile all in the same time.
We stayed there till it was the stars' turn to put
on a radiant show.
We named a constellation after me. A planet after you.
We laughed gleefully at the idea of being the
only two people on Earth,
where we would be treated masters, even by
the smallest of ants.
You danced with me to the tune of the waves
crashing on the jagged rocks.
I looked up, and saw the powerful moon beam
play around in your eyes, as if you
were blessed with its perfect feature.
I put my ear against your chest and I heard
the "boom-boom-baroom" it was saying, only to me.
When we stopped, you pulled me down to sit on
the shore, with the water lapping at our feet.
Nobody said anything anymore--
We didn't need to. We knew. We always have.
We knew our way home.
I fell asleep on your shoulder.
When I did, I dreamed that
you, didn't remember a thing.
You weren't even sure that it happened.
Then I realized--
maybe because it's something not shared.
I never woke up.

-may 7, 2002-
-8:55 AM-
-goks lobby, DLSU-

Some Kind of Mania

truth unspoken
offense-- none
taken
silent as a lamb

waiting, even for
a slight echo
to be certain
you comprehend

passive, forlorn
eyes-- not a
tear, nor its stain--
in sight

truth unspoken
not at day--
nor even
at night

-may 5, 2002-
-4:10 PM-
-Mt. Banahaw-

Gone ahead?

hey, look--
colored my fingernails
with a purple
crayon. it's weird,
uneven, but creative.
it's like i'm
always freezing
cold. like i need
my hands held.
like i had gone
mental and pounded
on them with a
hammer. sort
of like nail polish,
but not dark.
tomorrow, it'll fade.
it'll be gone. i
would've rinsed
my fingers well
by then.
tomorrow...
i think i'll try green.

-april 29, 2002-
-9:55 PM-
-living room-

Hallucinations

you, a champion
unicycle rider--
with your silly grin
pasted forever on
your fair-skinned face,
are nothing but
a memory.
your sense of
balance, a mere
idea from the
back of my mind.
your courageous efforts
to make the world
laugh--
just hopeless dreams.
your hair smells like
sandalwood, shining,
golden locks straight
out from a fairy tale.
my hands long for it
like a lover would
for a passionate kiss.
you, my chavatah--
a vision.
a dream.
a memory.

-april 28, 2002-
-10:50 PM-
-living room-

****? ick.

everything seems fine now.
gradually, you don't exist.
you DON'T.
but, it's certainly not enough
to stop pillows
from being tear-soaked at nights
it's not enough
to make me forget
the lies, the egg-ons--
that infatuated look in your eyes.
love is never an interesting
center of poetry.
it cramps up my style!
so, better you don't exist.
you DON'T. i guess...

-april 24, 2002-
-9:00 AM-
-g205, DLSU-

Nonsense

even i--
a silly old string
hanging from your
favorite shirt,
wonder why this
is a big deal...
you wear me like
a fashion trend.
as if very soon,
people will start wearing
strings from their shirts.
but hey, don't think
you can't pull me away.

-april 14, 2002-
-8:11 AM-
-pc-

Stopping in the Middle of the Sahara

for Him who went Away

Looking into a mirror, I see
A face so unknown...
It stares back at me
With his eyes so full of
Confused, red lines
Each blink as if slow-moed
By tme.
A stranger who looked a little
Bit like me, but still unknown.
I had a clear picture of what I wanted.
Now, I can't even stand
Staring into a mirror
Because I know not
What I see.
I still wonder if it's me.

-March 27, 2002-
-7:26 AM-
-McDonalds Taft-
-from a piece of yellow paper-

Creative Juice

for Miko

How does it feel to be the dirt underneath your nail?
I know you can't kick the habit of
Chomping on them, tugging on the cuticle sticking out.
I'm right where I want to be, in your mouth,
Swimming with the rest of the ingredients that make you YOU.
You never stop till there's nothing left to chew.
The ragged ends of your fingertips bring smiles.
I'm gone, in you, never again coming out.
But then again, nails do grow back.
So will I.

-March 5, 2002-
-10:40 AM-
-Java Café, DLSU-

Jesus, is it morning already?

for Gelo

He's in your mind.
Ridiculing your useless thoughts,
Picking on your average-sized brain.
He's right there with a passive grin,
The fellow whom Memory jumped over.

Small talk is bliss.
Ducks and penguins floating about,
Over absurd heads of great minds.
He walks the dark streets of Remembering,
Without a concrete destination, without a flashlight.

Hey, fellow that time forgot,
I, too, live in the Now.
Everything's coming back to me.
It's nonsense, but at least it's real.
Take care of my confidante.

-March 5, 2002-
-10:10 AM-
-Java Café, DLSU-

The Everlasting Gobstopper

also for Miguel

You are hard.
My jaws clench trying to reach
Your core,
Cast into oblivion as I taste
Your tutti-frutti flavor.
You are colorful.
You change every forsaken second,
Trying to pinch my curiosity
Even more.
You are something.
I never expected, I never thought I wanted
For myself.
You are incredible, a creation of a
Truly "Creative Mind".
Created to make people happy and content.
You are the Everlasting Gobstopper.
You will never disappear
No matter how hard I try to
Forget your existence.
Give me eternity
So I could work my way into
Your sugarcoated heart,
Colorful and sweet.
Cast me once again into oblivion.
Give me time to recover from
The hardness I've experienced.

-March 4, 2002-
-2:53 PM-
-Chess Plaza, DLSU-

Tired Dreams

The collapsible wooden chair
Sits lonely by the ravaging sea.

Blue-green froth emancipate from within
The reef flowing with seaweed of brownish hue.

And the big, pink, hollow sea shell,
Cracked by rough stones and bleached by the sun,

Still holding the secret voice of the North Wind,
Is waiting to be heard by a weak, sensible and innocent ear.

The frustrated Ego then decides to let go.
He accompanies the collapsible wooden chair, no longer forlorn.

The Ego's tired, bloodshot eyes
Notice the blemished pink shell from afar.

He stoops down real low to pick it up.
Hesitation commands him to do not what he means to.

The Ego, armed with non-belief for the inevitable
Chucks the old, worn-out shell into the gloomy, fearsome ocean.

It sinks down to the bottom, where reality does not exist.
The voice of the North Wind muffled by loud sirens of fair beauty.

The Ego, still an Ego, walks away with a satisfied heart.
The collapsible chair sits lonely again.

-March 4, 2002- -
1:00 PM-

So what?

Dogs have it so easy--
They take a piss anywhere
And shit all over the place.

No need to keep up
It's its own master.
Abundant T-bones for dessert.

Bottom-to-bottom they connect--
They find love
Shameless to this mortal coil.

They don't take their own baths
Hordes of mutts infest the earth
Pungent stench are lilacs to them.

Dogs are dogs--
They are animals. Not alone.
Not ignorant. But so easy. Damn.

-March 4, 2002-
-9:35 AM-
-Sports Complex, DLSU-

Daddy

Daddy's a great guy
He gave me a coin-
Got it from
Behind my ear.
It was incredible. I believed.
It gave me a thrill.

Daddy's a cool guy
He gave me a shot-
Got it from
A man named Cuervo.
It was surreal. I shouldn't believe.
It gave me a migraine.

Daddy's a peculiar guy
He gave me a kiss-
Got it from
The girl next door.
It was weird. I couldn't believe.
It gave me a clue.

Daddy's a smart guy
He gave me a puzzle-
Got it from an orange gorilla.
It was complicated. I didn't believe.
It gave me confusion.

Daddy's a tough guy
He gave me a shotgun-
Got it from
A Colombian drug lord.
It was scary. I didn't know...
It gave me no answer.

Daddy's changed.
I didn't know...
Maybe I should've
I could've
Believed him-
IN him.
Now he's in a corner
Lying on his bed
Of packs of cocaine
Not knowing
Where he got it from.

I found a pair of Daddy's pants
In its pocket,
Was a picture of
His beloved daughter...
All tattered and torn.
Folded with age,
Moldy caused by sweaty hands.
I didn't know
Where he had gotten it.

My Daddy was a great guy
He used to give me a coin-
He had gotten it from
Behind my ear.
It was incredible. I believed.
It gave me a thrill.
I now believe.

-February 26, 2002-
-3:40 PM-
-G202, DLSU-

Melancholic Fantasies

Let me fall.
Don't push me away
Or make believe
I don't
Exist;
It hurts--
I feel scorn.
I don't hate you!
But, no--
I won't
Force you to
Love me like you do...
That's not fair
Nothing's right anymore--
We often wonder
Why we're lifelong friends
Where are we headed?
What's the story?
I am history--
You are patience.
The clasp is undone.
The gems have faded.
The winds have howled
Their last breath,
But I'm here--
And so are you.

-February 8, 2002-
-11:30 PM-
-g201, DLSU-