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-