Tag Archives: poem



Pilit na winawalis

ang alikabok ng iyong alaala.

Mula sa itaas ng lamesa

hanggang sa ilalim ng sofa.

Pilit na tinatago,



palabas ng pintuan.

Ngunit nang

akala mong

malinis na,

pagtingin mong muli



at bumabalik pa rin.

Found my old journal and saw this poem I wrote a few years ago (January 29, 2011).


An attempt at a metaphor


I wonder what becomes of the tree after it is cut down. Will the bird—the bird that used to perch on its branches, nesting itself under the shade of its leaves—remember it? Will it notice that that certain tree is no longer found in that spot? Something’s missing. Or will it move on to a different tree because, let’s face it, it just needs some place to rest. Maybe, they’re all the same.


By the Time the Sun Rises

Based on Rimbaud’s After the Flood

By the time the sun rises,
Fragments of ember appear in the skies
As the building’s lights turn off one by one,
With birds chirping, singing their songs,
In anticipation of the new day.


How great it is to feel the cold wind
Brush through your skin, enveloping you
In an illusion of sleep, its spell broken
By the sound of alarm clocks, pulsating
In its loudness, leaving you with a yawn,
A squint in the eye, as you stretch your body
Into acceptance.


Out in the streets,
A streetcleaner sweeps the roadside,
Free from remnants of yesterday,
As dogs look on with their sleepy eyes,
Wondering if they can have more food today
Than before.


The old lady sets up her store,
Replacing jars with candies for the kids,
And shooing away men asleep on the benches
Falling in deep slumber after last night’s drunken revelries.


A man is selling bread,
Its sweet scent filling the air,
While wives kiss their husbands good-bye,
Sending them to work,
And so begins their faithful wait.


Bright, warm, reality in motion—you remind us
Of our constant battle, the changing of days
As we go closer and closer to the unknown.
But you’re always welcome.

(c) Recital: Act I


Nothing tastes as sweet as your first.

With the silver moon as your witness,
Its light casting shadows, forming silhouettes
Of bodies that glisten, stripped down to its naked glory,

Love is a world waiting to be discovered
as you move towards each other
with bated breaths,
hesitant steps,
fingers slowly intertwined.

Little by little,
you become the other,
and the other
becomes you.

No prodigy can paint this masterpiece
even with kisses—soft, gentle kisses—
that trace your every outline,
every curve and every corner of your body,
your temple,
trying to memorize the beauty that is you,
but in vain.

You begin to transform into dancers,
moving in perfect rhythm,
full of grace immersed in this dance,
to the music of your beating hearts.

With every push and pull,
the arching of your back,
you move in accelerando,
going deeper and deeper
into the house of Desire,
passion burning in your eyes,
as you learn its ways and shed skin
marked with remnants of the past.

Your fingers curl, driving into the skin,
before you cry out in ecstasy,
both silent and loud,
of pain and pleasure,
waking villages,

After the music stops,
its curtains are raised,
doors are opened,
and no same person emerges from it.


I made this poem for our Poetry Seminar class. It’s supposed to be an Erotic poem. What do you think about it? Was it effective as an erotic poem? Objective criticisms are very much welcome.

Poem for Nanay


I saw this after a long time (1st Published on 05-22-08). I made this after my cousin asked us to write something for Nanay when she died. This was read during the intern we had for her.

Lola, grandma, impo – many words you can call your parent’s mother but to us, she is simply Nanay.

Loving wife, sister and a mother –

Those words are not enough to describe how great & wonderful Nanay is.

Although death has taken her away physically,

We all know that her spirit still lives on.

We hope that through her legacy,

She will be remembered until the of time.

Pancit, homba, torta & sabaw na isda –

Those are just a few inside Nanay’s cookbook.

Made with a loving heart & motherly care,

Their taste is as sweet & delicious as her love for us.

No day or night is too early or too late

For she never fails to clean the house & keep it in tip – top shape.

She showers us with love & care

That no other can give.

It seemed like yesterday

When we spent Christmas together,

Sharing laughter & joys,

Not knowing it was to be the last.

Now that it’s time to say goodbye,

Don’t you worry and cry.

For we all know that she’s happy wherever she is,

Along with our Heavenly Father & Tita Penny.

Sorry for the times we made you cry.

Please know that it was done unintentionally.

Sorry for the times we fail to show you how important you are to us.

Please know that you are loved dearly.

Someday, I Will


Break down these walls

For you.

If that doesn’t work,

I’ll give you the keys

And open the door to let you in.

When that happens,

I will welcome you in a warm

Embrace, the sun shining on our faces

While the birds sing their songs,

Waiting since forever to do

That performance.


We will have bike rides at the park,

But you will have to teach me first.

I will give you my trust

That you won’t ever let me fall.


We will watch movies together,

Laugh at all the silly scenes and

Drink our sodas as loud as we can,

Becoming nervous and shy,

As the lovers confess their love

For each other.


You will take care of me whenever

I’m sick, bringing me breakfast in bed.

You will sing me songs, even if

Your voice doesn’t seem to recognize Tone

But hearing the warmth,

And sincerity in it would then make it

The best sound I’ve ever heard, along with

Those times when you say my name.

And when you laugh.


We will watch the sunset together

And as we revel at how marvelous

The orange sky is, we will wonder

How we found each other and how

We plan to be together.


But until someone would come

To scale these walls or go find the key,

Like a needle in the haystack, I will stay

In my safe place, wondering what

Or who Love is, the one people

Write about. I will be here, unscathed

But not perfectly whole.

On the Event of My Death


On the event of my death,
I do not want you to mourn for me.
You can shed a few tears
but don’t overdo it.
Your eyes are meant for seeing,
not for where lonely tears
make their exit.

Although some may insist
on either black or white,
please wear something blue or red.
These are my favorite colors.
Besides, the mood is already gloomy.
It is just right to add some color to the occasion.

By all means, you can laugh all you want.
I would not take it as an offense.
Aside from the songs in my playlist,
one of my favorite sounds
is a person’s laughter,
Sobs & cries, the opposite.

You can apply some make-up on me
And dress me up if you want.
Just make sure that I don’t look
that fat.
I’m too much of a self-conscious person
so it’s somehow important for me
to look good.
I’d like to leave a good impression,
you see.

When you are about to lower
my casket to the ground,
release tons of balloons along with
the heaviness in your heart.

Dying is a part of life,
of God’s master plan.
I am just going on a trip.
Only, I think it would still take
a long time until we can see
each other again.

Until then, I shall watch over you,
in my seat made of clouds (remember
we used to gaze at them when we were kids?)
eagerly waiting for when
we could meet up again,
have coffee with the angels (and maybe God)
and talk like this was just
another Sunday afternoon.