Naplano ko na. Ang problema ko lang: hindi ako maka-tiempo.

Minsan kasi, may ginagawa kang importante.
Minsan din, hindi kita mahanap.

Bakit nga ba?

Naalala ko rati na ang daming beses na sana'y nagawa ko siya. Pero hindi ko alam kung ba't di ko siya nagawa. Siguro dahil gusto kong perpekto ang pagkagawa ko sa kanya.

Pasyensya ka na sa mga pagkakamali ko.
Pasyensya na rin kung naghihintay ka (saka-sakaling nag-aantay ka).
Pasyensya ka na kung di mo mapansin ang effort ko. Gagawan ko siya ng paraan...
Pasyensya na rin kung minsan ay nag-promise akog mag-tag, pero di ko naman ginawa.
Pasyensya na rin na pinag-papasensya kita.

Salamat nga pala at binabasa mo pa to.

Basta h'wag mo lang akong kakalimutan...

Kailan ko nga ba ito magagawa?

Kailan pa?

nabasa mo pala...


































































.

ang stupid stupid ko nga. inaamin ko na ako iyon. utang na loob. patawarin mo na ako. naguiguilty tuloy ako. pero hindi ko napigilan ang sarili ko. seryoso ako dun sa tnxt ko. kung pwede lang sana na mabalik yon eh, papalitan ko talaga yung ginawa ko. hindi ko na alam kung ilang mali pa ang magagawa ko.

ginusto kong sabihin iyon personally. pero nga, nahihiya talaga ako. siguro nga bata pa ako. kulang talaga ako sa experience. hindi ko naman masisi yung sarili ko dun sa ginawa ko. weird kasi ang feeling na nararamdaman. meron talagang nag-urge sakin na gawin yun. sorry talaga.

ang mga cellphones ngaun ay tila wala ng silbi sakin. oo nga naman, may point ka. hindi mo nga talaga malalaman kung totoo ang sinasabi ng isang tao sa pamamagitan ng text. pati rin sa tawag. malay mo, may abilidad yung kausap mong ibahin ang voice nya diba? di mo kasi makita eh. pero ganun din eh. kapag nakita mo sya. hindi ka sigurado kung totoo nga ang sinasabi ng tao. pwede rin naman siyang magsinungaling.

pero ang masasabi ko lang hindi ako nagsinungaling dun sa sinabi ko. hindi ko man mapoprove yun ng mga theorems, postulates, o written documents, maaaring maprove ko yon sa pamamagitan ng actions.

malay ko bang ikaw lang ang pwedeng magpost sa blog mo. pwede rin namang ibang tao, diba? pwede rin naman na may ibang taong nakakaalam ng password mo sa blog. pero alam kung ikaw yun. mararamdaman ko kasi kung ibang tao eh.

sorry talaga kung nasaktan ka. kung tutuusi'y ayoko rin namang ipakita ang personal na mga messages sa text. gusto ko rin naman yung actual na sinasabi. pero namiss nga kita talaga noon. hindi talaga ako nabore non. pero namiss lang talaga kita. ganun na ba kabagal ang oras at namiss kita three hours after tayo last nagkita? pasensya ka na, pero mahal lang talaga kita. at hindi to bola.

in richness and in wealth

coldly enslaved by a master of doom
keeping more and more until there's no room
memorized figures of political faces
invisibly dirty palms with messy ridges

clothed in grease with patches of shame
stealing an identity--no fortune, just fame
fame in newspapers, for the vilest of crimes
from poverty, for food; starving almost oftentimes

a cause of grime and a tempting disgrace
of all of the vices: of jack, queen, king, ace
distastefully green and an addictive connection
an epidemic, maybe, of a winner's infection

just the flick of an eye or the snap of the hand
a clairvoyant starts serving the lord of the land
for it's all in the cash to compensate the bill
for so cynical a service; just to live--will kill

the cause of a strong, yellow gravity
is all pride, all shine; all these are not witty
the typical world will be against wealth
with personified greed, of no use: your stealth

suffocated by the enema of disguised evil
verdant infatuation; no glutton ever sufficed
just coldly enslaved by a master of doom
just keeping more and more until there's no room

A Speck Of Glitter Upon A Canvas Of Black

amidst the darkness and vanity
through the blackhole of despair
lies the vicious vortex of insanity
and the circle of life—truly unfair
chewy grapevines of timeless falsities
wreak havoc amongst countless societies

destined to mingle with personal animosity
among inanimate beings of lifeless stupor
none to comfort you or to satiate curiosity
trapped in silence with only an intimate core

eyes palely blind, loosely sensible
untruthful figures with vague shapes perceived
options so many and decisions are variable
gulled with possessions you never believed

of so ugly a countenance, as always ill-treated
for what is physique, when mean internally
coated by violence, gladly unsheathed
classified by echelon and spit upon doubtlessly

reverberating voices on murder of dignity
no respect whatsoever on reputation and life
of sweat, tears, blood, but none of pity
less love, more hatred, no contentment, full of strife

amidst the darkness and vanity
through the blackhole of despair
lies the vicious vortex of insanity
and the circle of life—truly unfair
light so narrow yet emphasized so bright
reach and grasp that hope and grip it so tight

Birth of the Brightest Nightsky

Half-informed of lessons still
Yet fresh and pure in mindfulness
For the sleight of hands could do some work
Uncertain of options; of which is less

Stuck with the blues in the great abyss
All a-waiting for the barrier to break
While a-waiting, the sound of silence—
Whispering voices from the chasms shake
Opinionated, they may seem to be
But listen well and follow your heart
Of what is right, and what you see
With steadfast decisions, we’ll be stalwart

Make a decree and be all-glorious
For not of evil should you be sealed
Rightful guardians that help you choose
From them, the right path revealed

Traverse that path and look around you
And just look; don’t go away
Direct your thoughts and emotions, too
To make your mark with your own way
Above the stars and into the light
But never forget to look behind
Of what you left in dark and night
Doubtlessly sure of a made-up mind

Half-informed of lessons still
Yet fresh and pure in mindfulness
For vibrant spirits must never kill
Of true success and a fiasco’s mess

On Wings of Fire

Trailing smoke above my back
A soul with the spunk the people attack
Passion, grace, love and desire
The mystical powers of The Fire

Half-black heart, but pumping still
One wrong move, and die, it will
Soot-stained and driven through by lava
Burned it might be, but useful for ever—

Chained within, while beating fast
Encased within a spirit that’ll last
Body ablaze, with feathers of vermillion
Certain that it has an age of a zillion

Eyes of gold, with an iris of red
It rarely is seen, yet light is shed

A tongue of fire, and a beak so gold
Multilingual; universally leaving marks not cold

Beneath a stone flew the phoenix
Hesitance, strength, emotions mixed
Water is nothing against its claws
Smoke on water is not a loss

Directing itself upward
The bird moves on guard
Sharp-tip feathers of fire
Secreting just a signal of ire

Torch-like head, an orange crown
Neither showing a smile nor a frown
From magma to lava, shooting breaths of fire
Even Curiosity would dare not inquire

Tail-feathers, luminescent and bright
Even Ardor portrayed some fright

But as the heart turns very dark
The incessant breeze would not be a lark
For ash it’ll be, and inevitably dead
Rebirth, revelation, apocalypse wed

Rebirth, recovery, standing up after falling
Burning leaves of autumn should always be back on top glowing

The Order of Multiples of Three

All a-singe, hearts like fire
Pierced by arrows of intense desire
Blood dancing inside my fingertips,
My abstruse emotions, it incessantly rips.

Caged by doll-like body and medieval armor
Escaping with desire and ardor
Spirits within are floating outwards
Leaping, meeting—leopards.

Badly wounded and bruised
The marks of kisses when love, we cruised
Greatly intrigued, and our spirits freed
Disappearance and division, we need indeed.

Oh, how sad; how bad my shivering, frozen voice
Steadfastly pond’ring a perfect choice
Like poles we repel, although I try
Now desolate, I cry.

All a-singe, hearts like fire
Pierced by arrows of intense desire
Blood dancing inside my fingertips,
My abstruse emotions, it incessantly rips.

Desolate, down I faced
My thoughts spinning around
All of a sudden I saw how she gazed
Blinded, I was—where was she bound?

Along the dark corner, I quietly pout
Directing my thoughts a long way out
With steadfast decree, a ball of green
Carpeted by a color as black as seen

How could this happen to me?
Frigid and frozen, sub-zero degree
Our eyes locked up as chainsaw can’t break
A tear fell down as light as snowflake

We were both paralyzed
The cat and me
The twisted fate sacrificed
Immobile, shaking and not so free

A sudden change of atmosphere came
She looked at me as if I had fame
But after which I moved my head
I shut one eye, I found her dead

Desolate, down I faced
My thoughts spinning around
All of a sudden I saw how she gazed
Blinded, I was—where was she bound?