last twilight

i shall not paint you
the sky tonight
wont be draped
with glistening stars
and soft clouds
nor warm moonlight

i would like you to feel
beyond the warmth
wantonly spent
on flirtatious tides
squandered over
fleeting sunlights

i'll let you stare
at the void i have been
lost, let the cold
burning breeze
touch your heart
then
maybe, you'll shiver
and quiver
like a child

and you'll cry, in pain
in confusion, and fear
you'll remember
the star that died
in your arms

i wont be too far away
nursing my calloused dreams
come, as i watch
my last twilight fade
sit by my side

about you and a poet, once

you were never a poet
yet somewhere
you heard my cries
amidst the rubbles
that lured
broken wings i had
buried, alas!

you never had words
not a rhyme of comfort
not even a melody
but you hum and you hum
with softness that melts
frozen remembrances
of dreams, of hope
of life

i was
once a poet of enslaved words
of a world, for an act
i had roles to play
i had me, and i
tried to figure who
i was and was not
i have failed
or maybe
i succeeded

will you stay?
i promise i'll be quick
rising from the rubbles
waking from my dreams
i shall write my last,
will curtsy at the stage
and run
fast..so fast, i'll leave
my shadow lost
to be with you
to embrace your gift
of silence

let me be, tonight..

i shall try to be brave tonight and speak
of words piercing thru my heart
and thoughts that mercilessly pound in my head
screaming for a way out, both
begging to be heard

let me talk about pain, and cuts and bruises
as the clouds have tired of dancing for my words
let the wounds shed blood, to wash away the shards
of blinding lies and numbing indifference

allow me a wail, strong and sharp, but once
because i hurt! because im free to tell you, i am
as the sun i enslaved, so many of them, in my poems
the oceans i refused, refuted waves and meanings

let me show courage, tonight, and watch me
face my past with anger and lament, and then perhaps
forgiveness..after all, there shall be silence..sweet, caressing
silence, in a void where only fear stood, rules

i shall try to be brave tonight, and cry
let my pure saline tears wash a battered twilight
for the losses i have failed to keep, and the dewdrops
i allowed to dry, for the morrows i yearn to see
let me be, if only for the last...let me be, tonight

-----

i think i may have
to tell you, i cannot
be there forever
as forever
has yet to be
found,
defined with time

i have given you
yesterday
that you may remember
a past that haunts
the summer skies

i am here for you
today, while the sun
awaits
for the the clouds
to rest on the bosoms
of twilight

tomorrow
i may be gone, leaving you
only a remembrance
of my smile, resounding
dreams that never ended
that fate left
untouched

do not cry
let sadness find another
home, for us
it is not the end
i shall swim and soar
across unknowns
until i find
forever to hold
if only
for a second with you
in your arms

jaan

each drop of the drizzle

like a note

to a song yet to be

written

i watch

and hear them

one by one

trying 

to catch a few

save for the sun shine

dont let them

all be gone

dont let the clouds dry

come,

back in my arms

where you were

once, where

you belong

still

dear doctor

can you possibly help me with my eyes?

when i wake up in the morning i got a blurred sight. i fail to see clearly where i have started and how it's supposed to end. i keep seeing signs, but in language i dont understand. and the map, the map i made, for a dream im bound is all messed up now...

at day time the colors fade. i feel no difference between grey and blue, but im scorched with the glare of a dying sun. i hear them, voices, all around, but when i try to look for that one face, my eyes fail me.

and at night, just before i close my eyes, a pool of water wells, making my them heavy and my spirit drained.

yes, doctor, these are the same eyes you've seen before. ones you said were young for their age. these are the same eyes that met yours... not too long ago

chronicle

someday,
i would like to find myself
in a place where yesterday
does not exist
and tomorrows do not matter

i want to live
with people with no names
and their faces plain
no fancy colors, of fame
and knowledge
only lessons learned

i want to wear
my heart out on my sleeves
without fear
that love will ransom faith
with confused meanings
and mixed up words

i want to die
while the clouds sleep
and the stars do not flicker
when the moon would be patient
to hold the gates open
till i find home, near
a place
once called heaven

when today is gone
before someday ends
find my story
at every stone hurled
my way, painstakingly
written with bleeding veins
fell and failed
the last pages burnt
as my soul rises
above whines and cries
making bright
the last
fading days

reprieve

allow me to cry
just a little
tonight, i want to taste
my saline tears
to remind me there was
a smile before
the many bitter winds

do not think me weak
when you see the tears
sometimes
the soul needs be cleansed
of jagged edges
that stale hope leaves

you shall not hear
a word of lament, not
of sad songs
i fumbled with, learning
not, of cuts and bruises that left
names and faces
to cushion the void
of vanished dreams

allow me to cry a few tears
tonight
and then let them
dry on my cheeks
to soften the withered laughters
we may never again
hear

when is goodbye good enough?

i will try to speak the words
without breaking
a line, and with a straight face
i will try
to look you in the eyes
and tell you, yes, i am sure
this is goodbye

do not mock me
with love
you have so skillfully sculpted
to fit the vessel
of homeless tears

you shall feel my veins
still throbbing
with pain and maybe a trace
of anger, or was
that sadness?

my tongue has turned numb
now, from quivering
as the furious tides lashed
mercilessly on the song
i have wanted to sing
for you

i can no longer stand
another day that will end
again
for another,
only to do the same

i shall walk the last
steps my wobbly knees will allow
away from your sunset
away
from the echoes
of the laughters that drowned
halfway thru gasps
and dead whispers

this is my last breath
i am tired...

it's time

let the faded smoke
trickle down
the parched plane
of faint dreams

let the thirsty clouds
drink from the sky's
drowning silence

let the last rolling stone
gather moss
before it recedes
with the tide

and be forgot

with the passing winds
morrows choked
of yesterday's birth
to nothingness
to end...

:(

leafing thru the past
poems, where we started
a thousand words
you never understood
feeling naked
of meaning, lost
they still long
for one last look

you are a part of them
you are them, in colors
i can never create
with a million paint
like a song left
unhummed,
they wait, for one
last chance

leafing thru the pages
i found, you leading
an end i have never written,
no! i have deleted that mark..
yet, i see
yes that's where we are headed
perhaps, even after
i write a poem,
one last time

somewhere
between the ebb and the tide
that's where you should leave me
when sedated tears join
the stillness
of a night, while silenced
wind soothes the bruises
of the battered dreams
you once touched
with the softness of an illusion
i mistook for
love

no more

watch me as i
fall, no dont
close your eyes
i have done this
a million times
before
thru small and big holes
thru fire and ice walls

watch me as i
fall, no dont try
to break it
listen instead to the thump
as my head hits
the floor
and then a whining sound
as my heart breaks free
from the chains
of a song, telling you
or maybe me
i am free!

watch me
as
i fall, then go
back on my feet, i wont
need you
no more, after
this fall

biro...

biro...

madalas kong sabihing mapagbiro ang buhay

kung minsan, nakakasugat

madalas, humupa na ang tawanan

bago ko maintindihan

akala ko, natuto na ako

nauuna pa akong tumawa, habang

nabibingi

sa alingawngaw ng hagupit

na lumalatay

sa tiwala, sa pag-asa

dumating kang may bitbit

istoryang hindi ko pa nababasa

naisip ko na nga,

baka panandaliang biro na naman ito

pero

ginusto kong makinig

siguro

gusto ko ulit matawa

siguro, pikit mata

gusto ko ulit maniwala

paalis ka na ba?

tapos na ba ang kwento mo?

pasensiya ka na

mali ako

akala ko, handa ako

kung bago ka umalis, makikita mong

umiiyak ako

huwag kang magtataka

siguro, ikaw ang kwentong

ayaw kong matapos

siguro

ikaw ang biro

na gusto kong makasama

kahit pa masakit

kahit pa...

...

i hear the rain, quietly
tapping
again, on a distant dream
with it's deceiving softness
that my heart
took for solace

it was the saline tears
that rolled down
on my blistered cheeks
the bitter grain
of hope you have tasted
on my lips
as i, quivering
spoke
in tongues you never
understood

let the moonlight cast
shadows on my door
to which you hold the key
let darkness
come, that i
may be left in peace
oh! please dont let
the rain in,
find me!

gusto kong magkwento

Sumama ako ngayong umaga sa tatay ko para kunin ang chekeng ibabayad sa mga biktima ng human rights violations noong panahon ni Marcos.

Matindi ang mga naging debate noong mga unang pinag-uusapan ang pagpa-file ng claim at pag sali sa class suit na isasampa sa pinatalsik na diktador noong circa '80.

Naniningil ka ba sa pagsisilbi mo sa bayan? May katapat bang bayad ang pagyurak na ginawa sa mga karapatang pantao? 

Ang naging argumento pabor sa pagsasampa ng kaso ay : ito ang magpapatunay na naging laganap ang paglabag at pagyurak sa karapatang pantao sa ilalim ng administrasyon ni Marcos sa loob ng 20 anyos na pagkakaupo. Hindi ito tungkol sa kabayaran. Hindi ito tungkol sa pera.

Binibiro pa namin si erpats bago kami umalis ng bahay. "magblow out ka pagkatapos ha! yayaman ka na!"

Habang naghihintay na matawag ang pangalan niya, napansin ni erpats na hawak ng isang lalaki ang ID ni Paula Romero. 

Si Nanay Paula, ang ina ni Ka Henry Romero.

Si Ka Henry, isang peryodista, journalista. Isang kasama.

Nakasama si Ka Henry ni erpats sa maagang yugto ng aktibismo, nung nagsisimula palang siya. mas bata siya kay Ka Henry pero kinilala nito ang potential niya. Kasama si Ka Henry sa mga mas nakakatandang kasama na nagpalakas ng loob ni erpats sa tuluyan at puspusang pagkilos. 

Sa detensyon noong 1976 sa Camp Vicente Lim sa Laguna na sila muling magkita. Dinatnan na nila erpats at iba pang kasama si Ka Henry sa kulungan. Ilang buwan na siyang nandun, nag-iisa, at walang nakakaalam na nandun siya.

Hindi nagtagal, nakasama si Ka Henry sa pagtakas mula sa kulungan. Kay erpats niya ibinilin ang leather bag na naglalaman ng mga gamit niya. Ipinakiusap lang niya na siguruhing maibalik ito sa kapatid niya.

Ang huling balita ay papunta si Ka Henry sa Gitnang Luzon. Yun na ang huling pagkakataon na may narinig mula at tungkol sa kanya.

Naunang tawagin ang pangalan ni nanay paula. 93 anyos na siya. Sabi ng kasamang pamangkin paminsan minsan nagpapakita siya ng palatandaang nag-uulianin na. Pero malinaw sa kanya ang dalawang bagay. Nang kinausap siya ng taga CHR - si Henry Romero ay anak niya, nawawala at hinahanap niya.

Kasama sa proseso ng pagrerelease ng cheke ang pagkuha ng litrato sa mga claimant hawak hawak ang mga cheke nila. Matapos siyang kunan, naupo ulit si Nanay Paula, at bigla nalang, umiyak. Ilang minuto lang naman. Pero sa aming mga nakakakita, parang hindi gumagalaw ang oras. Ang nakikita namin ay ang pagluha niya mula pa noong dekada 70 nang mawala si Ka Henry. 

Tahimik ang pag-iyak ni Nanay Paula. Pero nakakabingi ang sigaw ng damdamin niya. Halos napapahinuhod na umaakap sa braso ng kasamang pamangkin. Humahawak sa kamay ng ilang kasama na pumaligid sa kanya. Siguro, naisip namin, matapos ang halos 4 na dekada, ngayon lang niya naisip, ngayon lang rumehistro sa kanya, malabo na niyang makitang muli ang anak niya.

Hindi ko napigilan. Napasabay ako sa pag-iyak.

Naalala ko ang ilang gabi noong 1976 nang mahuli si erpats kung paano ako nagigising sa pagpalahaw ni mama. Kinakausap lahat ng santo na kilala niya na tulungan siyang hanapin si erpats. Maluka-luka sa pag-aalala na nakasama na si erpats ng mga taong sa listahan nalang makikita. 

Hindi pa malalim ang pag-intindi ko noon sa mga bagay. Siguro marami na ring kwento nang panahong iyon ang hindi ko na natatandaan.  Ang alam ko lang, sabay sabay kaming umiyak na buong pamilya noong pinuntahan namin si erpats sa detensyon dahil iniwanan din namin siya doon noong umuwi kami ng hapon.

Maraming pang ibang kasama ang nandun sa CHR na nag-iintay matawag ang pangalan nila. Ang ilan ay mga kakilala rin at nakasama sa pagkilos. Ang ilan naman ay mga pamilyar na mukha. Ang lahat may kanya kanyang istorya na siguradong binabalikan din nila. At hindi malayong lahat ay nag-iisip, ano ang magiging kahulugan ng pagtanggap nila ng cheke na ngayon ay hinihintay nila.

Bakas sa mukha ng mga kasama ang paglipas ng panahon. Pinaghalong pekas ng hamon ng pakikibaka, at peklat ng hirap ng buhay. Mga guhit sa mukha na hindi malayong makalimutan sa pagsulat ng kasaysayan.

Nakakatatlong EDSA na. Hindi na pinag-uusapan ang diktaturya. Marami nang di nakasubaybay kung san napunta ang koleksiyon ng sapatos sa Malacanang. Nagbiyak na, at nagkakabiyak biyak pa ang samahan ng kilusang pakikibaka. Maraming kasama ang wala na sa aktibong pagkilos. May ilang naguluhan din sa pagtawag ng mali sa dating tama, at tama sa dating mali nang dahil sa nangyaring pagkakahati hati sa kilusan. At maraming kasama ang hanggang ngayon ay hindi pa nakaka-igpaw sa hirap ng buhay.

Hindi ito tungkol sa kabayaran. Hindi ito tungkol sa pera. 

Totoong marami sa mga kasama ang makakahinga nang maluwag ng ilang buwan matapos na makuha ang kabayaran. Siguro, maraming utang ang mababayaran. Maraming obligasyon ang masasagutan. Maraming buntong hininga ang mababawas sa pag-iisip ng bukas.

Pero, hindi ito tungkol sa kabayaran. Hindi ito tungkol sa pera.

Nang kunan ng litrato si erpats, sinigaw ko, "magtaas ka ng kamao. 'pa!"

Hindi ito gatimpala. Hindi ito premyo na napanalunan sa lotto o anumang raffle draw.

Ito ay pagpapatunay na laganap at talamak ang paglabag sa karapatang pantao nang panahon ng diktaturya. Ito ang nagpapatunay na buhay, tao ang mga biktima at hindi lang mga numero ng report  at istatistika. 

Higit sa cheke, ang hinihintay ng mga kasama ay hustisya. Ang pag-tukoy sa mga may kasalanan. At higit pa sa pag-amin, ang maparusahan ang may mga kasalanan.

Hindi pa tapos ang laban. Hindi pa nakukuha ang ganap na hustisya ng mga biktima ng paglabag sa karapatang pantao. Sa katunayan, sa ilalim nang nagsalin salin nang kamao, mas dumadami pa ang nabibiktima, mas dumadami pa ang naghihintay. 

Hindi si Ka Henry ang huling journalista na dinukot at pinatay. Hindi huminto sa unang EDSA ang pagsasawalang bahala ng estado sa karapatang pantao. Hindi si erpats ang huling tatawagin sa pagrere-lease ng cheke sa CHR. Hindi pa natutuldukan ang napakaraming kwento.

Hustisya, Katarungan, Pagbabago. Ang mga kasama, dati at bago, ang masa, ang bayan..ngangarap, naghihintay na makamit ang mga ito nang totohanan.

before forever ended...

if this were the last
of fate's strokes in jest
let my laughter
resound across forever
until it becomes
the only memory
that lives
after your sunset

i know now why
the vessel had
to form crevices
why i was
wrong to think
it would break
as it held
firm and patient
waiting

perhaps it heard
a promise softly whispered
that i have failed
to hear amidst silence
in blind search
until
the sun rose, again
after the many dawns
i thought would
never leave

if this were
the last note to a song
i am to hear,
allow me to capture
this moment
frozen, still..
while my heart burns
and this
love, lives

the gift of you

pardon me if i sleep so tightly at night. you say the moon felt forlorn unwatched by us. but that same moon was where we danced when the seven stars lit the stage of dreams we had. i dont worry of the many words i missed to say or failed to hear, because every time the curtains fall, a day ends, i hear you with the softness of a voice unsung, humming a note you have yet to finish, a poem i have yet to write..

i never kept count of the 365 ways you have shown your love, but i know they were enough to keep me strong whole year round. and then a few days more, i know, the sun will keep coming, finding a place for you, of you each time...

love

even after the pages

of this chapter have been

turned, or burnt...

the scent shall linger,

as would the images of laughter...

points in our lives

where we created,

tangents...dreams

we lived for a day or two...

dancing to the hymn

of fate's musings..

that single thread that holds,

us,

together..

borrowed song...

there are moments
no poem can capture
words pale against
night sky's glitters

there are times when
the world stood
still, a witness
to an old miracle

there are wishes
we pray, in stark faith
of the past unheard
of morrows we borrow

how does a good poem end?

i have not seen them do
much as i have
tried, to capture a fragrant petal
cried of loss
in my hands, stained a page
in my book, unknown words
yearned, to be spoken forever
faded, now...

i have seen them, cradled
half remembered dreams, only
to wake from a slumber
yet to start, of longing drenched
with the stench of truths,
of  truths revealed with
promises that pierced hope,
belittled, lies

you write one with de-thorned brilliance
paving the path to morrows
where the sun doesnt burn
and waters wont drown

i have gone
halfway, perhaps, scared
of the light i see far down, as
it blinds, almost, while the music
thumps deafeningly, stifled breath
yearning freedom

would you stay? keep hold of faith
for me, to the end
show me why...tell me?
how good a poem ends
like this one
you have started
writing, now..

wistful musings

had it been another day
im sure we could
watch it end, together
as the birds settle
their nests atop the tree
where we wrote our names

had it been another night
we would have tossed stars
back and forth, basked in their
brilliance, never flicker
never, before they die
the last breath
of yours and mine

had it been another life
not these that we have, cursed
with togetherness that is bound
to end at twilight...
dreams would come, rising
above what cannot be
then we shall
be one..eternal

certain...

we both know
it's bound to end
yet
we had to start
as whispered laughters cannot
be silenced
nor hearts' yearning be
left untouched

you may have been the last
of my journeys
the stream where sunrise hid
for so long
the warmth that healed
a battered soul

when tomorrow leads

you away

to a place i shall not be

let the moonlight remind you

of days we know

will always be

when sadness fills
a daunting morn
when a crevice in your heart
feels the void
remember the words
we never said
that love we knew
we never told

cha cha

i take delight every morning as we walk the roads in timid sunrise
i watch you run and leap and roam excitedly each time
as if it were the first, when you mimic butterflies sniffing at buds
how you crawl with the bugs finding their home on the damp soil

i laugh at you each time you try to fly with the birds you scare
with the flap of your ears or when you ruffle your furs
and how you reply with your soft playful barks when
other canines give you their ferocious growl

perhaps there's a lot i could learn from you
how you live a simple life finding joy each day anew
perhaps one day i'll let you take the lead
hold your leash loose with same trust you give,
i shall follow you

detached...

did i hurt you with my words?
when i cut thru yours
bursting dream coated pain
a shield you called, hope

do i hurt you with my silence?
as i watch
you bleed, wielding life that's not
yours, but borrowed from a morrow
fate drew far from you

will i hurt you when i leave?
letting go of your hold that bruised
pride of yesterday's
promise, that today squandered
in the name of faith

all colors fade, to become
only black or white
thin lines between infinities
of all things, and none
then you see
only a trace of a face
or an echo of  laughters
and whimper of tears

would i have mattered?

dreamer

let her love you
for a few hours tonight
while the sunflowers bow
to the monsoon winds
in a november sky

let her show you bridges
you burnt, sometimes in fear
or feigned indifference
to a rainbow's end
enticing a timid glance

let her count the hours
from now to never
and let her last seconds meet
infinity, just for tonight

let her love you..

till the dreaming ends

when she ends her dreams too

then you may leave her

between the lost days

of unreal lies...

turn your back and worry not

she wont remember

not until she dreams anew

He

he would tell you stories
of wars kept and lost
in his arms, once strong
etched a map of the trail
he planned to follow

steps hindered
of echoes of you
blurring
his sight, your images
burn a thousand promises
and one..you

he will not speak
of tomorrows, void
nor of a past, scarred
not even of today
where only his dreams
hold, the last breath
saved for the last whisper
of an undying love

just a silly dream

i woke to the chirps
of the strangest bird i've seen,
before the sun rose, this morning
pecking on the cookie crumbs
i threw away last night
it looked at me with a crooked smile
as i tried
to shoo it to leave,
go! and just take the crumbs

"what an ugly bird you are!" it said
oh! what the...heck im not a bird!
i said aloud, then it laughed
dancing in mock
of steps i knew from when
i was young

"come fly with me today!" again, it sang
i was shaking my head in confusion
asking myself what right
does this silly creature have
to come into my dawn...

i turned my back and ignored
its foolish rants...until it called my name

and then

i woke again
with a feather in my pocket
and cookies in my jar