The cobblestones would turn to street-wide cashmere carpets
All of the Bibles would be mere booklets or pamphlets
The buildings would all bow down
All faces won't show no frown
Just to warmly welcome the city's legend
Weather would once again break and bend
The street names would translate themselves
All of my books, jumping from the shelves
The beaches would blow wave after wave
All tides would be mighty and brave
Just to accommodate my country's new king
The sun would smile, the moon would sing
The sidewalks would sway to his steps without other choice
All of the valleys would dance to the rhythm of his voice
The scriptures would tear themselves apart
All of the museums would grow a heart
Just so he could call my motherland his very own
Just so he could feel like a king who's coming home

I think, you have to be a **** *******.
**** the rules, of course. Forget the very word.
And run.
And ride.
And hide.
You have to avoid everyone and everything.
Avoid every unfamiliar feeling.
Avoid unfamiliar anything.
And run some more.
You have to curse better than a sailor can.
You have to stop thinking and dreaming about the sea.
You do not belong there, you are not feeling the ocean breeze.
And ride. Keep on riding.
Debunk every myth about you, with a worse news.
Dismiss every drunken enemy, with a bullet or a dime.
Defy the unknown and the unexplored by riding until you fly.
And ride some more.
And when it gets too good, be worse than ever.
And be the worst when you find the best.
And ride and hide and ride.
That's how to be the best cowboy there ever is.
And I am well on my way to be that.
I am well on my way to be just that!

And God forbid I get asked again,
"And what do you bring to the table?"
This time, my answer would be; "nothing!"
I have no worth without doing anyone favors,
I have no price without a pretty face,
I have no tags without brains,
I have no name without money,
I have no face without ***,
I have no place without favors.
I have no fame without sacrifices.
So leave me alone!
I don't even wish to sit at your table.
I don't even let myself dream about it.
Don't ask me no questions!
I don't even want to be in your vicinity.
I don't even want you back in my city.

¿Nadie te lo dijo? Eres bien famoso por aquí.
He derramado tu nombre en las calles y playas,
como vomitar después de una buena fiesta.
He manchado mi ropa y mi cuerpo con mentiras,
y le he contado a desconocidos una historia de amor ficticia.

¿Pero no te lo contaron?
He susurrado a las conchas sobre el sonido de tu voz,
para recordarlo cada vez que me ahogue en el mar.
He cantado en las iglesias sobre el color de tus ojos,
para que te recordaran y te besaran en mi lugar.

¿Pero tú lo recordarías?
Que reescribiría todos los poemas, escrituras y libros,
como limpiar hojas en primavera después del otoño.
Que le escribiría incluso al sol, reiniciaría el verano,
para que su calor te encontrara en cualquier parte del mundo.

¿Pero te das cuenta? Eres una leyenda por aquí.
He elevado tu nombre entre las estrellas y los dioses,
cómo he soñado y escrito sobre ti cada noche.
Has superado a todos los emperadores y reyes,
cómo un mito, cómo construí nuevas islitas con tu nombre.

¿Y finalmente lo entiendes?
Eres el tema de mis poemas, mis verdades, mi leyenda,
aunque no estés aquí ni a mi lado.
Que eres el recipiente de mis prosas, mis penas y playas,
que nunca será borrado por ningún tratado.

Sa gitna ng mga pangungusap at patinig,
sumisirit pa rin ang kislap, sumisitsit pa rin ang iyong tinig.
Sa harap ng mga katinig at mga salitang hiram,
mawala man ang tuldik, at impit, ika'y tutulo pa rin, tila ulan.
At sa likod nitong mga tula at awit ay ang tunay na ibig sabihin,
sana'y maunawaan mo pa rin ang sambit ng aking labi.
At sa ibabaw nitong mga salita, may hindi pa rin maisawika,
nawa'y maintindihan mo pa rin na ikaw ang sinisinta.
Ibabalik ko lahat sa'yo itong mga hiram na salita,
salin mula sa iyong lengguwahe, isasauli ng aking banyagang dila.
Pahintulutan **** ialay sa iyong may dagdag-bawas,
tila makabagong relihiyon, ngunit pangakong hindi ako mag-aaklas.

But what would you need from me?
Somebody who have heard every sound there is to hear,
What made you make the far journey over here?
You, who have walked cities I could only imagine now,
touched every sand, swam in every sea, basked in snow.
You, who have seen faces that I only see in paintings of oil,
laid your eyes on all shades of gold, coal, savored every soil.

But what could you want from me?
Somebody who seems to have everything,
what made you think I have something to offer a king?
You, who have riches that my people can't even dare to dream,
all the grains and flavors, of spices and silver, how they all gleam!
You, who have the finest of things, how life blessed you abundant,
all the valleys, jewels, oceans, rings, what more could you want?

But what else could I give you but ancient wisdom?
I am but an unnamed island, air kisses of breeze and palm trees.
I could not give you anything else but brand new calm and peace.
Poor little me, who only have plentitude of the sweetest of fruits,
the second best I could give you is my loyalty and truth.
Poor little me, I would only hurt and drown you with my tears,
they call me 'best' even from the west, but I only have seas of fears.

And what could an island be worth to a kingdom?
I am an uncouth, unknown maiden in front of imperial princesses.
I could not be your place of politics, you can't even build palaces.
Little old me, who only have endemic flowers of newer colors,
it is best to go your merry way, forget about my warm summers.
Little old me, I would only scare you with my quakes and storms,
don't write to me from home, simply leave me desolate and forlorn.

Ah yes, I stopped asking and annoying the sun;
"what are his summer plans?"
Rains just started rolling, city thunders are singing;
"what about his homecoming?"
I can't even ask about his day
without subtly saying;
"are you almost on your way?!?"
so much for silent praying.
Ah but I don't care now what he does or where he goes,
the clouds are grey and cold, so is my little nose.
Storms are humming, pacific sun is in hiding, but teasing;
"okay, but I am not the one hiding something..."

When she could bring the sun and fun
after surviving rains and pain,
that’s so tropical!
When she dances with the storms,
sings with the winds and their howls,
that’s so pacific!
When she steps out smelling like the ocean,
smiling, looking like the sunset,
she’s so tropical!
When she writes poetry out of tragedies,
takes lyrics and proses from calamities,
that’s so pacific!
When she smells like coconuts and mangoes
after cutting off people and letting them go,
oh, how tropical!
When she sways along with the palm trees,
instead of sulking down on her knees,
that’s so pacific!
The sun and storms,
the rains and fun,
the dances and the winds,
ah, how tropical!
The oceans, the calamities,
the tragedies, the poetry,
the coconuts, the people,
the mangoes, the palm tress,
so, so, tropical!

Isipin mo
Sasagot ba ako ng “oo”?
“Anong ibig sabihin n’un?”
‘Wag na lang kung ganun.
Kung iisipin mo
“tungkol ba kanino ang mga tulang ito?”,
mag-iisip ka hanggang sa araw ng libing ko.
Kaya’t wag mo nang isipin pa
dahil hindi sasambitin kahit ako’y ibitay,
kahit sunugin pa nila itong mga tula,
silaban man nila pati ang dagat!
Kaya’t wag nang kaliskisan pa
dahil hindi isisiwalat at isasatinig
dahil hindi magkakasya sa mga patinig
lahat ng damdaming nilalaman ng dibdib!

If the capital is at siege and war
oh, surely you are the belle and star,
if the city cries of cannons,
of course, you hum the birdsongs!
If peace seems to be by miles
it’s outshined by your smile,
if deception is paid by coins,
billions would be your toys!
And if the pain of betrayal speaks,
oh dear, I would be praying for weeks,
if curses should be written on paper,
your silence shall then be the traitor!
But if being the angel is key,
but kissing the devil is the way to be,
let me be the exit door for your likes,
I shall be the hell that melts your lies!

Kung ang kapayapaa’y nasa hilaga
at ang sigalot ay nasa timog,
ngunit ikaw ay nasa silangan
at ako nama’y nasa kanluran,
pipiliin kong tumúngo sa hilaga.
Ngunit kung ang puso ko’y nasa karagatan,
at ang iyong kamay ay nasusunog naman,
kung ang aking mga liham ay maging abo
at ang aking mga tula’y itapon sa súpot,
upang mahawakan ang iyong kamay,
handa akong magliyab at masunog.

Si la paz está en el norte
y la guerra en el sur,
pero tú estás en el este
y yo en el oeste,
elegiría ir al norte.
Pero si mi corazón está en el mar
y tu mano está ardiendo,
si mis papeles y cartas son cenizas
y mi poesía está desechada en un saco,
yo quemaría por tocar y tomar tu mano.

If peace is at north
and war is at south,
but you are in the east
and I’m in the west,
I would choose to go north.
But if my heart is at sea
and your hand is on fire,
if my papers and letters are ashes
and my poetry discarded in a sack,
I would burn to touch and take your hand.

I’m a simple girl;
I see the sun shines over the sea, I see God.
I see the sunrise, I see God.
I see the sea over the mountains, I see God.
I see the sunset, I see God.
I step foot on the island, I see God.
I see a friend’s smile, I see God.
I touch the sand, I see God.
I make a stranger laugh, I see God.
I make a new friend, I see God.
I see flowers, I see God.
I found you, I saw God.
I saw you, I saw God.

There is a poem I want to write
but can’t seem to begin to.
It’s just hanging over my head,
like a bounty of million.
It’s been bugging me,
like a fly buzzing.
I’m running out of good rhymes,
as you’re running out of time.
I am sorry, I am grateful.
I only wanted to know how you’re doing.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.
Take some of these sweets,
some baked goodies with familiar names.
They might taste a bit different,
perhaps the fruits will, too,
because they’re kissed by the warmer sun.
But I could pick more for you,
if you should want.
But I will try to stay on my side of the field.
I will stay under my shade at the beach.
If I could have last five feelings,
I would save them all for you.
If tomorrow I could be a ceiling,
I want to be in your room.
For the last time, I’m sorry.
I only wanted to know how you’re doing.
I just want us to be friends now, forever.

A for another flight soon?
A for akala mo yata nagbibiro ako...
A for alphabet
B for Buena Suerte
B for borrowed time
B for Buenavista
C for conyo
C for Con Hielo
D for Drowning (in El Nido)
D for Do not drink the tap water (in El Nido)
D for something I really need now
E for Erceflora
E for El Nido
F for Five Feelings
F for **** this ****
G for God please, allow me to go to
Guimaras
G for God’s Eyes
G for gago ka ba?!
H for Hand
H for Horses
H for Homebody
I for Iloilo
I for
I for I will get back to you soon
J for Jordan
J for Jollibee Jaro (Iloilo)
K for
K for kakasabi mo lang, babawiin mo agad?!
K for
L for low tide
L for La Union... again?!
L for loanwords
M for Mangoes

S for skipping to S
S for something sweet
S for summer summer summer!
T for tangina, tagal!
T for tag-init

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
For all of the books I’ve read, I thank you.
And for all of the magazines I’ve enjoyed, too.
My first notes and love letters, you are the recipient.
Written all for you, to tell you that you’re heaven-sent.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
I learned my ABC’s because of you.
All of my first words were taught by you, too.
I would learn more languages for you, create more art,
Just so I could tell you over and over; “I love you to my heart”
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
Because of you, my first colors were not shades of blue.
Thanks to you, I am chasing after my dreams, both old and new.
My books are the jewels in your crown.
My poetry is your kingdom come.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.
You were there when I first picked up a pencil,
you are still here as you open this poem with a seal.
You are the queen of my letters and poems,
you are the angel of my hopes and dreams.
𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴, 𝘐 𝘰𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Mother queen bee,
I wish you knew that your skin color
is the subject of envy
of women in the west and more!

The way the sun glows over your skin,
it’s nothing like they’ve ever seen!
The way I want to have your color every summer,
I’m sure this is something you’ve never heard before!

Mother dear,
I wish you knew that your skin is the honey,
that the baby bees need to be near,
and to have your color, other people would spend money!

The way your eyes and skin shines golden,
there’s nothing about you tthat I would change!
Like the way flowers bloom beautifully in the garden,
the bees says yes, the butterflies would nod in agreement!

(𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗥𝗼𝗮𝗻)


☎️
𝘏𝘪 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘺
𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘮, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰,
𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 ♡

Not a crush, we’re not in high school, darling
This rush, I never saw it coming
Don’t talk, I’ll write another line
'Cause thinking about you feels like a **** crime.
I’d love if you knew you are why I write,
more often than the times I even drink wine.
My book’s a flop, but here’s another one.
And who knows who you’re with again tonight?

Touch me baby, feel the heat on my skin,
come take me out of this hell that I’m in.
I know you want it, baby come and take it,
oh I’ve never tried it, doing it on some nice beach.

Like a mighty bird being clipped off its wings,
my old songs, I can no longer sing,
but you can help me,
make me fly and soar free...
Oh, I never thought I’d be
drowning In El Nido

Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)
Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)

I see how things are really gonna be
We’re too far to spin this to reality
Distance, both in body and mind,
I will stay entrapped in this fantasy.
But I can’t
help but think
what if we just try it?
In Palawan, our lips will be one.
One kiss away from your best mistake.

Touch me baby, you’re running out of time
I’m gonna snap and I will lose my mind!
Do you want it? I need to hear you say it.
Oh I’m losing my breath, drowning in El Nido!

Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)
Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)

Sunsets and sailboats
I kept your name like an oath
If you don’t try, then it’s your loss
One kiss away from your best mistake!

Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)
Save me, baby (save me, save me, save me, save me)
Save me, baby (drowning in El Nido)

Won’t you ******* come here?
Kiss me, touch me, save me? (drowning in El Nido)
But I want all of it now! (drowning in El Nido)
Oh, yeah, oh (drowning in El Nido)
Drowning in El Nido...

Is it because it’s summer?
I can’t tell with the way I shiver.
How are you back home?
I can’t imagine how it’s like in your room.
“How many more tomorrow’s?”
I sing a happy song with much sorrow.
“If so, when?”
I sigh as if it’s the world’s end.
Is it because it’s summer?
I can’t tell if you are much colder.
Or is my heart just locked in a freezer?
Can you tell? Tell that I’m a good kisser?
Just another one of my jokes,
I might drink until I’m broke.
Like just another friend you met,
I might crash and break my good leg.
Is it because it’s summer?
You’re cold as ice, is this how you care?

Que caliente está el sol ahora más que nunca,
ven a sentirlo en tu piel, siente también el mar...
Quizás puedas encontrarme en otra isla.
Ven...
Que más fresco está el mar ahora desde el año pasado,
sigo olvidando el color de tus ojos, y qué dolor...
Encontrarás el verano entre mis labios.
Verme...
Cómo las calles cantan tu nombre,
cómo te llaman, queriendo encontrar significado entre...
Quizás puedas decirme su significado y origen.
Venir...
Cómo estos caminos escriben poemas en tu gloria,
pero el poste de luz pregunta: "Cuántos mañanas más?"
Verás el sol dorado en mi cara.
Ven a verme...
Y cómo mi piel se calienta aún más mientras te espero,
las palabras se escapan, mi pluma se me resbala de la mano.
Ven pa' ca...
Y cómo se me eriza el pelo, también esperando tu tacto.
Por fin mi cuerpo está en armonía, pero mi corazón está perdido.
Vente para ca...
Pero si finalmente decides romperme la piel, el cuerpo y el corazón,
aún así te sonreiré y te diré: "buena suerte, cariño."

Nalalayuan kaya ang mga ibon tuwing tinatanaw
ang malawak na hinagap ng kaparangan?
Nasisilaw pa rin kaya sila sa bukang liwayway
kahit mula pagkamulat ay iyon ang kinagisnan?
Nasasaktan pa rin kaya sila sa ganda ng paglubog ng araw
at ang angking kawalang pagkakatulad ng bawat isa?
Natatakot pa rin kaya sila sa halik ng dilim
kahit ang gabi ay nangangakong magdala ng lamikmik?
Kay rami ko pang nais itanong sa mga ibon,
kay bigat ng patong sa munti nilang mga pakpak.
Paano magtatanong ang isang hamak na bulaklak
sa kagitingan ng mataas at malayang agila?
Kay rami ko pang balak ibulong sa mga maya,
kung may pangarap man sila, ihahalik ko sa hiraya.
Ngunit anong magagawa ng isang payak na talulot
sa ilalim ng langit at sa ibabaw ng gumuguhong mundo?

Why are you resisting?
You know that my place is all things holy.
Deep down, you're aware I am your sanctuary.
You too, are indoctrinated, yet another skeptic.
Come inside, I might just change your mind.

𝘊𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮.
𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘮.

Why are you fighting this?
You know that all I have is nothing but sacred.
One look up, you'll see the promised garden.
Like me, victim of religion, the wine to your bread.
Come here and hide, I might just change your life.

𝘊𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘶𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘉𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘪𝘰 𝘷𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘮.
𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘶𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴?
𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘮 𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘮.

When the western air blows,
I still feel you close...
As lovely as spring,
how bright are the colors you bring!

With the eastern breeze winds,
I always feel you near...
As warm as summer,
how fast you bury the cold of winter!

𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯'𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘦
è 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘦
𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦.

𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘪 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢
è 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘻𝘻𝘢
𝘥𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘰 𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘢.

Like roses are destined to dry,
I too deserve to be free
from expectations so mighty and high.

Like lilies will begin to wilt,
I too lay my palms open for another
sisterhood and kinship killed.

Like daisies are promised doom,
I too swear to grow everywhere
like mere and measly mushrooms.

Like carnations will clump and crumble,
I too let go of my rains and storms
and let it all out like a thunder’s rumble.

When the hues of red turns purple,
that’s when you drink the wine.
When music is anything but loud,
that’s when you know it’s time.
Like prickly thorns must kiss
the tender petals goodbye.
Like little spiders must bid
their web of safety farewell.
Red to blue to yellow then white,
that’s when you wave and smile.
Loud to mellow to static then blank,
that’s your cue to go and never look back.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦,
𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘴”
Nature begs to be written,
walked over, talked about.
As beauty, art, landscapes,
birds, seascapes, also does.
No, they need to be spoken about,
sung hymns to, screamed atㅡsometimes.
And I would indeed stop and smell;
the roses, the sampaguitas,
admire and be awe-struck over
the lilies, the gumamelas,
even as they rot and dry away.
Even as I forget to eat, like a bad day.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬,
𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘦𝘮𝘴”
Betrayal is part of human nature,
at this point and at this big age,
I suppose there is an equally
big truth in that. And much pain to boot.
And I suppose, too, I need to begin
to learn how to enjoy it.
Because betrayal too, has been
enjoying toying with me.
How do I write poems about it though?
Where do I even begin?
Probably with this:
“We used to be the best of friends,
but we were never each other’s
****** wedding guests.”

It's April now and my skin is still as white
as the paper in which I whisper and write.
It hurts.
I want to see your face again.
It's summer now and my heart is still as cold
as if I'm another slave successfully sold.
It stings.
I want to hear your laugh again.
It's April now and my body is still as stiff
as a branch of a tree below a mountain cliff.
It burns.
I want to be with you again.
It's summer now yet it's winter in my soul
as if I know how winter feels, I'm a fool.
But it's cool.
I just want to see your face again.

A Manileña doesn’t mince her words.
She doesn’t sweeten up the bitter truth.
A Filipina’s words strike like a sword.
She would get down and ***** to the roots.
She could sing like an angel, easily join a heavenly choir.
But she could curse the devil, make him quiver and cry.
She could recite poems and prayers,
think of you during novena and death alike.
But she could also write your eulogy,
hold a funeral for you while you’re still alive.

My words shoot when provoked,
my poems heal when deserved.
My quill could ****,
my sword are my words.
My mouth could bring drought,
spit that could send you down to pits.

And even when I hate,
it’s out of care and love.
I know I’ll never lose a war.
And when I don’t feel the best,
I simply breathe, read, and take a rest.
And I write poetry, you can never **** or defeat me.

It’s up to youㅡwhat’s it gonna be?
You write and decide, should I heal or ****?

You’re right.
I do not take rejection well.
For I take rejection sea.
I float and swim in it until I’m free.
I dive in it until I feel opposite of glee.
You’re correct.
I do not take “no” graciously.
For instead of grace, I become the sea.
I slap the shore until my blue turns green.
I blow my waves into squares as I scream.
That’s right.
When I lose, I never use it as a noose.
Instead I sizzle and heat up like a fuse,
smile like a muse, call ******* on truce,
win and govern all your lands like Zeus.
That’s correct.
When I’m denied, I show that I can bite.
I show teeth and they sparkle bright,
tell them I am not as frail as a kite,
I am the moon on a star-free sky at night.

But what is spring breeze,
if not absence of a kiss?
If summer is hot and torrid,
spring is lacking indeed.
If spring is but a tease,
summer comes with ease.
If summer brings the true wind,
spring only hides want and need.

No.
Stop, darling.
I don’t want love confessions in the rain.
I fancy them in movie scenes,
not so much in reality, it seems.
It is late March now,
summer’s coming around.
If I should ever want a love confession in the rain from you,
that would take about three to four months from now, that’s cruel.
Way too long.
No. No. Stop it, honey.
Anyway I never cared about my life looking like a movie.
I’m saying, if you wanna say something,
then hurry!
I prefer kissing in the sunset because we just can’t help it,
than melodramatic yearning in the rain and we’re both wet.
If I should want a love confession from you,
I want it in summer here,
enough time has passed and I’ve been kind, don’t you think so, dear?
No. No. No!
Stop right there, my love.
In June, it will be rainy, lonely, drab
and dull here again.
Should I wait and ask for another six months: “God, when?”
When?
When?
I don't want love confessions in the rain.
Come here, darling.
Go.

Lemme start with the letter L for
Ley/Lex

A for Actus reus;
Alibi, Alter ego,
AND my favorite; Ad nauseam

Nemo debet esse judex in propria causa or
Nemo judex in causa sua or
Nemo judex in sua causa

Contra,
consensus,
𝗖𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗶𝗮 𝗲𝘅 𝘀𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗮 𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗮𝘁.

E for Ex post facto.
Estoppel!
Ex gratia...

Quid pro quo, thanks for the comedy gold.
Amicus curiae, you have no friend to spare.
Res ipsa loquitur, go run and hide
like the ***** that you are...

***** de jure...

Coffee for fuel, wine for relaxation.
Beer for party, water for hydration.
Green tea? I fancy.
*****? One for a kiss.
My words shoot when provoked,
my poems heal when deserved.
My quill could ****,
my sword are my words.
My mouth could bring drought,
spit that could send you down to pits.
Liquid is for assets, solid for *******.
Gas is for air, gas is also for fuel.
Come back here, why fear a little duel?

Crees que conoces la ley,
pero yo soy la maldita ley.
Y en realidad no me conoces,
así que en realidad no conoces la ley.
Permíteme volver a presentarme;
yo soy la rey de esta ciudad
y de estos mares.
Yo soy la maldita rey.
Debajo de mí, te arrodillarás y llorarás.
Para usurparme, no habrá manuales.
Porque no puedes acabar
con el régimen que es mi ira y mi furia.
Me cuentan en los cuentos de hadas,
estoy escrita en la leyenda.
Bebo las lágrimas de las perras,
sus gritos son mi merienda.
Crees que conoces la ley,
pero yo soy la maldita ley.
Y yo soy tu maldito rey.
Y frente a mí, te arrodillarás y orarás.

As stale as day-old bread

Much gray as year-long dread

Lie down your own messy bed

In which you are as good as dead.

Long story short,
I walked alone within the walls of fort.
He’s not mine, so I'm not his valentine.
My heart may be his, but his lips I won't kiss.
I might be in love, but I'll still hit the club.
Long story yet also short,
as I’ve already cut the cord.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
no need to guess and find any clue.
I cried alone within our favorite church.
He’s not my valentine, he ran out of time.
My letters have him, my lights are now dim.
I have another’s flowers, I'll remain a lover.
Long story short, unlike those letters,
without each other we'll be much better.
Roses are red, violets are blue,
image of my smeared lipstick, it’s not by you.

Minsan, may kaibigang nagsabi sa akin,
“Mas mabuti talaga ‘pag
nilalabanan ang sakit.”
Taon ang lumipas, sinabi rin ng kaibigan,
“Minsan mas mabuti na lang
pag nilalabanan ang pagmamahal.”
Hindi niya sinambit, hindi ng kanyang labi,
ngunit alam ko rin naman ang kanyang ibig.
Hindi ito pangangamba o pag-aatubili,
sadyang kanyang dibdib ay hindi ko kabig.
Bakit tila ganito ngayon ang radyo?
Walang awit, tanging tinig.
Bakit iba yata ang ihip at pihit nito?
Walang tugtog, ngunit ang sambit;
“Mabuti na rin pala
na hindi ko nakita ang iyong mukha.”
Walang kulog, ngunit may awit;
“Maigi na rin yata na ako na
ang bagong paksa ng luksa.”

Behold this box in which I carry my secrets.
If I ask you, would you be able to keep it?
Behold this case in which I kept my youth.
If I answer this poem, will it make the due?
Here lies all that there is or ever was...
If I would try to, could I make it last?
Here comes all that will come or will be...
If I fight for you, would I end up bruised?
Behold this ring which I’ll kiss with fists.
If I duel with time, could you give me a kiss?
Behold this arena in which I will be boxed.
I will brawl with pain, leave me knocked.

I want the cliche romance.
I want all the cheesy stuff.
Yeah I want some flowers.
And yeah I want to call you.
I want to write you more letters.
I want to play tag and be the 'it'.
I want my poems to wage and weather.
I want heart-shaped ****.
I want to ask you to come over.
I want to talk more and more.
I want to catch up.
I want to know you again.
I want to cook us dinner.
I want us to leave laughters at every corner.
I want us to move furniture.
I want us to levitate to somewhere higher.
Ah, I want us.
I want to break the fixtures.
I want you to show me how good it can get.
I want you to teach me all the ways to get a woman wet.
I want your heavy breaths.
I want you covered in sweat.
I want to get back at the noises of my neighbors.
I want them to hear my moans and screams of pleasure.
I want them more annoyed than ever, even angered.
I want them to report me to the property manager.
Oh God, how I want you.
I want us to touch the sky, taste heaven together.
I want to kneel, in prayer.
I want to pray better.
I want to play my cards like I have never.
I want to play house forever.

¿Fue culpa tuya o fue culpa mía?
¿Soy el que lo encendió?
Creo que simplemente me rendiré
y me incriminaré.
¿Pero fuiste tú quien lo empezó?
Creo que simplemente cantaré
y me encerraré.
Ahora no importa quién empezó qué,
lo que importa es quién lo termina y cuándo.
Pero ahora no importa cómo termine,
ya estoy quemado por el puta cortocircuito.
Pero, sabes que? Seguro que lo sabes.
Que por ti volvería a electrocutarme.
Por ti lo haría todo una y otra vez.
Así que acércate más, más cerca que nunca,
ven, y tócame, devórame.
¿Será mi culpa o tu culpa?

I already know the answer.
So what if I have been thinking about you still? What about it?
What if I have been imagining how good your kiss must feel? What of it?
So what if I have been dreaming about what could have been? What is it to you?
What if you were here right now because you want to tell me something? What is it?
I know the answer.
I know it as I would know my own letters.

So what if I have been thinking about your touch, but this time, in places nobody knows where? Oh well, now neither do you.
So what?
So what if I have been imagining doing things with you, sort of things that you can now only imagine and think about too?
Now what?
So what if I am still here, writing poems?
So what if I am hiding, like Texas hold ‘em?
But I understand.
Like I do the lines on the back of my hand.

And so what if I have been daydreaming of sitting on a field on a sunny day with you?
So what if I’m imagining you taking my sundress off, like tearing petals down?
What about it?
So what if I imagine us having cute picnics and then making a mess of the picnic mat every single time, like it’s a routine?
So what?
So what if I think about these kind of things when you clearly don’t want them or don’t want anything at all, what pain it brings!
So what is it to you?!
Well, no problem, I heard.
Loud and clear as the chirps of the birds.

My dearest love,
my tree is ever abundant...

But I will never let you fall.
Rewriting an age-old story,
in fact, I’ll take the fall... I’d even crawl.
And by me, you’ll never be betrayed.
Carving a new rib from my body,
our story won't be one of gray and strays.

I’ll take the fall.
You’ll never be blue.
God can rue me and curse me!

But I will never fail you.
Come closer, take a bite,
you’ll see heaven is true.
And no, you will 𝘯𝘰𝘵 certainly die.
For God may be absolute, yet he lies;
my love for you will always be kind.

For all eternity I will crawl.
You’ll never be hungry with all my fruits.
History, make a villain and fool out of me!

My dearest love,
my tree is ever abundant.
“𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥”,
then call me God of the blind.

We observe. We listen. We watch.
If we, too, will be observed back.
We crucify. We criticize. We ostracize.
Before we, too, will be crucified.
And we read each other
as if our faces are some pages.
And we judge each other
as if our phases are just cases.
But people are not books.
We cannot read each other,
our stories changes and hooks
with every passing hinge and look.
I’d rather we write of each other
as if we are all authors of no horrors.
I’d rather we pen one another,
as if everyone is their own poet and writers.
Because people are poems.
Because we are poetry in flesh.
Because people are problems.
And people are also the solutions.

𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘓𝘰𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘦

There once was a goddess made of gold
Sought by many but only a few can behold

Her beauty the most coveted of all,
An object of desire that is universal

With her golden sight,
She goes deeper than what meets the eye.
With her golden smile,
She radiates her warmth like a summer sky.
With her golden hands,
She unravels tangled heart strands.

But only those
brave enough to delve deep,
and forge their path through shadows steep

Those who dare to see, the courage in her misery
The ones who can feel her soul's mystery,
Can be blessed by the Golden Goddess,
and find the treasure, rare and true—her golden heart.

Oh, what grace it is.
To be Loved by the Lady with the goLden hue.

When I am out and about with my friends,
I am the best lover.
When I am alone and sitting in the dark,
I try to be a stardust.
Whenever I feel happy and content,
I am a little girl.
Whenever I feel down and worried,
I am an old woman.
Whenever I want something,
I am a *****.
Whenever something’s after me,
I am a witch.
Whenever I am free and light,
I am actually sad inside.
Whenever I look frail and in fright,
I actually need someone by my side.
When I am walking at night in the city,
I am guarded.
When I am in the confines of my room,
I am discarded.
When I am sitting in a cafe,
I am the sugar that I didn’t ask for.
When I am stirring my chocolate at home,
I am the salt I mistakenly sprinkled over.
Because I have always been alone,
I am a cold mountain.
But when I felt your touch,
I am but a flower.
Because all I heard are my own cries,
I am a sharp, hot rock.
But when I heard the sound of your voice,
I am but tiny petals under the sun.

Minsan may maririnig kang
mga tunog o hiyaw,
na mapapatanong ka;
“pusa ba ‘yon o bata?”
Minsan may makikita kang
dalawang taong magkasama,
na magtataka ka;
“mag-ama ba ‘yon o mag-jowa?”
At kung minsan din may madarama kang
mapapatigil ka na lang
at mapapatulala sa tuwina;
“pag-ibig na ba ‘to o pagkakaibigan lang?”

Ngunit sa lahat ng mga tanong na ito,
sa ingay ng mga tunog,
sa dilim ng pagtataka,
sa gitna ng tahimik na mga hiyaw,
sa liwanag ng pagtulala,
sa nakakabinging nadarama...
Ano bang pagkakaiba?
ano bang pagkakaiba?
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay mapapakinggan.
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay maaaring makita.
Sa lahat ng ito, pag-ibig ay mararamdaman.
Ano nga bang pagkakaiba?

Kapag niyaya kitang lumabas ulit,
this time, I don't know, maybe sa zoo?
Kahit sumakay lang tayo sa jeep,
next time na lang sa Maynila or museum?
Sasama ka ba?
Kung sa bagay, ayaw ko pa ring magka... alam mo ba?

Pagkatapos, kakain tayo sa labas. Na naman.
Baka ikuwento ko na rin ang nakaraan,
'yun ay kung nais mo lamang malaman.
Dahil yung sa'yo, jusmiyo, alam ko na rin naman.
At ayokong maging unfair, parang kanin na walang ulam.

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

And did you say she was pretty?
And did you say that she loves you?
Baby, I don't wanna know!
And can you tell me, was it worth it?
Really... I don't wanna know.

Naaaliw ka ba sa'kin? Tawa ka kasi nang tawa.
Pero kung yayayain ulit kita, maybe sa zoo,
sana ay bigyan mo naman ako ng awa.

Ngunit kung sasabihin kong "wag mo kong iwan",
ngunit gusto mo palang mapag-isa,
ok lang sa akin. Uuwi na lang at magsi-siesta.

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

Mahal ka ba niya talaga?
Mahal ka ba niya talaga?

Ako, hindi pa naman.
Hindi ko pa alam. (4x)

Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or perhaps maybe baka ito na yata ang last na tula?
Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or maybe hihintayin na lang, parang iyong mga kanta?
Bibigyan mo ba ako ng dahilan?
Or baka we're meant to be friends lang talaga?

Anyway, I'll follow you down 'til the sound
of my voice will haunt you.

Anyway, this is "Wonderwall".

Anyway,
please ***** pa rin tayo sa zoo.
Sa zoo (6x)

I hate to be the one to break it to you,
right on the first day of the year anew,
but here’s the breaking news:
I am the one for you.

Yet the ball is no longer in my court.
This is not a game, but love burns and hurts.
Love is not a war, but a kingdom has a court.
And every king needs his queen of hearts.

And if I am the one, you would see my heart is not easily won.
You can try, but you can’t find another of my kind among the ton.
And if you even dare, you would come closer and get out of your phone.
You can fly, sway, cry, swing, but you can’t avoid me, I’m your new bone.

And if you wanna play, you’d win a prize you’ve never had before.
Yes you’d feel every emotion you’ve never known, except bored.
And if you wanna fight, you’d bring a castle facing the sea, along the shores.
But no, the ball is no longer in my court,
and I am sure as day, that’s for sure.

You know it, and you know it well.
Do I really have to say it? Hell.
I'll get straight to the point;
I am the obvious choice.
You can’t shake me, I’m your joint;
before you sleep, I’m that little voice.
Do you really have others anyway?
And if you do, are there really
better options, by the way?
Are there any other poems on your desk?
And if there are, are they actually
sent and written by the best?
So do I really have to say it?
You already know it.
No matter the language,
the truth simply drips from your lips.
You can’t escape me, I’m your missing rib;
before you go, kiss me as you pull my hips.
I’m the wave that rips.
I’m the edge of the cliff.
I’m the winning manuscript.
You know it, and you know it well.