Indak ng mga nota ng panahong nawaglit ka sa aking piling.

kasi ako’y naging biktima ng pagkakataon: isang pangungutya ng pagkakataon. ako’y patawarin, ito’y dinggin.


sa hangin na dumuduyan

sa bawat ugoy

ng mga salitang

p a r i t o ‘ t – p a r o o n

na umukit sa mga bituin

sa langit; iaalay ko’ng lahat

makita ko lamang

ang ngiti

na umiindak

sa’yong matatam-is

na mga labi: bukas,

bukas nang muli

ang mga brasong

sabik na sabik

sa init ng ‘yong pag-ibig.


minsan pa’y

ibabaling ang tingin…






#Hashtag #PetPeeve

This is totally something uncalled for. I tried to blink away the fogginess my head stirs in. And maybe. Just maybe, this would appear utterly nonsense. Actually, it might make no sense at all. But I hope you find yourself nodding as take the whole point in this. A little something after aeons of not writing (at least, well, in a poetic sense). And may you find yourself cracking a smile or two as you finish this. lol





I yearn to write right beside you.

But the right to right the wrongs I’ve done

has been taken away from me.

Just as you were; where I’ll never find you. Or you me.

Albeit, you’re your own person, and thus

I pray fervently it’s still us in the end.

And the sun shone its shine, bathing us in its warmth.

Let’s not ask who are we to share with in the future,

nor whom we’ve shared with in the past.

For which I’ll lay bare: even my darkest secret.

And perhaps, forget all the rest and just lie down.

Ironically, as it seems, we move farther

a w a y

from each other…

And yet, you remained buried, further down my heart.

And in spite of everything that I’ve said,

Life is what we make it.

I Gave You

and you’re always in my mind;

the window to your world gives a glimpse

that I selfishly want for me.

I believe you helped me—thus,

I give you my heart. my soul.

and the blood rushes to my cheeks:

the picture of you in your white

wedding dress, etched.

I just want that feeling,

just once more.

Tell me what to do.

I’ll be your man and we’ll fly high.

And even when you’re feeling


know that my wishes have come true.



May soliloquy si Sisa?

may mga bagay na pilit nating itinatago sa ating kaibuturan

upang matakpan ang higit pang punong salop.


at mas kadalasan sa minsan, higit pa sa kaya nitong hawakan

kaya’t sa huli’y para itong tubig na pilit iginagapos ng mga subok nang daliri.


paano nga naman mababatid ng isipang puno ng galit?

at kung hindi man, ay napunlaan ng liso ng hinananakit.


bagay na bagaman ay pinasisinungalingan ng

tandang-tandang mga matang naka-bukas—nananatiling tikom ang kanyang bibig.


isang hinagpis ng pagsabog ang kanyang ipinagdiriwang

upang makalimot sa mga panahong kanyang pinagdaan.


bagkus pa’y di mawari ang kangandahang kanyang nasisilayan,

kailan pa bang makakamtang muli ang kaligayahan?




Wide-eyed frantic stare;

Loomed above the streets below

are busy—

Let’s hope tonight will come.

Eager bodies and restless souls:

Enslaved by their own. On their own.

Vaguely, I only made out

the commons we had.

Wasted time.

Wasted opportunities.

were not.

I bought the wrong ticket.

And you left.

Who am I not to be still


by your beauty?

You eased the pain I’m feeling;

I wish for you to never grow old.

Opened arms and loving smile—

Closed, calm eyes:

I hope for the night to come again.

Curtain Call.

And like the at most end of performances, it’s time for the curtain call.



But maybe, not just yet.


The spotlight’s on us; I take on the mic.


I don’t know if I have manned enough to post my message for you guys. I am, after all, may appear as just another lazy classmate who you once had the doomed chance to be seated with. Or the not-so reliable group mate. Nonetheless, I want to take this opportunity to speak my mind once again.

For once, I never regretted and cried over something I was used to doing. When I thought I have grown up, I never actually did. And thus, the consequences of leaving a group of people I finally came to realize I call friends.  Family. Home. Cliché as it may appear, it was a nice notion. That kind of idea that boils something intangible inside you.

The full two years with you made me realize things. Faith. Desires. Hopes. Goals. And of course Love. These what drive and motivate the young mind of our generation. It’s something worth treasuring and keeping. Those days with you: may it be under an umbrella, or on the chairs and tables of the square canteen, or the shade of the tall, green trees, or; walking and weaving our way through the sea of people.

Yes, the sea of people. As we individually take on our chosen paths, I yearn for our paths to meet. And then, we bow. Flowers are tossed.

Momentarily, the curtain is called. ‘Til we meet again. 



I would love to hate everything about you…

except that your almond eyes speak more than your lovely mouth.

except that your nose isn’t real but it doesn’t get long, way better than real but could lie a thousand years.

except that your pink, plump, luscious lips are always filled of better judgment. For others—always thinking about others.

except that your ears will always yearn for that good music you long to give but has been given by you already, even from the start.

except that your rosy cheeks that contain the lone dimple that discards the abnormality of itself.

except that your beautiful long slender fingers fondle the piano and saxophone so well.

except that your goddamned of a body is perfectly sculptured, it’s inhumanly possible not to be devoured noticed.

except you’re too goddamn of a selfless idiot. I hate every fucking selfish bastards instead.

except that you’re an angel born on a lovely rainy day. Definitely sent from up above.


except that I love you too much that it hurts. I hate myself instead.





Ethereality of Mortality

Those three words are said too much; too much certainly, that they may have lost its own candor—innocence even. They might… No scratch that. They’ll never be enough. And thus, I shall negate everything that’ll come out from your mouth. Everything that’ll escape between your lips—the very same with pink, plump flesh that I yearn for. And the very same where I have seen that lured mine even with full cognizance that behind it were pair of beautiful, long fangs. I let myself be bitten.

I shall address the familiarity the image is giving me: the contrast of how saturated the picture despite the wryness radiating from it.

And that’s how polar our personalities can be. Indeed, you’re due west, and I’m on a straight line heading east. And we may travel along the equatorial line, the tropic of cancer or the tropic of Capricorn—it won’t matter. For as long as the Earth rotates on its axis we’re bound, destined even, to meet each other again.

As the turtle races towards the sun, with it shall be the length of my loving of you. I shall whistle of a happy tune: no one shall know I’m afraid and lost without the nearness of you.

As the water flows down the river or run deep in the vastness of the seas, with it shall be the gentleness and tenderness of being with you.


As the fire blazes it ferocity shall come with it the burning passion and desire to love you over and over again.



Part Tri: Kahel ang Araw

Isang panaginip na hindi natutulog,

mga sandaling mintis sa’yo ang dulog.

Sa pagpihit ng hangin at

hampas ng alon,

isang himig ang aking pabaon

ang pangarap—ko ay. ang.

makapiling ka.

Maraming panahon ang ginugol:

tagaktak ng pawis,

sapilitang pagdilat ng mata,

pag-inda ng panunuya, at;

paglaban sa pag-iisa.

Binawi at binaliwala ang lahat

ng makita kang masaya.

Hindi maituturing na


sapagkat ito’y isang


Matuto ring lumipad;

Ang pag-aantay ay sapat.



–Mga Konsepto ng Pag-Ibig ni Aling Bebang, isang trilohiya

“기다릴게, hermit.”