Monday, February 25, 2008

I thank Frances Sargett Osgood.

Una sa lahat,

Mahirap mag-akda ng tulang 'di mais
lalo na kung bulok sa sa Filipino.
Sa English grabe ang ganda sana nito
k'tulad ng taong tinutulaan ko.
Makwento sana ang paminsang
saglit --
Mga sandaling tumitigil ang
oras
Cute na jests sa ngiting aking nasisipat
'sang tanong,
nagtanong na nga ba dapat?
Pagkat may
meaning
ang kabuoan nito --
Sa bawat kindat at pitik ng halakhak.
At kung anuman ang palitan sa
tatak,
Ako'y totally ZEN anumang magbago.


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para sa isang project na alam ng kaunting tao.


hm.. thank you indeed Edgar Allan Poe.

Sunday, February 3, 2008

Saturday, February 2, 2008

jeepney existentialism

Wearing a torn white shirt, he tells her, he has no money.
Between the coins in my and and two-word conversations, this is the most contact I make with people.
She, though, with one hand in a sling, and a baby on top of the other, says, Ok then, sure.
Viewing everyone through a mirror, I wonder if there really is more out of life.
He says, Thanks. He winks.
With her, smiling, I tap my fingers.
With more and more people climbing up, I wonder, Do I even exist.
Someone starts to talk about Jesus.
I think, What's the point.
Wrong move, sister.
Someone holding up her hand, coughing loudly, I wonder if people even care.
Another someone saying something, I feels fingers tap-tap-tapping my back.
I wonder.
Someone, like, slaps me.
I wonder.
Between beer and drugs, this is the most high I get.
I raise both my arms and stretch my feet, especially my right, and then, as always, someone screams.
Viewing everyone through a mirror, I smile.

Curse you, Org.

As we walk home, the spinning rifle of the rose still hurricanes through my mind.
Walking to another flower, her hands hold on tighter.
Perhaps I said something clever, 'cause now, she's laughing.
Clever.
Perhaps it is too heavy.
Maybe this too much.
The flash-flash-flash of the camera still frozen into my eye, i wonder if the bear's too pink.
Or maybe she's bluffing.
Swoosh swoosh swoosh.
Pity.
Thank you Edgar Allan Poe.
Something in my pants vibrating, I feel the sweat in my palms.
As fast as a raven, I read the message.
Flash.
Her laughing stops, and I smile.
Flash.
Closing my eyes for a second, I hold her hand.
Flash.
Oh. Yes. I forgot the rose.