Poetry

I wish you’d let me write my poetry. My words, stuck between pen and paper Never allowing your sight through   My lines, your ears on my untelling Story. Precisely because you see, Hear, and feel me that I cannot   Call upon you. So leave me With words to speak, transcending Walls,...

  Wind from the lake below Has brought the fine rain That wet the stair railings Between classrooms on Makiling. As I step out after class, The cold droplets cling to my palms And I check the gray sky, The west tinted with fading orange. It seems to have held back The drenching:...

I keep a lover and He means so much to me. When I think of him I feel light-headed And giddy from within. We test each other’s Patience then make love Like there’s no tomorrow. He is in myself, My triumph and tempest, He makes me seethe With rage and passion Till we both are...

  And this shall be my last goodbye.   Do not leave your door— even your windows, The leaks in your ceiling open for my voice Seal your heart for if I come to return to your hands The pieces of my heart wrapped in your shirt I shall think...

That night, that second, when you were dying a thousand deaths in my arms, I pulled my left hand from your waist and lifted the bottle of San Miguel Beer on the table and poured its remaining content all over me. Then I, à la gremlin, multiplied into...

From the morning to the evening Fresh young hearts were set to burning With desire; pain and sadness yet to know.   He my lover first to waken Mind and body, my heart taken, Then set to match, see how the embers glow.   My hand he takes and places On his...