Ritwal (Para kay Babs)

Hindi sumikat ang buwan sa langit,
nagtago sa likod ng kumot ng gabi,
nakipag-taguampung sa mga gabutil na salitang
sumingaw mula sa makipot na mga siwang

ng aking kamalayan. Hinanap ko sa usok ng ulan
ang bilugang hugis ng buntis para tumiktik
ng sariwang bahay-bata – lahok sa gayumang
ipapampahid sa tigang kong tiyan – upang

gulatin lamang ng katotohanang
katabi ko na ang mapaglarong buwan,
walang belo at matiyagang naghihintay
na pawalan ko ang mga usal na hahagad sa kanya

at magsasabing, “Taya!” (Kapag gising masikip
ang siwang kaya tinatapalan ito ng mga nginangang
dahon para di maghilom.) Nag-usal ako ng dasal.
Umungol ang buwan. Sinimsim ko ang pait saka

idinura ang latak ng damong kanina pa
nginunguya. Pinalapot ko sa aking paanan
ang magkahalong laway, latak at alikabok
saka ipinahid sa likod ng magkabilang tainga.

Natigalgal ang buwan sa ritwal. Umungol
kasabay ng pag-init ng ipinahid na putik.
Hinawakan niya ang aking tiyan at lumuha
sa naramdamang pagkalam nito. “Heto

ang bilugang hugis ng buntis. Samsamin
mo ang tamis at pait ng minsan kong
pagdaplis sa maikli mong buhay.”
At doon nahati ako sa baywang

nilipad ng maiitim kong mga pakpak
habang naiwan ang kalahati ng katawan.

Epitaph

Here lies...

Here lies the dreams
and aspirations
of an era gone by;
the wisdom of the ages;
and the candid
humor of life.

Here lies the nightmares
and miseries
of an oppressive past;
the foolishness of an old man;
and the cursed
sarcasm of fate.

May God have mercy on my soul!

- written some time in 2000 at the wake of a grandparent

Eclipse

Nasaan ka araw
nang kinailangan ko ang iyong init?
Nasaan ka noong ako'y nilalamig?
Hinigop na ng hangin
ang natitirang buhay
sinipsip mula sa balat
pinaglaho sa kawalan
ng kalawakan.

Paano na ngayon pag-aapuyin
nagyelo kong damdamin?
Paano pang babawiin
katinuan kong nagdilim?

- written in 2000

Last Trip

Drenched, I waited
for the train to arrive
to take me to
the outskirts of sanity.
'Twas Saturday
and the station was
deserted and quiet
'cept for the pounding
rain on pavement.
I clenched the one-way
ticket and slid it
into my pocket
to shield it from
the downpour of
two lifetimes ago.
I've forgotten how
rain felt on my skin -
pale now from the constant
patter, devoid of color
and life.
From the distance
it came announcing
its presence with the muffled
blow of horn and the blind
searching of headlights
through mist. Alas,
here is my ride
hovering over
rusted rails and wet earth.
I waved to welcome
salvation but the driver
didn't see the glint
of happiness in my eyes
and the sadness
of my goodbye.
I thought of her
one last time as I
made my way
down the overhang
with the ticket
still in my pocket -
a farewell letter:

Goodbye life
please tell her
I love her.

- written some time in 2000 for Cynthia

I Said I Loved You

I said I loved you
but now I wonder
if I knew what it
meant; the loss
of you left me
broken,
unkempt, blind
in an alley of mirrors
that reflect different mes,
lost in a thousand selves,
holding on to that one
reflection that caught
a fleeting moment
of bliss on my face,
but drawn irreverently
to the corner where
broken glass flash
back pieces of an
irreparable soul;

truth untold:
I could not have loved you at all.

- written some time in 2000

Solitaire

There I found myself
writing words that may
never be read by the one
for whom they are written.
I have expected this to happen,
subconsciously waited
for this to happen. Somewhere
along the way, I knew I'd be
left alone again, by myself
again, to share of myself
again, blindly to no one,
throwing myself at oblivion,
emptying the shell that
has been empty all along,
finding myself all alone
again, by myself again.
I look up at the door
hoping it would open to
reveal her, hoping, hopelessly
hoping again, alone
again, by myself again.

- written some time in 1998 for Ruth H.R.

Linger | Stay

When I can almost reach she flees,
like water in my hands 'tween fingers
drip, like breath I hold but fail to keep,
like grasps that lose the grip.

With every move, every whim,
charged currents flow 'neath skin,
circuits crash within, I implode,
explode, burst, though unwilling.

When I see her on her feet moving fast
around me, past me, door closing
behind her, I take one last breath of air
and take in lingering traces of her.

- written some time in 1998 for Ruth H.R.

Indian Summer

Melancholic utterances
bleed from the cracks,
the crevices, flooding
barren earth with tears
silver in the fluorescent
light of bulbous moon.
We have come to an impasse,
an end inevitable.
As the rain seeps,
we weep for the choleric
melancholic
beauty of a dying,
unnurtured love.

- written March 25, 2002

Slow Dance

You looked up at me with eyes that
mirrored the painful reality of the present.
There were tears of bitterness
waiting to fall and I was there with you
waiting to catch them with words.
We were locked in a dance and your eyes
spoke of a time when we were deeply in love
and fighting a future that neither of us
could see nor feel. When the first tear fell,
the pain in my chest became most unbearable.
I could not keep in step to the music.
It was the first song of the evening but we knew
it was the anthem of an ending long overdue.
How, then, do we dance to the music that
leads us further to the end? How do we dance
the slow dance of the inevitable goodbye?

- written some time in 2000 for Cynthia

Ramblings

I heard you talk about your insight
on affairs of the heart one night.
You caught my attention on-site.
Have I...?
Nah, it was the view at Kelly Heights.

I came to know a really great person
fun-loving and always in season.
For an ailing heart, you're like a potion.
Have I...?
Nah, it's out of season.

I hear your strong and reassuring voice
everything else becomes noise.
To me your voice is music of choice.
Have I...?
Nah, I'm not like most other boys.

I often catch myself looking your way.
I just caught myself the other day.
Didn't exactly know what to say.
Have I...?
Nah, not me, Jose.

I miss the smile that brings me cheer
whenever you're not near.
Now I don't want you ever to disappear.
Have I...?
Nah, unlikely, a bit queer.

I miss your punch and gentle attack
whenever I'm out on backpack.
You make me want to hurry back.
Have I...?
Nah, I don't want to turn blue and black.

I search around and look for you
and when I don't see you
I feel blue.
Have I...?
Nah, must be getting the flu.

And then one night you decided to trust me
with things you held in secrecy.
You can't imagine how much that meant to me.
Have I...?
Nah, I'm no sucker for intimacy.

I stayed on the phone with you 'til dawn
not wanting to put down the telephone.
To you I think I was drawn.
Have I...?
Nah, I've always been alone.

I guess I'll always remember
the day we dined together
when time really didn't matter.
Have I...?
Nah, but I think it's becoming clearer.

I sat beside you and wanted to stay
couldn't find a reason to go away.
I didn't want to leave you anyway.
Have I...?
Nah, it's too early to say.

I touched your feet and felt alright.
Can't remember if it was the left or the right.
I just knew then that it felt so right.
Have I...?
I don't know, maybe my head was light.

Then yesterday I saw you
with somebody else, someone I knew.
I didn't know what to make of the view.
Have you...?
Oh, how I wish it wasn't true.

I envied the hands that held you.
I envied the arms around you.
It was only then that I knew.

Yes, I have fallen for you.

- written in 1997 for Ruth