old bicycle

Every four o’clock in the morning, before Papa left to work, he never forgot to give me a hug. This loving gesture would always stir my heart.

As he mount his old rusty bicycle, I would run outside to say goodbye. He would just smile. As he pedaled away, I would follow his silhouette down the road until he disappeared in a cloud of dust.

His old mountain bike was our first bonding together.

I remember then, back in grade school, he bought a bike for me and my siblings.

Bulong

Buto ni Kasoy

pinagkaitan ng tadhana

nangarap na makalabas

sa lungga

ninais na makita ang mundong ibabaw.

Rebellion

 

When I was six years old
I joined a pageant
walked on the runway
their eyes were upon me
as if I were an angel in their in their lives
captivated by my charms
marveled at my talents.
I acted in front of them,
“..my mother’s dead, my mother’s dead.
What? Mother’s dead without
my knowing?..”
Tears fell from my own eyes,
and theirs too.
I could make them cry
except her–
she clapped her hands
with half disappointment
behind her smile.
How could I please her?
I never thought of winning the crown
as long as I see her brightest smile.

Whisper

Wind chimes at my back

whisper vaguely through my ears

its reverence locked.

I can’t control the power,

it’s feeding my soul with fire.