Queen of the Night

The floor was a pool of tears.

The crimson liquid

of sticky water from my eyes

seeped into the deepest

pigments of my

skin

Dama of His Nights

 

She wakes me, then she vanishes.

But the scent of a thousand other flowers

seems to harmonize to annoy me

as it lingers in the four walls of this room.

 

Ang Pangaral ni Juan Tamad kay Ambisyosong Kasoy

Batid kong hirap ka sa kinatatayuan mo

ngayon kaibigang kasoy.

Oo nga’t madilaw at mukha kang matamis

kapag hinog

bakit pagkatao mo’y nasa kinalahati?

Bulong

Buto ni Kasoy

pinagkaitan ng tadhana

nangarap na makalabas

sa lungga

ninais na makita ang mundong ibabaw.

A Helium Inside Papa’s Balloon

When I was younger,

Papa used to buy me my favorite

balloon.

A red one.

I saw him smile at me

and taught me how to handle it

without losing hold on it.

He said that I should hold it

tightly with my little bare hands.

But I don’t know how to control

that’s why he tied the string

and knotted it accordingly

to my right thumb without

hurting my finger.

He was so patient.

First Aid

Blood stained on their clothes.

They are lying on the field,

under the burning rays of sun at noon.

Check for unresponsiveness,

put the victims in the shade,

use the improvised stretchers,

cover the wound with clean dressing.

Rescuing them, using whatever we learned.

The mock accident seemed to be true.

Mother of Crimes

I hate them

so I killed them…

Dama de Noche

 

The sound of bells

and silent chatter

from each side of the isle

and white petals that spread on

the crimson stretch

Behold:

A fairytale of maharlikas and

village maids.

Racing Wheels

When I was six

my father and I had a bicycle race.

“If you lose, I will leave you and go to work.”

The road was still wide

and the grasses wet with dew.

He didn’t wait nor let me win.

Twelve years later,

The Clothesline

On the porch, she sat

Alone,

as the sun shone upon her

a regal glow.

Her yellow dress flowed with ease

as it radiated shame and doubts upon

my oversized shirt and

lingered on the space

around

the insides of

my baggy pants.

I held out my

Hand

and waited for

the touch

that held on through

bright skies and ice creams and

days playing with

puddles of mud.

Until our feet became soddened with

dirt and water

and our hands,

wrinkled with soap suds and

still waters,

as we try to wash in vain

the stain of our

childhood

bliss.