siya

 

*

Photobucket

 

she likes seashore naps and the view of everything from the bus window. she likes tiny moments and the small spaces between faces when people talk.

 

sometimes, she wakes up to that odd feeling of being a fallen leaf, an old tree, an azotea or a waitress somewhere-- talking to a taxicab driver about that random song on the radio.

 

*


 ---

 poetry as visual art

 powets do kick ass

 iPud (ako, too)

---

 

 

 

 

 

Photobucket

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and this. a proof that:

how you see LIFE is how

you actually see YOUR self.


 

*

Photobucket

*



 

 

***

 

maddening spurt:

----------------------

 

 “The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!”

 

-Jack Kerouac-

 

dupa

12/2/08

*

 

if i were to introduce my self

to a broken stranger, i’d say:

“i am like you to someone else”

 

=

if i were to pick your most attractive act,

it would have to be the manner you ask me

“did i snore?”

and if i answer no,

you move your face a little and smile,

eyes-closed.

 

*

people you tried to take care of

can just destroy you with two hands:

one, so open, watching you stray

the other is perfume-scented

because all the while you thought that 

perfume is from real flowers.

 

*

dear tatay,

thank you for teaching me to never go back home

crying when i was child.

yesterday, i learned how to do it

for you.

 

_

i asked my sister to draw three toes

on a paper:

she gave me three different sheets

with the same 

foot.

 

+

if a past relationship

digs the ground, gives  death a mouth to mouth,

male ego and nostalgia must not be 

your excuse in many cases.

death, still,

in any case,

a thief.

 

^ 

if i could brag about a talent,
it would have to be 
converting pain/trauma/anger
to literary libido
 
you and me,
we’re a beautiful chaos in bed
your inches know no door
between my lips and my slice.
 
#
all i stay here for 
is for the following:
 
-those who wish me happiness
-those who stop me from being happy
 
 
 
\
 
 
 
 
 
.
 

 

Posted by modernpatadyong at 20:07:00 | permalink

Previous Comments

I love the play of words here! I’ll be back for more lovely posts like this! :)

Posted by khaye at December 3, 2008, 12:27 pm

When will you stop giving me breathlessness? :) If only I could pay you to write me love letters, hahaha! Seriously, you are the best Filipina contemporary poet!

Posted by blu at December 3, 2008, 7:49 pm

you and me,
we’re a beautiful chaos in bed
your inches know no door
between my lips and my slice.

I always wonder how you live your words. Diin ka sa Iloilo? Ka office ka dati sa akong brother. any idea?

Posted by M at December 9, 2008, 12:35 am

@khaye: coming from you, i am humbled. :)
@blu: kuging ka gid nong. thank you daan sa regalo gali ha. huya man ko ba. :)

Posted by modernpatadyong at December 9, 2008, 11:59 am

@M: they are just words mig. Kay sin-o ka utod? taga barotac viejo gid ako.

Posted by modernpatadyong at December 9, 2008, 12:00 pm

nice and so deep words! very interesting.

Posted by eli at December 12, 2008, 11:38 am