*
why firefly?
is it only because they appear at night?
no.
is it because they die the next morning?
no.
it’s because no matter how old i become, i always find them magical. like you.
why kite?
is it because of that song? hehe. it was raining that evening.
no.
it’s just i used to see you fly and then people we’re pointing up, up where you are.
then one day, i saw you lying on the grass.
♥
♥
i paid for the destination this morning but getting off the bus and setting foot on a random shore
is like finding a kind of friendship that i see in blues and hues that could be very delusional for mankind.
ah ugly places,
there, i found beautiful people.
but one day, i saw you in the field below. all these years, i never thought there is someone else
there,
waiting for the same shooting stars.
concepcion, iloilo
i named clouds after nora, leonila
kuj,kinoi,kakai,kawen
aninipot
gahgah
and shannen.
.
*
SINGGIT SIRKULO sang PAMATAN-ON
Sabado Sponsor: Lio Loco
sib aninipot and the kids. hawak kamay. =)
(look at jingjing doing his brand of rak en rol \m/)
SINGGIT President Helman, asking them about their dreams
Vice President Peklay singing Bahay-Kubo with half-Jap Sakura
Jason, Mart Mart, Jing and their drawings of home, superman and mountains
the little malipayong girls with Tonton
“manong jeb, drowingi ko spiderman”
“don’t be shy. everything you draw there.is beautiful.”
the skies were grey but seeing them smile,
made a difference
and it was a beautiful morning,
hearing their hearts
doing those little shouts, when we asked:
“ti nalipay man kamo kay nagkadto kami diri?”
HUO,
HUO GID.
.
*
today, i woke up with a gunshot
from the land of dreams and swaying paperdolls
from the ceiling… because of this at 5:36am
and because of the realization that
i can also give up
really give up on people.
“i am so sorry, i hope you are awake.
im in this bus on my way to your hometown. i just want to see you now more than ever.
but if you want me to go back, i’d do it.”
after nearly a year,
he looked at his greatest.
his t-shirt proved that he was there in places i used to long for.
“can i have your handkerchief, i have terrible flu.”
so i sneezed terribly hard, with all those
deafening effect in my eardrums.
“i can’t start. i can’t move on. i have been sleepless these past few nights.
i just want to wander around with no direction, im lost.”
i bit the morning burger,
it tasted like the 5-sec gargle i did today
“you’re just sad. we do stupid things when we are sad.”
“you’re just telling me that because you have moved on, because you are stronger”
“i earned this. if for the past years, i have swallowed my whole self too much for people i choose to keep, not this time.”
he was an anchor,
but the coast was slimy
and the ship was overloaded
“why are you too cold? too insensitive? your words are too shallow now.”
”im sorry but thank you, you answer half of the agony
that has been at war inside me.”
“i ask for nothing, i just want to see you.”
the morning cold swept the crystals, ready to jump from his eyelids,
like firemen from a burning asylum
and when they finally fell
i shared my cold left had to his warm right,
“do this for your self. there is a girl waiting for you and she’s been there. you told me about her last time and i knew you and her would be great.
do this for your self. your parents are in an island and your sister got nice hair. and me, im better off this way.”
“actually, the moment i saw you standing there, your face looked at peace with the highway.”
“yes.”
and so i pulled his arm and asked him to choose sweat shirts and
board shorts for me, in the ukay-ukay
where stories pile on a long bamboo table
and every shirtless man whores that
black shirt
which might have been thrown by a girl
who pledged to build a wall
this cold time of the year
and one, day she will smash her body
against it, like bottles of oil
and sand.
i bid him goodbye
and like a fog, the wheels curled and got lost
like everything else i used to wake-up to
at night.
.
*
she has been ignoring messages ,
calls ,
and knocks on the door
but some yester years are like
taste of blood
when you wake up at 5am
and you brush your teeth
\
kakai: nang, why does the moon follow me
wherever i go?
nang t: i used to ask nanay about that too
kakai: is the answer science-related?
nang t: *smiles*
kakai: haha, i bet you’d tell me “no, it’s art”
(yes it can be just like sleep, letting go and healing)
+
things i’d tell/ask/goof my daughter about:
@1: “naaaa-naaaay”
@3: “dance and you’ll wear your shoes”
@6: “don’t tease her baboy”
@9: “clap your hands for them”
@12: “he is crushing on you because you are beautiful.”
@18: “if you can’t be good, be careful”
@19: “don’t hold the bottle above your cleavage in a bar.”
@20: “how was your favorite kiss with a non-boyfriend?”
@21: “live your life. let’s drink sometime. wear laces, who knows.”
@22: “nah, she hates you because you flaunt her flaws with much grace and style.”
@22: “if you get your self pregnant, that makes me the coolest lola.”
@23: “why haven’t you tried masturbating?”
@23: “don’t lock the knob, the world needs you more than you can imagine.”
@24: “i wrote about you when i was 24 and it was vaginal. haha.”
-
if i could get that girl publish her poetry
the world would change
-kurt cobain on courtney love-
^
“I have seen her grow as a writer and begin to realize it is what she is made to do. She is an Alice Walker gun and you really really want to shoot someone with it.”
(Heather Bell)
#
taste of phlegm
smell of phlegm
we all pass this life sweeping the cave
with cobwebs in-between
our fingers
spit or swallow?
~
include a bio please
re: i am so sorry i don’t know how to describe my self
but i hope this would be fine
_
the windchimes
have not been singing
this place has been so cold
and the karpinteros
started to rock the ceiling
with their own brand of violin.
.
*
been meeting the morning sky outside a bamboo coffee haus
been having kape with the smell of instant noodles and the sound of movies
from tables where tryke drivers start their day and hospital security guards smoke.
will be celebrating Saturdays. SINGGIT officers have plotted our schedule of Ako, Manunudlo sa Sabado.
will be visiting each purok and barrio, teach kids and give them the time to dream, be their most willing audience
and welcome more members.
will be holding poem writing and essay writing contests: BVNHS, ROVCMS, STI, NIPSC-BVC, SPED
wil be co-organizing a battle of the bands that will feature compositions about the youth
will be having seminar-workshops for performing arts, writing, visual arts, music and more.
will be listeninga lot
and shouting more in many forms without having to ruin the larynx.
(singgit officers regular meeting)
been asked to write songs for aninipot, ermanyik
and marfiang
melancholia. death metal. love song.
will be growing ribs outside my body because i have to.
.
*
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.
*
---
---
and this. a proof that:
how you see LIFE is how
you actually see YOUR self.
*
*
***
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-
