Melancholia

Words, 
you invited me 
to come to you 
like a cup of coffee
on a rainy afternoon. 

I sipped
and you slipped
like a thief
leaving not a trace
but the sweetness
in my lips.

Awit ni Canuplin

Sa hirap at sa ginhawa
Ako'y iyong kasama
Bituing mapagpala ang gagabay sa 'ting dalawa
At kahit na malayo pa o maglaho ang sinag
Ako'y tapat sa'yo, kaibigan ko't kadaup-palad

Tayo nang gumaod sa bangka
At damhin ang tubig sa mukha
Lasapin ang simoy ng hangin
Magpahanggang-libing
Magpahanggang-libing

Ipaghehele tayo ng lagaslas ng mga alon
Iduduyan sa ihip ng hanging dagat
At tatanglawan ng mga bituing
Mapagpala sa langit
Haharapin natin ang mahabang gabi.


Canuplin (Philippine Educational Theater Association, 1980)

Kakawati

Kukuguson ko an payat mong lawas

sa tahaw nin nagdadagusong tubig.

Dai taka bubutasan sagkod

ika mabari asin atungon kaibahan ko.

Magkaibahan kitang mapataw-pataw

sa irarom kan maitom na panganoron,

mantang hinahalat na maghupa an baha.

Inistorya ko saimo
an sakong mga pangiturugan.

Asin sinabi mo sakuya,

"Kun ako man mawara asin

maatong asin maitanom sa sa dai bistadong daga.

Lugod maromdoman mo man giraray

an sakong mga burak."


**********************

Yayakapin ko ang payat mong katawan
sa gitna ng rumaragasang tubig.
Hindi ako sa'yo bibitaw hanggang
ika'y mabali't anurin kasama ko.

Magkasama tayong lulutang-lutang
sa ilalim ng madilim na langit
habang hinihintay ang bumabaw ang baha.

Ikuwinento ko sa iyo
ang aking mga panaginip.

at sinabi mo sa'kin,
"Kung ako'y mawala't
anurin at maitanim sa di kilalang lupa,
nawa'y maalala mo pa ring
ang aking mga bulaklak."

doppelganger

Wag mo siyang hanapin sa kanya. Hindi na siya babalik. Hindi na.

To thy future self

All my little plans and schemes
lost like some forgotten dream.
Seems like all i really was doing 
was waiting for you.
(Real Love, John Lennon)


***


bahala ka na. bobo ako ngayon. 

Ang hindi darating

Ituring na parang hangin na walang gagawing pagdampi o pagsalat. 
Hinihinga pero 'di masasamyo. 
Kawalang minsang hinahawakan ng panaginip.

The art and the soul

"My gallery?" She leaned back on the window ledge, causing the curtains to sway behind her, and took a slow breath. "My gallery. You must mean my collection. All those paintings, poems, all those things of yours I gathered over the years. It was hard work for me, but I believed in it, we all did in those days. So you think you know what it was for, why we did it. Well, that would be most interesting to hear. Because I have to say, it's a question I ask myself all the time." She suddenly switched her gaze from Tommy to me. "Do I go too far?" she asked.
I didn't know what to say, so just replied: "No, no."
"I go too far," she said. "I'm sorry. I often go too far on this subject. Forget what I just said. Young man, you were going to tell me about my gallery. Please, let me hear."
"It's so you could tell," Tommy said. "So you'd have something to go on. Otherwise how would you know when students came to you and said they were in love?"
Madame's gaze had drifted over to me again, but I had the feeling she was staring at something on my arm. I actually looked down to see if there was birdshit or something on my sleeve. Then I heard her say: "And this is why you think I gathered all those things of yours. My gallery, as all of you always called it. I laughed when I first heard that's what you were calling it. But in time, I too came to think of it as that. My gallery. Now why, young man, explain it to me. Why would my gallery help in telling which of you were really in love?"
"Because it would help show you what we were like," Tommy said. "Because..."
"Because of course"--Madame cut in suddenly--"your art will reveal your inner selves! That's it, isn't it? Because your art will display your souls!" Then suddenly she turned to me again and said: "I go too far?"
She'd said this before, and I again had the impression she was staring at a spot on my sleeve. But by this point a faint suspicion I'd had ever since the first time she'd asked "I go too far?" had started to grow. I looked at Madame carefully, but she seemed to sense my scrutiny and she turned back to Tommy.
"All right," she said. "Let us continue. What was it you were telling me?"
"The trouble is," Tommy said, "I was a bit mixed up in those days."
"You were saying something about your art. How art bares the soul of the artist."
"Well, what I'm trying to say," Tommy persisted, "is that I was so mixed up in those days, I didn't really do any art. I didn't do anything. I know now I should have done, but I was mixed up. So you haven't got anything of mine in your gallery. I know that's my fault, and I know it's probably way too late, but I've brought some things with me now." He raised his bag, then began to unzip it. "Some of it was done recently, but some of it's from quite a long time ago. You should have Kath's stuff already. She got plenty into the Gallery. Didn't you, Kath?"
For a moment they were both looking at me. Then Madame said, barely audibly: "Poor creatures. What did we do to you? With all our schemes and plans?" She let that hang, and I thought I could see tears in her eyes again. Then she turned to me and asked: "Do we continue with this talk? You wish to go on?"


(From Capter 21, Never Let Me Go, Kazuo Ishiguro)


What if, after all, we're all just a product of an accident? I cannot just be happy to think that we should just be simply happy that after all it was just after all.

Insomia

NO SURPRISES
Radiohead


A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
You look so tired and unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us
I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
Silent, silent
This is my final fit, my final bellyache with

No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises
No alarms and no surprises please
Such a pretty house, and such a pretty garden

No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises (let me out of here)
No alarms and no surprises please (let me out of here)



***



I don't know why I so love this song. Maybe I was so stunned that I feel that I need a break from the roller coaster of surprises and shits that happen to me. I want a break from the monotonous chaos I am into--meeting people, trusting them, accepting them, believing in them and totally screwing it all up. I'm tired of bullshits. 

Okay. I need a smoke. Cigarettes and earphones they are true friends. Alcohol? though I've been trying to avoid you, I miss you. No one can tame me, except you. 

I can't sleep. Caffeine overload. Coffee, you're only a passing addiction. It must be my GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disorder) that prevents me from "making love" with you again. You gave me sleepless nights.   

byahe

Naglalanit an kublit kan naglalanat na aki,
kinukudot kan paros an saiyang lubot,
dai pagparaisipon ta baad biyo pang magngarangaw
an subago pa napupurisaw.