Ripples

–like love, spread it out..

Fall

Remorse never came.
I watch these
Tips and strands fall..
A memory of a year
That belongs to
Her..
Of changes
And longings unseen before.
I never thought it was
Or will pass for sometime..
But it should.
The clock won’t stop
It has been there before I, and
Running for me,
for all, until maybe
eternity.
I should quit waiting;
Go on.
Hold on somewhere
And let the leaves fly.

in Secrecy

a smile in reply

something like Monalisa’s

they won’t know

reveal, discover, try

its mystery lies

at the back of her mind

no one will know

history can’t write

and so she’ll carry it

until she dies…

Notepad

Let me sing you
A song,
Of melodies
And aches..

Let me show
You lines,
And shapes;
The infinity,
Curves,
And the broken..

Let me tell you
Stories;
Of things unknown,
Of places unvisited
Of voices unheard,
Of emotions unspoken
And dreams chased..
Let me write to you
Solely..

That you may know
Who I am
And who you are..

a Cup of Memory

I’ve been stirring my coffee for a minute now, I guess. Every time I get here at our office pantry and make one cup of this caffeine, I always get lost. I mean, stirring, stirring, and stirring until sometimes, office mates would tell me like, “Hey, what’s with your coffee? Are you stirring it to get it cold? You might want to put ice?” I am really lost to somewhere else, to those times wherein someone would order me to make coffee served with anything – cookies, biscuits, bread and even breakfast meal or other meal of the day depends on what time he arrives for a visit. Yes, he wasn’t part of the household but he’s one of the foundations. He’s my lolo. It was always a scene at our house’s window where he shows up and putting there down bottles of pickled chili or live chicken. When he sits down, it follows that he orders coffee and food. Accustomed to it, I know how his coffee tastes – black, little sugar. It was a frequent (almost every week or once in half-month) visit.

It was. That was why may be after three weeks of not coming made me wonder. Every time I arrive at home from a weekly boarding for school, I ask about him but they said he won’t come. They told me he was under medication with my aunt accompanying him. I didn’t know what he had until one Wednesday, my mother texted me that they were in the hospital. He was already in a comatose. The following day while I was in the class, actively participating in the games, I received a neighbor’s message and it reads, “Wala na si lolo mo (Your grandfather is gone.)”. Unnoticed, I cried at the corner of the room. I went home Friday and I saw him there lying on his wooden bed. It was a painful truth how he had gone too soon because at those few weeks, my mother’s side of family just started untangling things of whatever disputes they have . If there was something good that happened with his absence, the family’s relationship had gone better. I know he is happy with that wherever he is.

His life might not be a perfect blend like his coffee, sometimes the sugar was more or less but I know that right from that moment he bid goodbye, God had already perfected it in heaven. I love you Lo!

***in memory of my Lolo Constancio, may he be happy now wherever he is

Ever

Stars lit the darkest sky
Deafening crickets in my ear
Here’s a love sitting next to you..
***

To her –
She’s gone but still, I feel her selfless love flowing in my veins.
I miss you Nang.

Home

To a divided race
where no one stands
and nothing seems right..

In a chaos of tears and fears
Amidst bullets and bombs;
He’s stretching His arms
to you –
all weary, all torn.

“Come here,” He says.

Get on your knees,
Run!
He will meet you
halfway.

Humanity may have failed there
but,
have faith,
have hope..
’cause soon, so soon,

You’ll reach home.

****

They may not be able to reach us to take some brotherly shelter but we are one  with them in prayers to our Almighty Savior and our God (even if we call Him differently). We pray that these things come to end. And may peace reign again. +

Her Verses

It was never easy containing.

It was never easy forgetting.

It will never be.

So she wrote them all in black ink

and keystrokes –

unchangeable fragments of her.

Summit

On the road way home

I saw you

Your greenery

And your heights..

I was lifting my head

To the left in awe.

I couldn’t help staring

Your magnetic mystery

I wish to see more

Be in my hiking suit

Climb your sides

And to your summit

I will be the first

One brave soul you met.

Okay, back in my bus – –

It was a dream,

I just passed by

Round and around,

Surrounded

I didn’t stop

I just watched you

So near yet so far

I couldn’t let my feet on

I was meant to be a traveler,

In your sight

I was gone.