can it be possible that God in all his mighty,
when he created men,
did not know that turning dirt to flesh,
could corrupt the soul?

Could it be possible that God in all his mighty,
did not know that dirt can contaminate?
or did he know, but hoped, no I mean,
did he have faith that man can become clean?

Or is it possible that the soul is a moving river,
some oasis, or moving water,
that should remain in constant motion,
to remain clean? or become clean?

Could it be that since our birth, our soul,
this river, starts losing it's current,
and thus, we end up drying up,
becoming more like what we were, dirt,
and nothing else?

But then,
how can our souls remain in constant movement?
How can this river continue growing?
Is it through pain? Is it through tears?
Or could it be, that through our tears
we can reflect in them and find ourselves?
As if those tears were raindrops, falling
one on one, then forming this river,
that keeps on growing to reflect ourselves?

Could it be?

Our love were weeds just growing strong with time
In fields that people often dare not walked.
Therefore, we lasted long, our love survived.
In fields that people then began to watch.

Our love then grew with winds that changed our life
As squalls began to break our stems in halves
Therefore, we lasted short, our love then died
when roots became uprooted off the ground
In fields that people then begin to walk.

fireflies in the sky
as night time falls with a kiss
lovers in the park

I wandered barrels in between my tongue
tripping over words,
as if I tip toed to reach the clock,
then crack, hearing the wooden floor,
I cringed then ran,
to the kitchen screaming to speak more.

I try to stretch my thoughts
like mozzarella in a grill
but all I end up with
is with a burnt cheese

a fish, a dish so delish I relish to eat
with chips with chips
so salty so rich

So now, a fish I wish to fish
To eat demolish in bliss

You do not love me
I know you do not
For love is a fire that does not burn

Here I am cold
freezing in agony
freezing
and getting burnt

I’m just charcoal
completely gone

Having faith does not mean to not question or to not have doubt

Having faith is questioning and doubting but still remain certain that despite the odds everything will turn alright

Having faith is like having a pillar by your side in which you can recline to watch how things will turn out after you have done whatever best you could.

Having faith is trusting God will help you but also trusting in your own self to help yourself for God said "help yourself that I will help you."

Words, they are just letters,
and letters are just points,
and points are just numbers,
and numbers are...


Well, numbers are numbers.

Though words are really just letters,
and these letters are just points,
points combined in a sequence
sequence that gives a shape
shape that could indicate a location
location that is found by coordinates
coordinates that are just numbers,

Dark night
where the moon often hides amidst the clouds
and the stars are distant so far away from our sight
Tell me, how do you feel tonight?

how do you feel by knowing many fear to walk
the streets when you are the only company they got?



Dark night
this is something you must know,
When I see you, I grab a flashlight or some lamp
I’m not scared of you per se
I’m afraid I would tumble down the road with the first rock that gets in my way

Dark night
With your presence, you blind me so
I become so blind that I need to rely in the senses that I usually don’t

if I were a boat
sailing alone in the ocean blue
I might sink
right under the bright moon
but if I were that boat
sailing a castaway into safe landing
I would float
regardless of how broken
I may be

Worry less by
Thinking less about the things you must do
Just do them, then think more
about things that help you understand
what matters in life
and what not

She was herself like some kind of bookshelf
which held hundreds books that no one read
One of those books
had pictures of seas with mountains of trees
that no one dare see
and in those trees were roses of bones
dripping cold blood into her veins

if the sun ceases to warm me up
and the AC functions no more
Some tequila shots will do the work
at least till it heats up my soul

Me
And words
Don't get along

We are like cats and dogs
Or rather like water and oil
Mixing up
A lot of times
Not very well

I may stationed in my dreams,
seeing the past pass by,
And reality collide into memories
that I have yet to live

That's what it seems

You were like an eye lash stuck in my eye,
I felt you there, but I could not see you,
I always cried but I didn't know why,
You bothered me, and hurt me,
But I pretended nothing was there,
So I rubbed my eye until the tears faded.

a green leaf
houses dews
like rivers

You know when you do the right thing
And the thing turns to be wrong
But then it would have been wrong
If you had not done the right thing, anyways!

Well, I really don't know what went wrong.

Everyday, every night,
when the sun or the moon is out
I think about you, mom and dad

Whether the weather surprises us
with a cool and refreshing breeze,
with hail or tornados
With hurricanes or God knows what
I think about you, mom and dad

Whether I’m healthy or sick
whether I’m awake or asleep
I think about you
I think about you all the time

Wander wander lost
without a place to go
always searching,
never finding
what you are looking for

Within the truth lies a truth so truthful
that lies cannot lie about

Stop! Don’t give any step forward.

I’m like a loaded gun tossed on the ground
ready for someone to pull the trigger

Proceed with caution.

I know. I feel it.
I am no pristine water but
neither I am a muddy one
my waters are clear enough to see through
and safe enough to drink from
Yet for reasons unbeknownst to me
you try so hard to be the rocks that swim in me
despite the fact that my waters
keep on carrying you to the shores
away and away from me

don’t you seee?
as a rock
you keep on stirring waves in me
and these waves keep on pushing you
further and further away

tomorrow a flower grows
in fields of sorrow, like an anchor that goes
where the wind blows

Love,

Call me today, tomorrow, or the next one
Call me in a week, a month, or a year
I'll wait,
But call me.

I'll be a telephone line, a wire to your voice, a speaker in your cellphone,

I'll be.

I'll be just waiting for a dial. Then  if I find it. I'll be just waiting for you to dial: the numbers in my heart, the combinations that makes this connections connects us both, so I may listen to your voice without you saying a single word....

But call me

Love.

Sometimes you wonder
what it feels like to kiss

And you want to kiss the world goodbye
And you want to kiss everyone good bye
But you know deep down
That that's not what you want
You know deep down that a kiss is sacred
And that your lips are only meant to kiss

Not death

But life

Do you find the light too bright?
Even though, it's midnight?
Can you see how brigh it shines?
Up above in the starry sky?

I have seen the road to Mars
As I sat upon a car
I could see how far away
those stars led the way

There are planets like some trees
that grow, and grow, so green!
And that make the universe
look youthful and serene.

There are other planets too
that become like a bomb
that tick and tock
like time often does

As if time was
trapped inside a clock
- just tick and tock --
Hammering with rhythm
Non-stop.
To break the lock
To free Himself,
with no apparent luck.

But every tick
And every tock
It can be heard by People
Who stick
their ears
to the clock
Just following the rhythm
Not knowing how free
Their time
Without making it explode!

All I know is that when depression slaps me,
It slaps me hard.
Yet I just turn the other cheek around,
Until it slaps me one more time,
Then I slap it back,
Twice as hard, just to knock it out.
To Leave it unconscious for a while.

I want to sip and sip from the wine of knowledge
And be drunk without worries
But I rather just want to sip and sip from the water of wisdom
And remain sober,
Until I become purify
Until I satiate my thirst to understand life
Until I feel hydrated with joy
Until I feel alive

Oh COVID,
You made me mask my shyness
And forced me to raise my voice
Now every so often I have a sore throat

This makes me feel like you have made
a home out in my body

It’s seems that that’s effect you have on people
You are so contagious, that even those
who do not have you, think
That they may have you as an unwanted guest
Wrecking havoc in their lungs,

Throat

*cough

Poetry

I’m sorry
(I haven’t been completely honest with you)
My heart beats with ache despite my constant attempts at looking at situations with optimism. Don’t get me wrong, I do not struggle nor pretend to be optimistic. It comes natural to someone who always sees the negative in every aspect of life yet refuses to be surrounded by an abyss of negativity. Thinking negative at least for me usually reduces heartache. There’s less expecting and more accepting. Especially, there’s more happiness if nothing went the way it was ... well, expected. I mean, sure thinking negative gives some kind of expectative but also a positive surprised if what was expected didn’t come true.
Anyways, poetry
Lately, I have been enjoying looking at An empty page. There’s much I would like to write, I can feel it in me but there’s much that I do not want to know. I’m in denial. I refuse to find out what my feelings are. And it’s because of that that I feel like I’m cheating you. And it hurts.

An ignorant man knows how ignorant he is
only when he knows he knows nothing
otherwise he is ignorant of how ignorant he is.
Yet an ignorant man who knows how ignorant he is,
In itself, cannot be, just an ignorant man.

I cry! Oh cry on arms so warm
on limbs that pull me up but also
push me down
I cry! Oh cry on eyes so blind
on ears so deaf
on lips so mute
to me
to me

I’m tired of empathizing
It only gets you hurt

Empathizing turns you into a balance
where you carry everyone’s weight
including your own

So if you are not strong
everyone’s weight pulls you
down

six feet under

if you are not careful enough

I long for the day, education would be free
Where studying is not an obligation
But a passion to know about our world
Where hunger is a forgotten word
amid our stomachs
But not amid our souls

I long of the day, when starvation would
**** no one but the spirits of evil doers
To be reborn
Into a world
Where those who work work:
As a means of filling up their spiritual void,
of giving their time to our world,
of Passing up time for the sake of protecting those
who would decide to live a normal life,

But also
As a means of getting closer to God.

She said, “randomness is non-existent, right?????”

I replied while quizzically looking at her, “I supposed...”

Then she went on to say:

When I was at the bus stop, I looked at the blue sky, and suddenly, birds were flying into my mind, but there were no birds in the sky. There were only clouds, and these clouds, were shaping my thoughts and the way I experienced my reality.

Anyways, while observing these birds flapping their wings, I saw feathers rain upon the sidewalk. These feathers tickled my senses to the point that laughter took a hold of me and made me sputter nonsense to the guy who sat beside me. Eventually, he looked at me soaked in bewilderment, and subsequently, ran to the next bus stop to dry himself out of the fear I had drenched on him. Meanwhile, the feathers gather together in ponds, and a small child who stood silently behind me, jumped to Splish-splash them upon the air. Everyone around him got wet in amazement. Their eyes wide-opened while their mouths wowed as the child in the spur of the moment looked as if he grew wings to fly towards his mom who just minutes ago had called him, “Angel!”.

Sigh she took a deep breathe then whispered in a excited tone, “it was a magnificent sight.”

I looked at her puzzled and when I was about to utter a word, she looked at me attentively as if inspecting every hair on my head then she went to ask again:

“Randomness is nonexistent, right????”

for all the years I wasted living in fear
I try to find the courage in those I hold dear
So I no longer waste anymore years

If in order to create, one must destroy,
Then what did God destroyed,
In order to create us?

I thought about the waves
And how they rose -up -down -forth- and -back
And then they were known as tides

those waves
those waves
those waves

Just known with different names

Those waves
Those waves

everything seems to come from the same source

In this case

Those waves

a woman at church
with rosary in hands lights the room
like votive candles

Just like that, within a breeze,
the winds that swayed my thoughts for you,
stopped blowing
and my thoughts finally ceased to sway
for you for the first time

at midnight
a blanket
full of stars
cover sky
while the sun
takes a break

It pours! It pours!
into this little lagoon
just look at the waves
to tides being born
just look at the turbulence
under the light of the moon

this little lagoon
is a sea of hurt
with nothing to lose

like an earring in your earlobe,
my thoughts hung,
Pendulating back and forth,
Trying to whisper in your ears
"Come-hither my love"

but ah too fierce was your walk,
And my thoughts,
Pendulated back and forth timidly,,
That I just hung
Like that earring in your earlobe.

I threw letters at a sheet of paper
as if they were darts
aiming towards the center of the readers heart
But I never had a good aim

All the letters targeted my heart.

To be your arms, and feel your warm.
To be your body, and feel you whole,
I may want, I may want, or I may not

for if I'm your arms, then I would feel how you feel
when you touch her and not me
For if I'm your body, then I would feel how you feel,
but not, how you feel about me.

For then I would be you and I won't be me.
For then you nor I would exists.

My eyes, a see-through window
full of smudges,
Light can barely pass through them,
It's hard to see in and out.
Though people still stand in front of them: waving as if trying to clear the smudges with their hands
But all I see are their intentions becoming more blur :(

To be your blanket and your bed of dreams,
To be your pillow, the one you could embrace,
it's not what I wish to be
But to be the lover in your life:
The one you could embrace,
The one that could embrace you as well,
That's what I wish to be
Yet to be a lover in your life:
I first need to approach you in the streets,
Or wherever the place that you may be at