A scream from dead silence begotten
Rushed through the curtains of your lips
And raced across the bounds of time
Blood from my past now gently drips

Forlorn, you lay, beneath this earth
How long oh did I mourn for you
And born you were out of the sky
The sky that I left torn for you

Now hear do I your sweetest scream
My eyes, indeed, are pouring out
But dead you lay, my oldest friend
How can your voice be heard about?

I've heard of time's illusions oft
That death is but a trick of life
So neatly wound, a set of dreams
And sounds of truth, in set of lies

Does sense deceive; perception betray?
Does God play evil games with man?
Do I see your face in distant light?
Or a trick played by the devil's hand?

I place my hand on shuddering heart
You are no more, but still you are
Reaching out from a time bygone
I sense you close, but much too far

Things that made no hope
hopeless places you have been
hope isn't remembered unless it ends in happiness

Are you remembered by a name on a building
do you remember the names of the people that you so longed to be with
you remember the people that smile at your soul and make you smile back

Do you remember the actions that cause the least amount of pain
do you remember the drunk parties with the people you can't call friends
you remember the things that cause the most pain for a great gain

do you remember the hope you have another
do you remember the people that fight for us to live like ve slive
do you remember the stars on the darkest of nights in your life
do you remember what you have done in God's name?

The Speakers for the Dead raise their head
and speak softly and measuredly
So to be better heeded
And so to ensure that the dead can be heard.

The Speakers for the Dead dress modestly
Not drawing attention to themselves
So that the living listening can focus
And so to ensure that the dead can be heard.

The Speakers for the Dead inform themselves
Of all aspects of the life of the dead
So not to drift into speculation
And so to ensure that the dead can be heard.

The Speakers for the Dead aqaint themselves
With local language and idiom
So no misunderstanding should arise
And so to ensure that the dead can be heard.

The Speakers for the Dead
Ensure that we can be heard
By the living and the deaf
And so to ensure that the dead can be answered.

I remember a time far away, where I held the hand of someone long gone.

I remember laughter and jeering words at light-hearted expense.

I remember the warmth of a summer breeze doing nothing to cool me off.

I remember braiding her hair, and braiding his.

And I can't help but to think: would it be any different now, would I be any different, if any of you stuck around?

I don't blame you.

I'll never blame you.

But I'm fearful of losing one more,
The same way I lost the five of you.

Listening to Hawthorne Heights leaves me all choked up.

There's a story here somewhere,
And sooner or later the man I want to marry
Will need to hear it.

Today isn't that day,
But August has always been tough for me,
About nine years ago we said goodbye without words,
Because you never liked goodbyes.
You felt they meant forgetting,
But you ******* idiot,
I'd never forget you, any of you.

Two years ago,
Two weeks from now,
I tried to disappear
Into nothing.
Claiming being burdensome
Wasn't the life for me.

I'm so glad I'm still around. I'm so glad I love who I love and that he loves me.

But I'd be lying to myself if I said there wasn't a part of me that's scared of losing what I have.

In the car
you felt awkward with
bobbed veiled eyes,
squished in,
a neighbour insisted lift.
Their Language was
Course
Throaty
chiming with gold.

You had rationed bread then,
it was women’s only
and when one was
touched askew,
they took her away
from there.

That time of servitude,
5am Dettol, peeling skin,
when your man would
be home waiting to
kiss them Better.
You were glowing and
not alone.

You lent me a book,
frayed edges with
bi-carb knowledge &
I was surprised
that it worked,
as I didn’t know much.

A cache of
pyramid pictures,
Wet mirrored smiles
as they looked down upon us,
with the man reflected
gone
but
kindly enough.

Dragging your feet,
talk time for hours, when
your upward chin
would float above your
throbbing knees,
no grievances at all.

Decibels rose
like the formidable
stone wall
that was still protecting you,
and the laughter you brought
to me was…
thank you.

My practice called and so
I beckoned,
but you whispered
to me somewhere -
with a single
guidance,
to come back.

A sunny day,
a set of white teeth,
was all you could see,
morphine soaked back
against green
struck trees.

Naïve glass
between you and I,
a rose card
with plush material
on the front,
it was
the most expensive one.

Blame that left me
misaligned against a rail,
peeking through
the parts that felt,
coldly
wrong.

Licked and waiting,
useless,
I didn’t know how
to release your
generous sentient
from mine.

Graceful and soft without
life's judgement,
it has locked within me
and remains,
like a warm
forgiving light.

It has been a year.
Instead of forgetting you,
I've spent my time waiting for the day
you'll change your mind.

People asked me if
I've already moved on, and I knew
I've moved backwards.
Back to the time we were together.

I still miss you.
I still long for your kisses.
I still dream of Saturday afternoons.
I still wish for Sunday mornings,
of evening meals together,
of motorcycle rides to the countryside.

**I am still here.
My poetry is my witness.

do you ever feel a sadness for something you never knew—
a mourning, a longing, a rage?

in these moments the swell of injustice burns in my stomach,
rises up my lungs.

but when have we ever had what we should have.
when have we ever been taught what we needed.
when have we ever been given what belonged to us.

no: instead,
there has always had to be a longer process,
a remembrance of memories we have never known,
an unlearning.
we have always had to dig deep inside of us
and in doing so,
realize that the truth of who we are has been long buried,

(but never less worth the fight).

070616 #ElNido #BHouse #JGH

May gusot sa kalendaryo ng puso,
Kaya't muli kong binalikan ang eksaktong petsa.
May punit ang pahina,
Kaya't kumuha ako ng pandikit
Para sa may lamat na larawan.

Taong dalawang libo't labing-apat,
Nalalabi ang oras sa libingan.
Hinukay ko sa'king memorya,
Baka sakaling ang ugat ay may nutrisyon na.

Dinampian ko ang sarili ng panyong maputi,
Sigurado akong hindi na mamantsyahan pa.
Pero pagsilip ko'y may misteryong bumalandra,
Ngalan mo'y nakaukit pa rin pala sa tadhana.

Draw into the hope of a missing river,
Forever forgetting forever isn't for everyone.
I wish I had another choice in the city full of choices,
I wish I had another city in the world full of cities.
I see these cities as see through seas untamed by those who see me as an uncalmable tide.
At the midnight calling, I become uncontrollable.
Like the statue, I collect and decay through natural forces,
Like the status,
I force nature to collect and decay.
Poetic justice,
No this just is poetic.
Moments put into words that give rise to the false trigger of five senses that the consensus claims can't be sensed through anything but reality.
The dream through words escapes the world in which limits are locked to five senses.
Nonsense to university,
No sense to individuality.
This creates the individual.
And their spirit lives in the flow of the Phoenix song,
Lamented in the night air.