Oblivisci

I've been meaning to ask
you: have you forgotten
all about us? It's been a 
lot of days, weeks, months--
oh, I can go on. Do you 
remember how you used
to prefer cutting my finger-
nails for me? You always
loved the short, cut grass better
than tall, wild grass. I never really have
figured out why. You were weird.
But I had loved you anyway. I 
remember how we always
slept in buses; we avoided
small talk almost always. On 
my sixteenth birthday, you 
cooked some eggs for me;
then when you brought it
to me, you slipped. The eggs 
fell to the earth. You frowned.
But I also had a surprise for 
you that day: I adopted a small,
black and white puppy.You
loved him so much I had to 
remind you that it was my 
birthday. So you told me that
I should name him. But you
had to name him Jon Snow.

I missed that.

Sometimes, I wonder if you've
dated more boys than the days 
Jon Snow had lived. 

Never mind. Well, I hope you
get this message one way or
another. I graduated an honoree
from this big-big college; I know
you'd be happy if we'd been 
together back then. After that,
I went to work as a manager
for this security firm in 
Ortigas. It was all new for me.
One night, I had to stay in 
my office so late. I ended up
dozing off so they fired me. No
big deal. In a few days, I got
myself another reek of a job.

I worked as this call center
agent in this logistics company.
I met someone there. She would be 
my wife. We often had dinner
since we both worked late more often 
than not. Yeah, and eventually we got
hitched. Not that many years ago. 
Well, in that continuum, as you would
always say--well in between then and now--
we had two healthy kids. Weirdly,
my wife named my first child, a boy,
Jonas. I miss that stupid puppy. So
she preferred that I name my newborn
girl. 

Well, Diana, I always did love your
name. Won't you look at her? Hey, I 
brought her here; you should be happy. 
She's four months old, Diana. Yes, don't 
worry, I'll take her here occasionally.
My little Diana might also learn to
love the short, cut grass. Yes, I will tell 
her not to sit on your headstone.

Multam Aquam

splashing    water,
no, not         water

a splash of blood 
turned my stomach.
             My blood in 
my   stomach.

I stand as a 
   witness to
horrible       things.
Things     no     man
can                    imagine.

I knew not
         what 
       I was in 
for:
I was deaf
I was blind
I was weak.
    I felt not;



A splash of blood,
        no, not blood,



splashing water
                 in my streams
interconnected
                 to my dreams.

Sol et Luna

Does anyone know
how feelings give
birth to feelings?

Or simply: how
horizons have
no endings?

More simply: how
madness, in the
blink of an eye,

turns to a rush
of tranquil;
tell me why.

Does the Moon
envy the Sun,
I wonder?

Or is it the
other way
around:

Does the Sun
covet the
lustrous

company of
a thousand
other stars

when She
is rather a
star herself?

Lunam, Et Stellas

I am as        the
moon hiding to
     and fro amidst
the       stampede
of stark-black clouds
        (or is it the sky?)

       You are my stars,
collectively,
as if you    cannot
swing too              far
               from my       orb.

When people look
at       us       they'll
            see that our
lights are

one.

Sol Die

Had me believe it was a Sunday,
      she moved with such a reverence.
      It somewhat leads me from a fray.
      How I clung to her day by day:

She's happy but she's crying, how absurd;
      the eagles bring her her supper.
      How absurd. She likes but dislikes love,
      but loves in return. How absurd.

The pleasure from her whispers, I would gladly die lives for;
      she does not boast a tear when her sorrow comes with fear.
      Like sunsets in Paris, and her lovers, too,
      nothing does compare to you.

Lapsus

Jump and fall
and fall    again--

Feet slightly apart;
    picking up
pieces from broken
         hearts.

You reach out
as if    you
   hadn't grown at all,

as if you'd ever
   been so small.



And fall again.


Like fallen men,
shot down in
the horrid    scenery:



the coast of Normandy   
    sodden with the blood
of men whose        hands
shall write of home
no more. 


And jump,          as if
    that heals the itch
this world has
longed    to scratch.

50th Post: Caduam Leonis

Battered, torn
     like the garments
of Egyptian peasants.
How does one man
be thus       reborn?

With the lion's
tail I write my    lines
I paint my sceneries;
        vexation brings
them from my hands.

And when the piercing
thunders roll,    as
     Grecian men astute
and strong.         Make
noises you own not.

No spit of roses, daffodils,
              or even dew-don 
grass will           rise on
your melancholy,
solitary              grave.

Lyanna

You smile and I wonder,

how could you after all

the things I did not do?

You talk in a way

I cannot hear what you say

but I can see your mouth speaking.

You walk on a path

I will never tread on

because you let not anyone.

You sing to your shadow,

and only to him;

o, how envious I grow!

You laugh like a child

will laugh at some mistake

he mistook for one.

You cry at goodbyes,

at hellos; darling, why

do you still endure?

You think you cannot be pierced

through your soul but you

kneel at your bedside every night.

You speak with a voice 

that crumbles at 

the faintest tear;

you loved with a love

I have never felt

but I for ever hold dear.

          

Ex Metus I

alone i lay on my soft, warm bed

at the moment my eyes interlock

i shiver at the sudden knock--

Hiems Lupum

A plunge into neck-deep snow,

and without effort prance on it

is a noteworthy talent.

Glares like from a beast unknown

striking fear in faint hearts

bringing chills to both flesh and bone.

Claws like knives on paws,

ripping through skin like scissors

with breath like ice that thaws.

Lassus Tigris

The tired tiger

not aged nor is he

a cripple but he

is weary and tired.

Tired from the hunt,

he forces a grunt

to satisfy his

lazy, meager wish:

"Fill me once again

with the power that

I once had and bragged,

that in which I'm clad."

The tired tiger

lay dead waiting

in desperation,

he died still claiming 

the power he had not.

Radior Solam

Write me a ray of sunshine;

send it to me with all your love;

place it on a rainbow's colors,

I'll be waiting at its end.

When it rains, look for the sun.

At least, a ray if there is none

for on the sun is where I am,

where I create my rainbow's end.

Sing me a song on a wavecrest;

the seas are where my cares rest.

I'll catch you when you reach the shore

and there you'll find I'm so much more.

Meet me at the midnight moon,

that's where I stay when all is naught

and like the stars, I'll wait for you;

like the stars, I'll shine for you.

In Platea Vetuum Rex

I tread along the Old King's Road

while waiting for my damsel dear;

I find its beauty my abode

with purple flow'rs and some wild deer.

Come day, the morbid Old King's Road,

it shines as the sun it wakes up;

the morning greeted by cock and toad;

the rough looks smooth, the smooth looks rough,

but come night, the road it glows

with the fireflies lit like clarion stars;

its beauty like Sir Shakespeare's prose.

The Old King's Road, a work of art.

And once I hear my damsel's darling voice

calling out from the fray,

I greet her by the Old King's Road

and ought that there we, for the night, stay.

69 Things I Need My Future Significant Other To Do

1. Love me with a mother's care, an artist's pride, and a drunkard's wild haze. 
2. Lie to me but lie not with another man.
3. Play with me; pretend we're tigers and we have claws. Gut me from throat to belly.
4. I offer you my love until the seas run out of water; equal that and love me until the skies run out of clouds to spew.
5. Cook for me.
6. I don't care if you lack the talent, sing me to sleep timely.
7. Destroy me in bed.
8. Let me destroy you in bed.
9. Listen to my music, discover me through that.
10. Know that I don't really keep promises save for one: there is no other girl.
11. When I'm mad, please don't listen to whatever horrible thing I might tell you. Please.
12. Be contented with what little I could give, I am destitute where you are plentiful,
13. but know that I do not settle for less.
14. Say yes, you know what I mean.
15. Seduce me; by word, by deed, whichever way you will.
16. Make friends with mine; they're great people, and they will like you, don't worry.
17. You are beautiful and I need you to believe that.
18. Stay.
19. Don't disturb me when I'm cooking. Seriously, even my parents keep that in mind.
20. Our love is like a candle: I will keep adding wax, you just keep the fire going.
21. Refrain from your insecurities. Specifically, don't think other girls deserve me more than you do. I become disappointed that you view their betterment rather than the heavenly yours.
22. I am a patient SO, but I beg you not to abuse that.
23. I have genuine care for others (given that they deserve it), keep that in mind.
24. Know that I will listen to everything you want to tell me, but understand that I will not grasp every single detail. (No one can, actually).
25. Listen to me when I sing, when I speak, when I practice speeches, when I am distraught, when I am merry, when someone angers me, when something bothers me. I just need you to be physically there, in front of me. You need not comprehend (unless I ask you to).
26. Discern my weakness from my incapability.
27. Hold my hand if I ever become bedridden; hold my hand until I get better or worse...
28. If I die first, don't come to my funeral. I don't want you to remember me sleeping peacefully (and eternally) in a coffin, darling. However, if you remain strong enough to still live, do visit me from time to time. I would have liked company by then.
29. I make mistakes and I am asking for forgiveness in advance: forgive me.
30. Know that I love God more than you, but Earth-wise it is you that I love most.
31. I am not perfect and I need you to understand that. Expound what 'perfect' means, then correlate that with me, then with our relationship as well.
32. Long for me when I'm away because no matter how much you will miss me, I will always miss you more.
33. If we'll ever have children, two should be enough.
34. Remember that I love new thrills.
35. Remember that I fear the feeling of guilt.
36. Remember that I explain as much as I can to you because I want you to be the only one who understands me.
37. Remember that cheesecake is my favorite dessert, and that I like ribs more than warm hugs, and that I bend down to pet any friendly chubby puppy.
38. Before you leave me, tell me why. It doesn't matter if it's for a business meeting, or for good. Tell. Me. Why.
39. I am writing more often than not and understand that most likely, I will not notice you when I am doing so (because, tunnel-vision).
40. Know that I like kittens as much as the Backstreet Boys want it that way, but not as much as how Bieber constantly wants to be an asshole.
41. Remember that I choose who I respect. I don't even believe that doors should be held for all women in general. Even women become assholes, too, and I certainly won't hold doors for assholes.
42. Keep in mind that I am one of the most judgmental people out there.
43. Remind me when I am speaking against anyone or anything too much because I haven't figured out a definite extent when it comes to judging others.
44. Wake me up when I need to. I have grown to become an absolute heavy sleeper. (Once I have slept 20 hours straight). 
45. I love movies. Watch movies with me.
46. I love food. Remember that I can be effortlessly bribed with food.
47. Know that I strive to live for a cause.
48. I pity the less fortunate; come with me when I should assist humanitarian aid.
49. As much as possible, be with me. I'll need you.
50. If we'll marry, know that you'll have the say as to where we'll live.
51. Know that I can tolerate you (up to any extent) at your red season.
52. Know that I will not renounce my God for you, nor will I put you among the duties I have in my church. I will never turn my back on my religion for anything or anyone. If you can't have that, then I can't have you and don't expect me to have regrets because I won't. 
53. Accept my three humble C's: my chocolates, my cooking, and my compliments.
54. Understand that I believe that money can buy happiness.
55. Understand that I don't really know many good jokes, so don't always ask me for some.
56. Recognize my weaknesses, I want you to help me overcome them.
57. I'd very much appreciate it if you'd dress beautifully (yet modestly) for me. Everyone loves a pretty girl in a pretty dress.
58. Know that I have an exceptionally active internet life, but is only limited to my Facebook, Twitter, and my blog.
59. Read my blog. Remember that you shall inspire most, if not all, of whatever I put there.
60. Know that you shall be immortal(ized).
61. Have respect for your elders, if you still have none.
62. Know that I love hugs (mostly because I seldom get any).
63. Know that I do not and I will never tolerate the concept of a 'month-sary'. It is as hideous as it sounds. Aren't people contented with an anniversary? Jeez.
64. I like traveling; if you do, too, let's go to places we've never seen before.
65. Know that if murder was legal, I'd stab hypocrites to death.
66. If you don't like a particular thing that I'd been accustomed to do, kindly ask me to stop.
67. Know that if less fortunate people disgust you, why, you disgust me even more.
68. I like taking pictures with hot-ass cars as if they're mine. Please don't let other guys take pictures (or the like) with you as if you're theirs.
69. If you love Game of Thrones, and you root for Stannis Baratheon, the First of his Name, to reign over the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, and you love puppies, and you're shorter than I am, you should know that you are the most perfect girl living as of now, as far as it concerns me.

Volturius

He flies with frightful wings of black,

his claws as horrid as his claws;

all dead things, his to devour;

his lusts fiendish, his vices foul.

He seeks the dead, the frail, the dying,

and what is left of lionsprey;

he haunches on that rotting flesh

with the vigor of a river fish.

He with his friends mock the dying;

where the lion sups, they are nearby

on dead, pale branches of dead, pale trees;

the way lions sup, they learn for they see.

Quicquid Ego Facere

i love you so

even if it might not be;

as the stars light up the sky,

i will;

it's hard to do so but

i try,

i always do

for it's what

it means, that i'll stay for you,

and whatever i do is for you

Sicut Tu Volo

Break me as you will;
I deteriorate at your word;
I endear you for the pleasure
so murder me for the thrill~

Sartor

Wena traeh nekorb ym hctits: roliat eht ekil, gnilrad, os. Deruc teg t'now i fi tor lliw i emit ni dna, nori no tsur ekil em no sraew worros ym. Yad hcae etarepsed worg i woh das st'i.

Erratae

around turn you when you hold I'll though

out way your find door the there's

me to back come please but no

be me leave you don't why oh

along all why reason

 the known have should

 I that understand I no

me at mad be and on go

why out found never have I

darling for left you why

known never I've and true

so love a me gave you

Questus Exire Ex Syrtes

That moment I let go of your splendor of a hand, which I despairingly regret, I fell into quicksand; a quicksand that pulls me in deeper as I struggle to get out to reach for you again, and the only pleasure I get is watching my almost-hopeless demise firsthand. It's rather quite funny, though; the way I long for your fingertips to rejuvenate my face as mine had already dived into the plenitude of wet sand, for your hair to seize me as my nose caught hold of its heavenly scent as mine lay damp from the sweat of struggle, for your arms to embrace me in my triumph and in my(this) despair, as well, as mine arms have not the ability to embrace you in return. Call it 'putting you in a pedestal' all you want but that was never how I deemed to call it. I never put people I devote my flawed self to on a pedestal. What I'd rather (metaphorically) do is I tell every person I stumble upon about how you make me smile, laugh, live, grieve, frown, love. Hold my imperfect hand with the perfect yours... because now it is only your hand I shall hold onto to escape the quicksand~

Fortissimo Viro Equus

I ride my steed to horizons
in search of peace, in search of war;
I have found none insofar
save for you, my clarion star

Enim Vos

for you, skies turn
grey and leaves
turn brown and
I duck down
so your rays
can touch their faces~

Elementae

Her starlit eyes,

they shone like lanterns,

they lit the way

for weary trav'lers; 

her dark brown hair

like Venetian silk

that spun throughout

a queen's night gown;

her gentle voice

like the fiddler's tune;

it calms the soul

like petting a foal;

her everything;

a work of art,

a splendid theatre show;

what big a shame

that I let it all go~

Lacrimae

To urge them back
is hardest when
you're gone again...

Parte Difficilissima

The hardest part

of loving you

is what to say,

what just to do

and when you leave,

it's what I fear;

why should I live

if you're not here?

Sensuum

Tell me everything you can tell me,

tell me anything you think I'd bear,

but I only hear what I want to hear;

show me every inch of you magic,

what's underneath your tunic,

but I only see what I want to see;

bring every kind of meat and mead,

of fruit and wine and leaf and bread,

but I only savor what I will;

stroke wherever you promised you would,

stroke me places no one else should,

but I only feel what I want to feel~

Mane Une

One August morn, the sun shone not

and thousands wondered in their naught:

"Where is the light?" one, he had sought;

"Where, indeed," a wee lass, she thought.

Tamquam Phantasma

A phantom like a mem`ry ris`n

from depths of the blackest of hues;

it mutters words I shan't depict

for its words were all but chilling,

and not a man had been willing.

A phantom like a tempest tide

laying foot upon the lakeshore,

coal black fluids dripping, flowing;

it wrought a force none might abide

that man shan't live, but come nigh, die.

A phantom like a silver moon;

direwolves on a prowl nearby,

their blazing eyes upon its wraithe;

they eye it as a pleasant boon,

a precious stone, a shim`ring rune.

A phantom like the winter storms;

rampaging, striding to and fro

with hail and snow like wisps of fire,

like scythes that ravage wheat and corn;

o, how a phantom's wrath is borne!

A phantom like a mem`ry lost;

lost in the waves of space and time,

lost like a boy outgrown of cries...

but all along this phantom's cause

has doomed us all for foolish hosts.

Folia

birthed squalling 

against a gale,

small as a tyke,

no two alike;

a spring green child

swaying against

a wayward wind

yet lives so mild;

lady mother

ever coloured

beautifully,

very deftly;

coloured by her

spring green children;

her darling brood

that covers wood;

however by

the unfateful,

orange autumn,

came a sly bane;

her innocent,

spring green children

reposed aground,

grouped in a mound;

she fed in grief

on their gay souls;

their innocent,

wee, spring green souls;

in the winter,

lady mother

mournfully yards

against blizzards;

solemnly, she

remembers all

her innocent, 

spring green children;

she seeks to rest,

to fall asleep,

hoping to see

them in her dreams;

she wakes up tired

to morning light,

yet welcomes it

with great delight;

to misfortune, 

she did seem to

forget her late, 

spring green children;

she gently raised

her wooden arms

toward the sun,

like vict`ry won;

and soon, and soon,

she birthed one,

a small, green chap:

a spring green chap;

and along with

the weary thought

of all her late,

spring green children;

she's lost thoughtless,

the wretched fear

of losing them

all but again--

Oratio Gratias III

Thou deliverest me from harm

That I might not fall to sin,

That I might not be damned,

That the devil mightst not win.

Thou hast shown me that I,

A frail, fragile fellow,

Can be perfect as Thou art,

Magnanimous, as Thou art.

I am grateful for Thy care,

for Thy guiding, Thy protecting;

I am gratefully aware

Of Thy love never-ending.

I submit mine own self

To Thy will, O Lord,

and will answer to Thine help,

and feast upon Thy words.

Finge Hic:

waking up one, dull day,

glancing at the walls, ornaments

coloured black, white, and gray.

you’ve never felt such vehemence,

rising to see, as well,

your body in pale mien;

you suppose, “Am I in hell?

what a colorless hell this is, then,”

you strip for a shower;

turning it on, you find,

the water flows asunder

In quite an austere manner;

you walk out of your bath

and in your greyscale towel

you lather yourself, step on a mat

of the same, grey debacle;

you open your closet

only to see that your clothes,

they haven’t any difference

but their voluminous modes.

you dare not wear to please,

for it mattered not anyway;

you take your drab car keys,

and head out to greet the yellow-less day;

leaves without the green;

bark without any wrinkle;

no trees even a little lean;

no daylight dew even twinkled.

you ought to go to the beach, for

you believe that’s art’s deposal:

“chanteurs chanter de la mer,

et peintres peignent la mer.”

as you drive, you hear the gulls,

and they squawk, however

it isn’t as melodious

as you thought you had heard before;

you reach the sea, and step out;

you trample on sand only to bring no ease,

but discomfort, and a frown to the mouth.

what kind of disease is this?

you glower in unexpected disgust;

you start your drab car with her drab keys,

and drive back home in wanderlust,

and you can’t help your abrupt tears:

you weep as you leave the tedium

and pace reflectively,

and go back in your home, so dim;

you wonder in melancholy:

“how could man subsist

in a world devoid of its beauty?

more so, how could a world exist

in a world devoid of its art?”