Huwag mong ikahon ang pag-ibig

Ang pag-ibig ay isang simula at isa ring katapusan,
Isang orkestra ng kapayapaan,
Na sinasaliwan ng isang madugong digmaan,
Isang pook-tagpuan ng walang hanggan at ng mga hangganan,
Ito'y kalayaan at bilangguan,
Kung saan ang ibig sabihin ng kasiguraduhan,
Ay ang pagyakap sa mga katanungang walang tiyak na kasagutan,

Ang pag-ibig ay isang pagtatanghal ng mga "OO" at ng mga "HINDI",
Isang pagtatagpo ng mga maagap at ng mga nahuhuli,
Ito'y gaya ng liwanag at dilim,
Ng lamig at init,
At ng tamis at pait,
Ito'y kinukumpleto ng sarili nitong pag-iral,
Kaya't ito'y tulad ng maraming bagay,
At walang katulad na anumang bagay,

Ang ibig ko lamang sabihin,
Ay huwag magkamaling ikahon ang pag-ibig,
Dahil ikaw ma'y nakakahon din,
Alipin ng oras at kasaysayan,
Ng hangganan ng sariling pag-iisip at kamalayan.

Huwag mong ikahon ang pag-ibig,
Huwag mo itong isipan ng angkop na kataga o mga lebel at baitang,
Ng tamang edad o ng kung anong kasarian,
Kung anong anyo, hugis at pagkakakilalan,
Hayaan mong ang pag-ibig,
Ay maging tulad ng tubig,
Dumadaloy,
Nahuhulma,
Nababago ang estado,
May sariling lakas ngunit alam umindak sa himig pagbabago.

Magmahal ka nang walang pag-iimbot at pagtatangi,
Nang walang hinaharap
At nang walang nakaraan,
Nang walang pinipiling anyo at paraan.

At kung ang lipunan ang sa pag-ibig mo'y hahatol,
Hayaan yaring pag-ibig ang sa kamay mo'y magkuyom,
At mag-anak ng bagong panahon,
Isang bagong lipunang mapagpalaya at walang mga kahon.

You remind me of mountains

You remind me of mountains,
The serenity and silence,
Is your awkward quiet,
And the soft whiff of the wind,
Is your voice that is almost a whisper,
That every time you speak,
I had to lean in,
I wanted to lean in,
So i can feel the undulations,
In each word you utter,
The falling leaves and twigs,
Are the very small movements,
Of the muscles on your face,
As you make expressions,
Or maybe those same movements,
Were made to hide your emotions,
The weird crinkle on your nose,
I have never seen before,
And the wrinkle on your forehead,
You made when i was staring,
Is the mild cold breeze,
During a sunny climb,
It passes, but is something,
That is worth longing for,

You remind me of the mountains,
The undeniable resplendence,
As I inch even closer,
Becoming more evidently beautiful,
With every step and every turn,
And in the flesh, grander,
You look better in person,
Because just like the mountains,
A photo can't capture something infinite,
And as I go up its earthen path,
Rocks and boulders,
Roots and trees and muddy trails,
Have come to welcome me,
It reminded me of how,
Out of breath i was,
When i realized you were exactly,
How i dreamt you'd be,
Simple, yet complicated where it mattered,
You were raw,
You wear no make-ups,
You always choose to be defined by you,
And what you do,
And just like the mountains,
You will still be a mountain,
No matter how hard they say your path is,
No matter how many people had passed you by,
No matter even if they say your peak is not worth the trek,
No matter how much they complain,
Of how complicated your trails are,
You will still be a mountain,
Standing tall with all its majesty,

You remind me of the mountains,
How you like to go hard or go home,
And at times how violent you become,
Or want to become,
Or how quick you are to anger,
Or how you like to argue,
Especially if you have a point,
Just like climbing a mountain,
It is not for the faint hearted,
You either want to reach the peak,
Or not climb at all,
You can't decide halfway,
Because then it would be a waste,
And it even gets harder,
The more one complains,
The more one thinks about the path ahead,
It only gets steeper,
It only gets higher,
The air only gets thinner,
But it is also what makes up the mountains,
It is what you yearn for,
Not just the view,
It is the trek,
The catching of breath,
The soreness on the legs,
The violence of the hike.

They always told me that you were not possible,
That you did not exist,
You were once my unicorn,
But as science would put it,
You are an anomaly,
And to have known you and met you,
Was and will always be a privilege,
And as mountaineers have said,
"Climb mountains not so,
the world can see you,
But so you can see the world."
Yes, i want to see the world with you,
Because I've climbed mountains,
And reached their peaks,
But none compares to the elation you take me.

Your eyes, they still haunt me

Have you ever been left alone on the beach, 

Bare-footed with your toes half-buried in the sand,

On fine sand as soft as powder or maybe even like ash?

I have.

That gentle whiff of wind caressing your sun-burnt skin,

And mildly combing your hair as it sifts through,

The tiny spaces between each strand, stroking young scalp,

That calming chaotic melody of the almost rhythmic waves,

As they alternately kiss the sands until they reach your toes.

Have you ever found yourself alone staring westward,

As the day is getting ready to take a bow,

And witnessed the sun as it gracefully concedes to the darkness?

I have.

That majestic plethora of what seems like a million shades of orange,

As it slowly subdues the sky's blue with every minute's passing,

Bouncing from one cloud to another, 

Magically turning the sky into its own canvass with each stroke of light,

As the sun eventually drowns into the horizon.

Have you ever climb a mountain at dawn,

Reaching the summit during the night's deepest slumber,

Unconsciously being seduced by the stark darkness?

I have.

That gripping feeling as the almost star-dust splattered sky,

Holds your eyes prisoner to its awe-inspiring grandeur,

As you realize,the lights traveled light years to converge in one single sky,

All doubts on why mankind so much tries to explore the galaxies fade,

Because, after all, aren't we all drawn to beauty with a dash of mystery?

Time flew and years passed,

But that moment I saw them,

I was taken aback, 

They are exactly how I remembered them,

Yes, your eyes, they still haunt me.

I Need to Write You Into Poems

Decided to post poems here. Here's one of many. I-try ko halungkatin yung mga luma kong tula at i-post ko dito. Because they are shit too.

I want to write you into a poem,

Your skin shall be the paper,

On which these ideas come alive,

And each time i repeat the lines,

I'm tracing your every corner with my mind,

Your hands shall be the metaphors,

That will attempt to capture you,

And try to bring you to life,

And every one of them is an attempt to hold your hand, 

Your hair be each commas,

That entangle one line to the next,

Bringing together the metaphors,

Out of oblivion and into context,

Your eyes shall be the rhymes,

On which the words will be dancing,

They will try grasping the infinity,

The endless galaxies in your eyes,

I want to write you into a poem,

For this will be the only way,

This will be the closest I can get,

But i know that each time I try to,

I realize no words can ever fit you,

No metaphors nor rhymes,

No matter how masterfully construed,

Can get you any closer,

Though I write thousands of lines,

It will never be enough,

For you are an infinity on your own,

The thought of you is an adventure on itself,

And each poem is like a new poem,

Each time i read them again.

I want to write you into a poem,

No, i need to write you into a poem,

Though i know they will never be enough,

Though i know they will not bring you closer,

I need to write you into a poem,

To remind myself that you are real,

Because you sometimes feel too good to be true,

I need to write you into a poem,

So these feelings have somewhere they can belong to,

A place they can rest and at the same time thrive,

I need to write you into a poem,

Yes, I will continue writing you into poems.

July 2013