RSVP

I never thought I'd see museums in a different light,

More than a plenary of a milllion brainchild,

Seemingly tiny Meccas of divine hands,

A multitude of open doors,

And windows to different adventures,

Each artwork an escape,

Each exhibit a testament,

Each piece a refuge,

Reminding you that home is created,

By hands and hearts that seek it,

But I never thought I'd see museums in a different light,

Kaleidoscopic dance of lights birthed by stained glasses,

Are a reminder of your eyes I have yet to witness,

The crevices lined by acrylic embracing canvas,

Are a reminder of the walls you've built up,

Protecting and hiding the parts you fear to bring to light,

The same walls that have become murals,

A tribute to your battle scars,

And each attempt to cover with strokes of colors,

Instead of concealing, makes you even more beautiful,

I never thought I'd see museums in a different light,

And I long for the days when I could tell the world, 

That I have found a masterpiece,

That makes my heart beat a little faster, 

And then slower, back and forth, without even getting tired,

You are its calm and its storms,

And though at times, this heart cant seem to figure,

What rhythm it wants to dance to or sing,

There's no place it would rather get confused in,

I never thought I'd see museums in a different light,

And seek a museum I'd keep wanting to visit,

Because I know more works of art are to be uncovered,

As the hidden hallways of your heart are discovered,

A conclave of everything heavenly and pure,

A multitude of hidden doors to adventure, 

Each day with you, an escape,

Each memory with you, a testament,

Each conversation with you, a refuge,

And my hands and heart are eager,

To make my arms your home.

Misadventure of A Hopeless Romantic

He would look at her face every day,

Dumb-founded and in awe,

And each single day,

Every day,

He would find something new,

Something new to admire on,

How can something this breath-taking,

Be the cause of his calm,

He sat still,

Trying his best to fathom,

Whatever it is he is feeling,

Hoping she would be his heart’s final stop.

He would always remember her voice,

How she sounded a little boyish,

But, like magic, in a second,

Would sound like the heavens opened up its gates,

Once she started singing,

And each single day,

Every day,

He'd long for another second,

When her voice would grace his ears,

He would go back to how he felt,

When he first realized,

She's what he wanted,

She's who he was waiting for,

She's her own woman,

And he wants her to realize it,

And each single day,

Everyday,

He discovers it is still there,

That plethora of ineffable emotions,

And he asks,

With an almost bewildered wonder,

He realizes he’s already hoping,

Equivalence Point

I met you at a time,

When I was almost self-destructive,

Almost as reactive as sodium metal,

To even water's tiny hint,

And to any girl I meet,

I was Hydrogen ion in strong acid,

I'd take what I want in a minute,

And then dissociate completely in a blink,

Then everything unfolded slowly,

But at the same time in an instant, ironically,

As if the universe was a lab rat,

Working on titrations and equivalence points,

Every careful twist on the burette,

Were the long conversations we shared,

Every vigorous shakes to the flask,

Were the disagreements we fought through,

And the lookout for the right hint of phenolphthalein,

Was my heart arrested in your yearning,

And I was sure right then,

This color change was permanent,

But no, it was no typical love story,

Where I'd go talk on and on of chemistry,

No, it was no typical love story,

Of sparks, Of hits and misses and feet sweeping,

No it was no typical love story,

Of 'then it hit me's and slow motions and OSTs,

No, it was no typical love story,

Of planned proposals and scenic kneeling,

That's all reserved for cinemas and screens,

I guess I lucked out because ours is real,

You always have felt like a dream,

Comforting yet distant and indistinct,

But now you are real, we are real,

And it is comforting to see,

That the world is a world of chances,

A web of uncalculated events,

And maybe one day,

I get to exhaust the constellations,

And the caged up infinity in your eyes,

Or catch a glimpse of new-born nebulas,

Every time you waver a smile,

And I know I will always be looking on,

In absolute awe and admiration,

No matter how great the distance,

For your very existence,

Is on itself a miracle,

For I know we can buffer anything,

Because you are the perfect conjugate base to my weak acid

SLR (Sorry, Late Reply)

She reminds me of mornings,
Of sunrise and new beginnings,
Of the first sip of coffee,
The warmth that creeps inch by inch,
That momentary heart burn,
Pulling you in for another sip,


She reminds me of sunsets,
Of long walks and sands and beaches,
The sun's graceful goodbye,
As its rays carefully thumbs through the sky,
That melancholic murmur of ocean waves,
Caressing your feet and gripping your chest,
That momentary jolt of shiver to the spine,
Pulling you in, as if whispering; "stay"

She reminds me of novels and books,

Of time travels and misadventures,

Of  metaphor, oxymoron, and simile,

Of saddest lines, of two cities, of two families and odyssey, 

Of words, like skyscrapers, masterfully built,

Taking you places while holding you still,

That momentary arrythmia, holding you prisoner,

Pulling you in convincing you to another page,

She reminds me of hallways,

Of empty eerily quiet hallways,

Where all you can hear is your own heartbeat,

Or your own breathing,

Or your own footsteps,

And maybe hers,

But faintly, at a distance,

Pulling you in for a glance,

She reminds me of the universe,

And all its beauty,

She reminds me of the world,

And all its lunacy,
She reminds me,

And maybe that's all she is, a reminder,

That sometimes beauty can be in all places,

In all places but here.

Of Patronus and Time-turners

I wish I knew how to stop the turning,

Of this time-turner in perpetual spinning,

I wish I had the strength to unhinge myself,

Of its chains and of the hypnotic time travel,

But like those in the time room of time-turners,

I'm trapped in an endless loop of falling over, 

Un-falling, re-falling,

Un-falling, re-falling,

You were Lupin at a time I was in a state of terror,

At a time I didn't know how to fend off dementors,

But with fate's playful twist,

You were also that thought of bliss,

And then luck left, because worse,

You were also my patronus,

Except that I cannot summon you to my heart's desire,

Or even at will when dementors strike,

So I hold on to the time-turner,

And faintly to myself, i whisper,

Expecto patronum,

Expecto patronum,

And no matter how much magic creeps into me,

When we share moments and memories,

After all these spells and potions I memorized,

It hurts to see that I'm still a muggle in your eyes,

Maybe someday I'd gather the strength,

Like a member of the Order, hellbent,

I'll send your way a patronus message,

To maybe, just maybe, make you realize,

The reason I held on and stood with my wand,

Fending of dementors with all my might,

I was always hoping to see you across the river,

And maybe stay with me forever,

Because you have always been my patronus,

In this world full of dementors,

Always,

Always.

And then finally I can let go of this time-turner.

Hindi Ako Imbitado sa Sarili kong Piging

*unang beses kong susulat ng pyesa na medyo pang-spoken word. Sinulat ko ito para sa bespren kong si Alea na magdidiwang ng birthday at may pa-event na nalalaman, so ayun magpeperform ako (pwede kayo pumunta, mag-iwan ng mensahe for details). Ito ay mga pinagtagpi-tagpi kong mga usapan namin, dedicated sa kanyang magiging asawang si Zion.*

Nakatitiyak akong hindi kita hinanap,
At lalong sigurado akong hindi mo ako hinalughog,
Na parang nahulog na singsing,
Sa lumpon ng sukal ng mga dahon,
Bagkus ay dinatnan natin ang isa't-isa,
Nagtagpo ngunit hindi pinakay na nagkita,
Gaya ng paghalik ng antok,
Sa tuwing magkukubli sa kumot,
Tulad ng isang along marahang gumagapang,
Sa mukha ng karagatan,
Hanggang sa marating nito ang dalampasigan,
Kaya't ika'y kagyat kong inanyayahan,
Maligayang pagdating!
Pinakapipitagan at kaisa-isa kong panauhin,

Sana'y matutunan mong mahalin,
Ang mga buhulbuhol kong mga palamuti,
Hindi ko naman sila sinadyang pagbuhulbuholin,
Ang totoo'y marahan ko naman silang hinabi,
Ngunit ang buhay ko ay unos,
At ang isip ko ay ipu-ipo,
Mabuti't mahigpit ko silang naitali,

Sana'y matutunan mong mahalin,
Ang kakarampot na aking ihahain,
Matagal ko silang inipon at sinaing,
At matagal ko ding pinagdudahan kung sa kanila'y mayroon pang papansin,
Maraming paso at tilamsik ang aking tiniis,
At kahit alam kong ito na lamang ang mayroon ako,
Ihahain ko ang lahat at walang ititira o itatago mula sayo,

Sana'y matutunan mong mahalin,
Ang maugong na musika at makaluskos na mga plaka,
Alam kong medyo may kalumaan na at baka sila'y napaglipasan na,
Ngunit ang musikang ito ang tangi kong kumot sa malamig na gabi,
Masaya akong sa iyo ko sila ibabahagi,
At sabay nating damhin ang init ng kanilang saliw,

Sana'y matutunan mong mahalin,
Ang panandaliang mga katahimikan,
At pabugsobugsong mga kalampagan,
Dahil ako ay karagatan,
Tahimik at malawak,
Ngunit minsa'y nagkakanlong ako ng mga delubyo,
At galit na naghuhulma ng mga isla,

Sana'y kayanin mong manatili,
Dahil handa ko ring ipamalas sa iyo ang ganda ng takipsilim,
At ang silahis ng araw sa bukang liwayway,

Sana lamang ay iyong tandaan,
Sa iyong pagdalo sa aking pagdiriwang,
Hindi ko naman hinihiling na ako'y itulad sa mga santo o santa,
Na ilalagay sa pedestal at sasabitan ng talulot ng sampaguita,
Ang nais ko sana'y sabay tayong lumikha ng hardin,
At sabay nating abangan ang pamumukadkad ng ating mga tanim,
Hindi ko naman nais na ako'y gawan ng mga kanta,
O sambitan ng mga nagliliyagang tula,
Ang nais ko ay hawakan mo ang kamay ko nang mahigpit,
Upang masiguro kong ika'y nasa aking tabi,
Dahil sapat nang musika ang ako'y nasa iyong piling,

Sana'y ika'y manatili,
Sana'y mahalin mo ang buhulbuhol kong mga palamuti,
Sana'y mahalin mo ang kakarampot kong ihahain,
At sana'y may pang-unawa ka sa musikang napaglumaan,
Sapagkat matagal na akong nagnanais na magdiwang,
At marahil sa unang pagkakatao'y hindi na maulit,
Na hindi ako imbitado sa sarili kong piging.

There is Magic in Literature

There is magic in literature,

And in the way words can dance,

That no matter how definitive,

And precisely their meanings are dissected,

Or what their etymology may dictate,

Much like the way your eyes,

Feel like a nebula,

Birthing new constellations,

Words, at times, 

Manage to capture infinity,

In its own finite space,

There is magic in literature,

Much like how a book,

Can have only a single author,

But somehow have it a hundred,

Or even a million ways interpreted,

Almost as if it mimics the way,

I find your lips,

In the spaces between the ocean waves,

Or how i almost hear your voice,

In the warmth of every sunset rays,

There is magic in literature,

Like how they teach you at school,

Different figures of speech,

And have you remember their meanings,

And make you list their origins,

Metaphors, synecdoches,

Hyperboles and similes,

But then you discover later on, 

Like a signature dish or potion,

How words magically fit,

With a single twist or whiff,

Like how in some way,

You feel like a poem,

Or how the thought of you,

Turns that poem into a song,

And no matter what meaning,

Webster or the Merriams say they have,

Words know no limits nor bounds,

Even when sewn together,

Or even held down on paper,

With an exact number of syllables,

And tied down methodically,

Into whichever literary structure,

They can have a different scent,

In each and every time you read them,

Like how I find it ineffable and awe-inspiring,

The way some words,

Do not phonetically have the same sound,

But still manage to rhyme,

Like your name and my heartbeat.