Gloria, walang bumili sa iyong pakana

unti-unti tayong hinuhubaran
ng dangal
pilit tayong sinasanay sa
amoy ng pulbura
at hugis ng .45 at m16
upang huwag tayong magalit
sa paggamit ng dahas
upang mamanhid tayo
tuwing me bubulagta't
binarbikyu ng bala.

gusto nilang
huwag na tayong magulat
sa mga headlines ng korapsyon
at kasinungalingan
ayaw nila tayong mag-aklas

dahil akala nila
mapipigilan ng bala
ang papalapit na sigwa.

887*

and the streetlights
long more than the other
night
they cried for the souls that got buried
in funky print ads of
an elite coffee brand

silence has never sound so
sad.

in grief they torn the
streets
where tears turned to shouts.
red flags waved in place
of bodies thrown to the
ground.

mourning is a bladed weapon.

freedom is not for the meek
freedom is for those who
fight, who dare to die (so that
others may live).

for only when
the east turns red
can we really own that we
must.

*the number of victims of
extrajudicial killings as of
October 2007

LETTER C

i woke up this morning
thinking of letter c
(some word probably lost in a half remembered dream)

tried to figure out
what c ever had to do with today
or yesterday
but had zero idea from start to end.

easier it is to think of things
right here -red in the face
black in truth -real.
than to be dragged in some
lost thoughts over nothing.
better it is to rage over
a school pub closed down
in name of hiding the truth -
while a foul-mouthed monster
sits in an office, dreaming a better devil.

nothing ever satisfies
more than raging over what's real.

SENTI

Isn’t it a lovely thought
To embrace a lie
For a moment of truth?

How far?
How far will you go
For a dream
That in your heart,
You know
It’ll remain forever so.

How far
How far can you stay
For less than what you want?
That while one can give so much
Another gives much less.

How long?
How long can you believe
Yet doubt?

Is the feeling as lovely
As a coated lie?
Will you still hold on
When it no longer feels right?

Walls are Too Beautiful to Ignore

One poet said that walls are beautiful

To the sight,

To the touch

Smell like purity.

Virginal, almost.

Poetic.

True.

Like defined barriers

That throw us off

Yet cushion the fragile

Ironic.

Real.

That’s what we have

What we are.

What we intend to become.

For how long?

The walls are too beautiful

To ignore.

Crisp Gloom

Dread is in the air

I smell it in his thoughts,

And his broken words,

His eyes are deep in gloom.

Sadness is relative.

To an aching soul,

It is death, a penalty

For the hopeless,

A welcome gift to end it all.

And neither is right

For sadness is constant

Never leaving, never ceasing

It is battle to be won.

Or lost..

Hindi Ito Tula 4

Naniniwala akong
Mayroong simula
Upang may magbigay-daan
Sa pagwawakas
Ng kuwento,
Ng pangarap,
Ng buhay,
Upang mabatid ang dahilan
Sa likod ng mga pangyayaring
Nagbubuklod
Sa mga tauhan
Nakakalungkot man,
Nakakatuwa,
Nakakamuhi,
O nakakawasak man ng katinuan.
At upang ang ilang linya
Ng kalituan ay panandaliang
Mamaalam sa paglikha
Ng mga kabit-kabit na salitang
Madalas ay nagpapanggap na tula…

Saka na muna,
Marahil, mga ilang sandali rin
Ng pamamahinga…

Published: Dangadang V.5©