Not Toxic

Somewhere I read that age is not toxic. It does not make love sick,
get weak and die. Love is like muscles. You stretch your arms
to draw some shells near, bend toward the clear waters to inspect.
There are star fishes, red, orange, and yellow, decorating
walls of a room repainted to recycle its appeal.

We agreed early on that we will take up resistance training,
lift some weight from off our chest and dump them on the table.
We need to stretch our legs, arms, back, and life span
or pull up some web sites to get some advice. We really need
to work this out.

We convinced ourselves this: our love would be like the sun,
rising up to a new day no matter how often darkness engulfs
us. Tomorrow is another set of breakfast, lunch and dinner.
A new round of vegetables, fish and chicken to keep our bodies
from pork, beef, donuts and sweets.

I've got a wish: be here every morning even if Stevie Wonder
wails from the radio, 'this time could mean good-bye'.

With Jehovah Over a Cup of Coffee

Jehovah is seated,  a  coffee cup in hand,

the umbrella's shade towers over his seat. 

I am sorry I am late, not my usual self. I sighed. 

I look at the street, the cars and passers-by, restless, 

I am not sure where to start. Can  I can look him in the eye? 

Snapping his fingers, he offered me a seat.

It's alright, relax, and let us have this talk. 

Thank you for this meet up,  despite your busy day 

But things are getting tougher. I'm sure you knew. 

If people knew you're here, the media will be all over  you

with cameras and microphones, in global TV, on the web, demanding 

that you who parted the Red Sea to do it one more time, or 

heal the world of COVID or Richard Dawkins or bring 

Bertrand Russel back to life. They will test your brain with instruments 

 or enclose you in a lab. Sorry, Jehovah, I'm distracted, with many things. 

Let me regain my focus quick, been working at it for years. 

Then Jehovah  asked, what do you want to know?

Only one thing and if you require an NDA, I'll sign- 

Do you have a schedule now, a date, for dooms day? 

Jehovah replied, Well, sorry, you know that's classified. 

Iba na Ngayon

Dati-rati, sa panaginip
kumikilos ng kusa ang isip,

hinahabi ang mga salitang lumulutang,
parang kulambong na hindi lumilisan

hanggang ihulog nito ang ulan
sa lupang kailanman hindi naging handa

sa pagsalubong o sa pag-tipon nito
sa kaniyang mga konkretong lansangan.

Wala ng pag-gising sa hating-gabi,
kung saan ang diwa ay basang-basa

sa mga kaisipang nalikha sa paghimbing,
at iniahon ng pagbangon mula sa higaan.

Wala ng init sa dibdib na parang alinsangan
na hindi ka magawang mapakali,

naghahanap ng ginhawa, ng malamig na hangin
o tubig sa katawang nagi-init.

Sa labas ay patuloy ang buhos ng ulan,
habang sa kalooban ay naghahanap ng dilig.

Violent Waters

Her finger met the steam half-way,
as it plunges into the cup.

It could break an ear drum,
the shrill bouncing on the walls.

Not Being Here

On the window, sunlight flashes on and off
as clouds assemble overhead.

Daylight, streaming through the curtains,
is a false hope once overcast gets here.

There is no breeze to cool the skin.
It is likely too soon for a thunderstorm.

But, what do I know? Your cancer spread
like clouds in what had been a blue sky.

At 8pm this evening, the rains came.
It was a downpour.

A love poem

I will not give away that this is a love poem.
Run it through a search engine but you will not find
a lover's vocabulary in it. You'll be puzzled,
disappointed and confused: lovelorn.

The lines are deliberate to lead you on, to raise
the hope that it is here somewhere. But it is
like courtship where the thrill is in the chase.
The rule remains- haste makes waste.

Stare at it long. You might chance to catch a glance,
quick, elusive, intermittent. Be smitten with written
words promising bonding with page. Maybe if
the wonder remains, give me a second look.

Bu(llet)s

It was the sort of day I could have ignored, overslept, snored.
Unable to recall, in fact, details of a fall. My phone did not ring

to wake me up to challenges of a to-do list. Were the clouds
to assault the sky? Or unable to stay or go?

I rush to a bus while its doors are air-powered open. Dozens of us
push to get a ride. Can't hammer your way through windows.

Stuck in traffic jams? Man, this is a whole-day stay
in an air-conditioned bus! That makes angry or hungry or both.

Honk the horn. Get those electronic eyes catch details of inconsequential
conversations but the most important question - are we there yet?

When I got home, the lines were blurred by hungry stomachs. And so it was.
The rain was a precedent. It poured outside like a hail of bullets.

Still Clear

It's not exactly clear which words became
the vow we made before God and men,
but I do recall the only thought I kept:
to run away with you.

You worried too much about the cold
air inside malls when strolling
along its wide corridors. I only took notice
of your hand, its weight, its texture.

You enjoyed the mountain hikes,
the sound of water falling from a height,
and the thick crown canopy, but I
only looked to the glow of your eyes.

Your conversation recently has turned
to therapies, of bottles and pills
but hey, I only see a bride's face fair
and unblemished as the day we said our vows.

A Box to Fill Up

Lying in bed, in this room, one afternoon, 

while rain water kept dripping on the glass window, 

depriving the room of daylight, I kept peering, 

for no reason, at the ceiling. 

Signs of you were in every corner: 

that small picture frame which kept your smile, 

those magazines you often asked me to buy, 

that lipstick-written graffiti you wrote on the wall, 

and the laptop full of logs 

of our chat. 

Today, at 36 degrees centigrade, I've got a box 

I can't get myself to fill up.

Colony

Over 50 million registered voters are expected
____If you want to know where the sweet is, follow the ants
to troop to polling places today.
____Not one ever hoards information or loot. They like to share.

All in all, nine candidates want to be president
____It's hard labor until they die
while eight are vying for the vice-presidency
____carrying loads of sweets into protected vaults.

There will always be complaints but 85-95%
____Others are destined to mate first then die,
success rate will be good enough
____others to fight to keep the sweet intact then die.

Voter turnout is expected to be higher
____But there is one who needs to survive
than the 70% registered during 2004 polls
____and for whom they live. The queen who woudn't quit.

So Dry and Still

In this summer heat,
anything I touch is too warm.

I miss the coolness of your skin-
my fingers wrapped around your arms.

I wish for your shade-like presence
in this air so dry and still.

Changing

The furniture was re-arranged in the same space.
Don't expect any kaleidoscope likeness.

But what does the pattern disclose to the viewer who
just wants a seat in the sofa chairs and gets lost in their pillows?

Pillory is not a play on words. It is war in peace time.
Vocabulary furnishes the ammo. Cold metal, dead

metal like the gun fire on the tarmac. It was perfect
range but the picture puzzle dropped on the floor.

His image on the glossy is not the real picture sure.
But flipping coins forever will not alter things.

Perhaps it is time to try this again. I need help
to move that single-seater here.

The Profits of a Vow

In the age of Tiger Woods, cars hit trees from loss of direction.
But loss is a not an action word. It is about now not later.

Late arrivals disorient movements, eyes follow the shifting sound
Like hound dogs. They can search and kill with nuclear payload.

This is the era of abandoned homes. Before the drones came,
they were deserted. The destruction is just formalities.

So, to keep one's sanity intact, shut a partner's mouth
with a kiss. Very pacifist, muffling dissent with affectation.

When you come to, try hard to peer into the heavy floating dust.
I recognize myself, organized and structured like a poem.

She does not bother with meanings or intentions.
The familiarity of words is an enough welcome.

Come is such a risky four-letter word. I ask,
Is our adventure so far profitable?

The Other End

This road, to the first time traveler, appears to have no end,
just forever winding. Like her, no sharp edges, only curves to learn.

His audit of the sceneries are adding up like expenses.
The totals are getting heavy in the pocket until they bore them.

"I wish I learned a foreign language, perhaps Russian,
these people don't know and read a Russian book as if I can."

The dizziness can make you puke. If she jumps out into the open,
totally unexpected, that will be indecent. Creditors will note.

Will anyone stay riding a runaway project? Must act fast.
Ahead might be a big hump from which you cannot see the other end.