the morning after

No, I did not wake up at the wrong side of the bed to be pounding on the computer keyboard so early in the morning. I think I had a bad night. So bad that I could not find the most appropriate adjective to describe it.





There had been pretty bad nights before but that of last night was different. I did not feel pain when my longtime partner of three years punched me thrice on my face from a heated argument over being a virtual gallivant. Maybe I was fusing with so much jealousy and anger that I could not feel the pain then.



And because it was a bad night, lingering on the bed would only prolong whatever excruciating pain I was harboring. I often wake up late on Saturdays but my tummy sent synapse to my brain that it needed food already so I had to get up and do some rituals. How could I be hungry so early in the morning? Is it really my tummy or my bruised ego again that is in wanting?





There had been many ‘mornings- after’ complications already in the past couple of months. What makes this one different?



Two buttered-chicken breasts, a slice of mocha cake and a glass of icy cola – cold leftovers from last night’s party for a friend. Cold rubbish from the fridge but I thought that will do for now.





*kjcoud & forgottendaiz at flickr.com

marching march

There are people who have special fondness to a certain month, or in some cases, months. December is well celebrated because at Christmas day, families gather all over the world to celebrate. In fact it is the busiest month of the year for many of us. June and May is proven to be the best months for a wedding. The time is caught between dry and wet season so it is perfect for the honeymooners to stop the world and let it melt in envy of their sweetness. And of course not to mention, the beautiful blossoms that summer brings. What would a wedding be without the hues and colours of flowers?



But luckily for me, the month I deem very significant is the month of March.



Except that it is the month exactly next after February, where most budding love and love relationships come into full bloom, and could be used to evaluate whether the previous month’s hullabaloo about St. Valentine lasted another month long, March for me has become my hint to a year-end ever since I was a school kiddo: no more exams after this month, no more late night studying, no more terror teachers and irritating bully classmates. March, instead, inculcated that mantra in my young mind that it is the month to prelude summer! March is synonymous to fun and frolic in the beach, partying, countless sleep-over at a friend’s house, outdoor outback adventure, camping and simply the only legal alibi to wake up slow in the morning and to couch-potato in a lazy afternoon.


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March is also the summary of a student’s quest for knowledge and education all throughout the school year. In fact, it is the month normally when graduations are commenced. Just a few days ago, I covered the graduation exercises of the only night high school in the Eastern Visayas. Most of the graduates were working in different blue-collared jobs by day and went to class by night. Most of them were even older than I am while some, based on a person’s age, should have already been in college.



I felt goose bumps while I was listening to the speech of the class valedictorian who returned sincere gratitude to his teachers and to his Alma Mater, who, according to him accepted the rejects of the society. I felt shame for myself as he went on delivering his proud oration because I do not exactly remember the last time I was so thankful to my university.



The outpour of emotions went on when all the graduates went up the stage to render their graduation song. From where I stood, I saw clearly the pregnant 16 year-old girl whose toga gown could not help hide the mishap she got from her step-father. The next row behind her is where the 47 year-old woman, in a burgundy bob-cut, held hands with her closest classmate in class; I took photo of earlier in the ceremony where she received Class Service Award.



Some students were already crying, some just held their tears. But all of them nonetheless, looked righteously radiant in their white toga gowns, faceless before us and holding nothing for their future but pocketfuls of hope and unabashed willpower.



“I never dreamed that I will be here today. But today is my now and thank you for believing”, echoed in the air.
Right then I stopped taking photos. I just listened to their singing and marvelled to a real life spectacle happening before my eyes.



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This month I also turned another year older! (confetti and fireworks, included!)Perhaps that will explain why I am biased with March.(rofl!) No, I do not really celebrate my birthday. I mean, yeah I recognize it as the day for what it is, and of course I self-proclaim it that I get an all-access pass with anything and everything that day, devil may care! But its just that I think I am not a kid anymore to embellish some fancy on my birthday.



However, I am still thankful to the people who surprised me with a birthday cake, in the bedroom, just a minute after midnight, eve of my birthday,that is! I was in boxers already when they barged in, Mama Mia! Good thing I was not watching porn (bluff!) online that night! Que horror!



And then when I woke up the same morning, they prepared a sumptuous potluck of lechon, shrimp, kinilaw, grilled fish, BBQ…another birthday cake, black forest this time and a set of delectable flavors of ice cream. So sweet of these people. But I thought I just did not deserve the warm attention.



Anyhow, the day finished with a bang! And I found myself busily replying to all the birthday SMS’ I received since last night. Thank you pips!



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Collectively, March has been pretty blissful for me. I have had so many realizations, chance encounters, inadequacies and failures and happy thoughts in my pockets in this month alone. And I guess, it will suffice for now to keep me grounded and going.

cluttered thoughts

INK AND VAIN ASPIRATION

Come forth to my embrace you elusive wisdom

Let the ink of my pen mark another thing

Depart not from my miserable bones and flesh

You fame of the velvet curtain that waits amidst.

My chary hand scribbles the first words

Of an embarking ship to a voyage of no return.

The waves are gold and fine dusts are the bubbles

Of this navigator’s fate to the fervid abyss.

I wander my eyes to these aghast lines

And feel the beating of my blood in horror.

The honest clock must break the monotony

Of this night of my solitude and grief.

Let no one forbid my soaring with the eagles

And allow me to dream before I move on to my grave.

For my soul is beaten finer than dust

Borne to the wind to perish.

My ink has given me extreme thirst to pant like the deer;

To stab the green bushes and stand before the heights.

So let me then recognize my mighty prints into laurels

Or burn, instead, with me my will power to ashes.

I display and pour forth unfathomed speeches

To champion the footprints of my long-forgotten mentors

Who saw the world like a fragile sphere of heavens twisted.

Revising its fictions and authenticating the Apocalypse.

But if you just perceive the chariots and the horsemen

Yet not my arms which bent a bow of bronze.

Let then, instead, this victory be spared to the fools

Than for me to seek vengeance from a shallow heart.

_*_

NAKAW

Buksan mo ang isip kong tulog,

Nakahilata sa kasinungalingan

At hayaang kumawala hanggang

Sa dako pa roon.

Pilitin mong mamulat ako

Sa katotohanang

ang lahat ng ito

ay pawang hiram lamang.

At ang pagniniig nating ito

Sa loob ng magara mong

Revo

Ay karaniwang libog lamang

At talulot lang ng pangungulila

Sa iniirog

At hindi na mauulit pang muli.

_*_

Huling Gabi Ng Pagniniig Sa Lilimampu’t-pitong Araw Na Pag-irog

Buhatin mo ako ng may pagmamahal

At mahigpit an ikanlong

Sa iyong mga bisig.

Bayaan mong damhin ko ang init

Ng iyong balat

At ang mga masilakbo mong titig

Na tumatagos sa aking kaibuturan.

Himayin mo ng iyong masiil na mga halik

Ang bawat hibla ng aking pagkatao.

Magniig tayo

Hanggang maabot natin ang rurok

Sa marahan

At mapangahas na bawat pag-ulos.

Magpaulayaw tayo

Sa piling ng mga hamog

At sa balintataw ng buwang naninilip

At nagkukumubli sa ulap

Na para bagang nahihiya sa kanyang

Nasaksihan.

Hugutin mo ng walang kimi

Ang aking nalalabing limos na dangal

At pikit-mata kong susundan

ang anino ng iyong

pag-alis

patungo sa kanyang piling.

Pilitin mong huwag nang lumingon

Upang hindi mo masaksihan

Ang pagpatak ng mga luhang

Lalamunin lang ng gusot na panyong

Tangi kong alaala sa iyo.

_*_

HAIKU ATTEMPTS

The cold rain kissed the dry earth

Softening its cheeks

Like a homage to its own

_*_

The vain waves touched the sad shore

Painted it bright white

Drifting back to nothingness.

_*_