Delusions

I love to imagine things. I really love to imagine how far my love for you would go if I was right. I love to dreamĀ of you and me. But still, when I was imagining things about you, There was a picture of words that were continuously coming back and forth And those words are,… Read More

Nightmares

It was a night of oblivion Obscurity and misconception. The sky painted with deep blue black With its flickering stars. The moon is hiding her beauty In the midst of dreary clouds. And I saw you in my paper When I am writing a poem. My eyes blurted Through lines and letters. And it turns… Read More

Ikalimang Kabanata: Sa Pagitan

Paano natin isusulat ang mundong walang kasiguraduhan? Sa pagitan ba ng bawat linya ay paiibigin ko ang aking letra? At nang mapunan nito ang mga espayo, Upang makabuo ng liriko at melodiya ng pagmamahal. Paano natin sisimulan ang isang pangungusap na hindi malaman kung anong letra ang unang ilalagak? Na siyang magdudulot ng galak at… Read More

Ikatlong Kabanata: Pag-amin

May aaminin ako. Mahal kita. At mula sa dalawang salitang ito nabuhay ako. Nabuhay ang pagkataong kinain ng kawalan at naipatianod sa kalawakan. Sumibol ang laman at kalamnan ng ‘di kasiguraduhan, At namatay ang nasirang kakuluwa na dulot ng sangkatauhan. May aaminin ako. Mahal kita. At mula sa mga katagang iyan ay muling umiibig ang… Read More

Sa Ikapitong Gabi

Magsimula tayo. Subalit, hindi ako sigurado kung may sisimulan ba tayong kuwento. O lumilikha lamang tayo ng libro ng prosa upang magmukhang kapani-paniwala ito. Magsimula tayo. Ngunit saan ako magsisimula? Sa pagbilang mula isa hanggang pito? Sa pagbigkas ng bilang isa hanggang tatlumpu’t dalawa? O sa pagbilang mula isa hanggang limampu’t walo? Nakakatakot magsimula, gamit… Read More

Dead Stars

Are stars really our dead loved ones? ***** Perhaps, the galaxy is a crowded locus of love and heartbreak. It was the site of tears and oblivion — of every core who twinkles because of faded hue about the past. I have this unusual fond toward stars. It reminds me of my loved ones who runs… Read More

Poetry

I want to be a poet. But it seems poetry does not want me as her writer. I put my pen on the tattered paper of love, yet no words bleed — no words of affection and forgiveness exploit. It was the soul who gives life to someone else’s poems but for me, it was only… Read More