For M

Someone once said, "Art is how we decorate space, music is how we decorate time,"

But has anyone told you,
when you danced--
you spilled color
into every second,
broad brush strokes
on empty songs
--you made the world your canvas,
and you have changed us
for all time.

The Beautiful Years

In all those years

you loved me,

you loved me

for the way I smiled.

The way I smiled:

cheeks burning--

heart bursting out of my chest--

the moment I watched you dance,

and I knew then that I loved you.

The Beautiful Years that followed

engraved in my mind,

a million poems

I could never finish

writing in a lifetime,

because I loved you,

I loved you--

for the way you loved everyone

unabashedly, yet effortlessly

finding the good in all,

for the way your laughter

filled a room with an explosive,

contagious joy,

for the way you persevered

through failure, through pain,

you chose to push on.

Those Beautiful Years

filled with a thousand kisses,

a hundred thousand conversations,

a few precious minutes of holding you,

and singing to you while you slept--

worth a million poems

I could never finish

writing in a lifetime.

Shall I read them all to you

when we meet again?

I try not to believe in ghosts

I try not to believe in ghosts,
but I catch glimpses of them in the eyes
of men who once swore to love me.
Lives drained away, exhausted
from the mere sight of me--
small, insignificant--
Little silhouettes trapped in their dead irises.
Perhaps in their sleep,
I creep into the mind's nooks and crannies.
But when daytime comes,
they rub their eyes,
and blink away my haunting.
Ghosts are but spectres to be forgotten.
Stop believing in them,
and they will no longer exist.

Paper Hearts

Once, I gave you a hundred paper hearts
and asked my love to color them in,

because love did not need to tell apart

the paper cranes they should have been.

I should have wished to bring you home
aboard a thousand flightless cranes,

instead my love wrote a hundred poems
and sent them with you on paper planes.

Old Flame

The day began late, that one dark Friday,

the color of unease, the too-quiet grey

like the dead-ness in her unloved eyes

and the haze and ashes and goodbyes.

Who knew letters burned so slowly

when great fires and fleeing embers

do not blind when she remembers,

when smoke alarms have long cleared

with the fears and the mourning tears;

Meaningless, the grey remains,

trapped between monochrome days,

she counts her dampened heartbeats--

brisk footsteps in monotone streets.

3:00 A.M.

In the deathly quiet before the dawn

when the night is darkest

and the soul is most alone,

ghosts creep into the mind

and chain me to the witching hour.

They come in vivid color

the immortalized, memorized faces

in beautiful, idyllic places,

and reconstructed laughter--

always slowly fading away,

still draining into the years

of letters buried in drawers

and photos of strangers--

the constant reminders

of loss.

Sometimes I am convinced

to never sleep again

because tomorrow brings nothing back,

only new things to give away.

An invisible string ties my heart to a cloud

An invisible string ties my heart to a cloud
so I follow it wherever it goes;
it hovers high, and touches the sky,
goodbye, up and away, it flies.
The invisible string--it tugs and it pulls,
and tangles up into a knot,
but my cloud knows not,
for it knows not how,
how does a cloud slow down?
The string soon snaps, invisibly,
my cloud, it does not stop.
Though my heart bleeds,
it does not cry
for my heartless cloud and me.

No more

Love is a heavy, humid day.

He is sitting hunched over

his legs restless, anxious,

he does not move.

He makes no sound.

but I could reach out and touch him

and speak to him with kind thoughts and gentle words perhaps--

No. Love is a darkening sky.

He is drawing the curtains shut

his blank stare shielded, remote,

he always looks away.

He betrays no emotion.

though if I watch him long enough

and catch the sighs between every shallow breath perhaps--

No. Love is a flash of lightning.

He suddenly appears from far, far away

his smile tentative, blinding,

he comes and he goes.

He leaves no trace.

yet I could count the seconds

and wait with heart pounding for the sound of his return perhaps--

No. Love, he is gone.

The Unknowable Place

I left you behind, and walked away,
onward, onward for all 700 days
to the hopeful, new, unknowable place
except surely where you did not exist.
Did you look long once I turned my face,
did you decide to forget my name?
I glanced back once and you were there
lost but beautiful, forlorn but free,
looking everywhere, but not at me
--at surely where I will not be.
On into the unknowable, we swear,
what we were, I will not miss--
yet you still exist, and still the same,
you were there, where there is rain.

I saw you today

while dreaming in color,

but lay quiet, paralyzed,

I saw you with closed eyes.

From an old companion

The sun was out when it rained today,
when I wondered where you've been.

Grand adventures, and wondrous lands,
far greater than the places we've seen.

The trees have grown since we saw them last,
and I wondered if you've been well.

Fighting on, and chasing dreams,
Living the tales we used to tell.

The river still threatens to flood over,
so I wondered if you've been afraid.

Helpless, as the storm rages on,
Whoever shall come to your aid?

The seeds still dance in the wind when they fall,
I wondered if you've found your way home.

They say, "Journeys end in lovers meeting,"
I see, brave hero, you are no longer alone.

You: in photographs

As vivid as flame trees spitting red against a calm receiving sky,
Blood splatters-- or dark tears staining a light blue cotton shirt,
Destructive thoughts, wild and alive in a gentle, warm breeze,
And hands gripping imaginary hands before falling into dreamless sleep.

As slowly as ocean waves wash typhoon debris from the shore,
The rains clear the air of lingering ghosts from extinguished fires,
Mirrors can now gaze back with eyes, thankful and unafraid,
And fists unfurled for the southwest winds at summer's end.

As deliberate as hand-tinted daguerreotypes in art museums,
And objective distance framed by white marble floors and echoing walls,
The pauses that hang between the tales of old, world-weary souls,
Worth a thousand words that live in fond memory, forever left untold.

Dream

I had a dream that I drifted in
with no idea when, or how it begins.

There was once a time
a time when you smiled
sang love songs on your car radio
and drove us beneath starlit skies
then there were sunny days
when the wind sighed
spent walking along paths
strewn with windswept leaves
our fingers carelessly intertwined
yes, there was a time
I woke up to your smile
and tried to wipe the drool
off the sleeve of your jacket
or was it that time
you walked away and left
when all I wanted
all I wanted was to cry
but that, too, was the time
you came back and held me
all red and swollen up and ugly
nothing beautiful in me to find
you whispered, "You do know that I
would never, ever leave you behind."

Then I jerked awake, the stars were gone,
just empty black sky stretching on and on.

Versus

Let me embrace you with my time
and kiss you with my greetings
and touch you with my words
and love you with my self.

Let me fill you with my distance
and lose you with my goodbyes
and miss you with my dreams
and save you from my self.

For the first time again

There was a smell of sadness

in the air

in the cold

in the sudden

monsoon rains.

It chilled us to the bone.

No warmth left to breathe.

There was an unspeakable distance

in the conversation

in the silence

in the occasional

hesitant glances.

It stung our searching eyes.

No gaze left to hold.

Forgetting

The moment I open my eyes in the morning, I see traces of your smile in the afterglow. The light from the almost midday sun has burned away all remnants of tears into healthy sweat.

I fill myself up to the brim with the day's promises. Today I will be happy. And I am. It is easy to forget when there is nothing to remind me of you.

Night falls and I prolong the day until it succumbs. Alas, there is nothing left but the light in my mind where you dwell. You glow brighter when I close my eyes and even brighter when I dream.

And for a few hours again tonight I bathe in your light. And for a few hours again tonight I cry for the surreal.

Every night.

It is late at night, and I have nothing to do. I scroll down my Facebook news feed which contains photo after photo of pretty faces that never stop smiling. Smiling at their puppies, smiling at their boyfriends, smiling at their magnum bars, smiling at themselves in front of a mirror. There must be something better to do.

I glance at the first name on the top of my chat list. He isn't online anymore. He must have gone to bed. It is past his bedtime. I click on the second name instead. Hey, what are you up to? :) It takes him about 10 minutes to reply. Every single time. He never asks how I am.

I close the browser. It's 12:42 AM. I turn off the computer monitor and get up to get a glass of water. I come back to my desk and go back on Facebook. Nothing new. The left side of my head is starting to throb and feel heavy. It is getting late. I try to soothe my developing migraine by massaging my left temple. Kumusta naman? I can help you with that if you want. :D He still hasn't replied.

My mother gets up to shoo me off to sleep. If you're not doing anything useful, go to bed. I pretend I'm really interested in someone's new batch of lemon squares. She sighs. She gets up to turn off the lights herself. I blink at the bright white screen as my eyes get accustomed to the dark. He replied.

No na. Thanks though. :)

I can type in the dark. Oh, okay. :)

Hey. Matutulog na ako. :) Good night.

Oh. Okay. He goes offline.

Something starts to feel heavy in my chest. I glance at the first guy's name again. He is smiling at me from his tiny photo thumbnail. I click on his name. I scroll up to read the old conversations we had. He was always the first to say good night.

I think tonight is going to be another restless night.

Remember the Time

Remember the time
we whiled away
days and days that
lasted forever
or so we thought

Have you realized that
our lasts are about to begin,
and this first is about to end?

Remember the time
we will try to retrieve
hours and minutes and seconds lost
of hugs and walks and conversations
and tears and laughter and love

and then the silence
of forgetfulness.

We Take a Walk

The street lamp casts
shadows of the raindrops,
and of the umbrella,
against the hidden faces
of you and of me.

We shy away
from the goodness
of light and of rain,
and we hold firm
the flimsy shade
with warm, familiar hands
intertwined in uncertainty.

They say
footsteps fall
naturally into
synchronization
as two friends
walk along together.

We say
the same
of our hearts.

I used to know...

Lips that used to part and
unfurl into twin arches
of warm sun rays and auroras,
I haven't felt any
in a long time.

A voice that used to sing tuneless
songs again and again
in my silent head,
I haven't heard of
in a long time.

Eyes that used to light up and
glow with life
at the sight of me,
I haven't seen
in a long time.

Arms that used to span and
fill up dark trenches
of my heart,
I haven't been around
in a long time.

You haven't been around
in a long time.