sodden.

a song for the sodden loveless:
how can you tell being lost
in redeeming yourself
for as like losing your soul
that feels like no other

and there is no other..

better than reprisal
to appease my peace of mind.
twenty-seven minutes ago,
i swallowed the pain pills
of not talking to you
as it is not near you.
where should i begin?

the next drink tells tall tales:
the end is but unwaking to the sleep
i will always waver.
might there be someone or something
to lay my head in comfort
as it was in your lap?
maybe
and then some.

but you are a friend
and so much more when i needed one.
i pertain to the senselessless
of where i could
and should be.
only with thoughts
as waiting can only suffice
and silence
to scream mercilessly a tune,

and there is no other..
but a song for the solemn,
a song for the sodden.

tama.

kabilang sa landas ng pagsangayon
masyado madami nayosi
kalimutan mo na ang mabilisang panggising
kasi ang alam lang natin
ay ang magtago sa sariling tulog
tapos na ang pagkakamot ng ulo
tingin sa taas ka pa
gamot mo nga naman ay ang masilaw

ulul! kailangan mo din umidlip
tawagin na kita para mangumbida ng kakantutin mo
baba ka sa akin; atin 'tong
suliranin ng laman lang..

panahon na gumising at tamaan pa.
makinig ka..
tama itong pinapakinggan mo

memory.

i am unsatisfied
redeeming and destructive.

i am memory
estranged in sobreity.

i am the sweat
tasted dropped from your forehead.
i am the blood cut
from scratching your eyes.

i am a million fold
and so much more
for the cost of pathetic living.
time is mine to muster
in indefinite loneliness
and forsaken failures.

money, mileage, my love..
is what you do
as it gets somewhere to beg for it.
i am the sum
of accumulated rust spun under
this vessel

the crime of life
staring at the ceiling molds
smoking a cigarette
in between memories.

antasatanas.

antas ng pakiramdam
bulok ang aapakan parang tae
maangas ba ang lihim?
saan ka man kabilang
sa lungsod na may lilim..

bagsakan ng sarili ay ang inaaral
sa pawis galing sa sugat ng ibang mas-bobo:
akin man o sayo.

city.

never never will be "this way" again;
moments that laughter end.
hommunculus blooming.
tv to sleep.
intoxicated into intolerance.
an accident waiting but not happening.
elements of concepts undefined.
loveless and refined.
lost in a dogshit esquinita with patches of holes multiplying.
unproductive cathartic genuity..
it might feel like genocide
a swarm of ticks pitted against the channel 2 antenae.
oh hell, that 4-day hangover feels just fine.
next time
it wont be a tune
of garbage trucks a beloved might miss..

television.

wouldnt you feel
lackey in obedience
as good as speaking to listen..
what im trying to say
in this metro of caring cockroaches is:
the sound of toilet flushes
stand in relief to the demons everyone ought to be.
the music of mufflers
let me get by to sleep another friday

everyone will leave soon no less..
but let me get another drink.
lethe weaves me a loom to be doomed
not to tell money i changed my mind with.
can i get personal by saying it pays off somewhere?

blaming the heat might be a whole worse
than what you might think.

blah..blah..blah..
i love hating
and let me bring my television
to remember alice dixon
and that angel paris hilton too.