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6.30.2005

Senryu

On 6/28/05 I wrote:

Sa sobrang lungkot ko feeling ko nagkaron ako ng haiku moment. ewan nga lang kung haiku ang lumabas.

His words were fingers
reaching out, squeezing
clawing at nothing

On 6/30/05 I got a reply:

Hi, stephie!

First of all, very nice poem. Ang lakas ng dating ng image sa akin. This is more of senryu (kasi human emotion and experience lang.)Pag may reference to something in nature (plants, animals, mountains,water, etc.), haiku.

But in my opinion, senryu is a special form or a subset ofhaiku. Many haiku are products of the school of thought that humans arealso part of nature... to which I agree.

roh mih

allvoices

6.29.2005

Hang Over


By: Anne Stephanie Cruz

There’s a certain comfort derived from each wave of nausea that passes; the lightheadedness, the after taste of regurgitated bile, insides churning and heaving as one doubles over and retches—only to barf air.

It’s reassuring to smell cigarette smoke in my hair, stray locks sticking to a forehead slick with sweat, traces of nicotine clinging to thumb and forefinger the morning after.

The dry mouth, a reeling head and senses struggling out of stupor are easier to account for than the how’s or why’s of inebriation. There’s no sober explanation for finding solace in a cloud of smoke and a shot of tequila--why laughter flows jigger after jigger, and inhibitions are released by hastily drawn puffs of strawberry-flavored cigarettes.

Cherry red polished fingernails bitten to the quick, tracing half circles on maple-varnished tables. Making love to Jose Cuervo, sucking in DJ Mix, we are an unholy trinity of vice passing time, purple eyes keeping watch as the black crow of the evening exits to dawn.

If only I’d wake up feeling sick, unable to remember the bitter taste old heartbreak left in my mouth. How I wish I could spew out minced words and cutlets of memories and just flush, flush, flush. But I’m one of the cursed few who never get hung over.

Tough luck.

allvoices

6.24.2005

Gerry's Cup of Melancholy


*my "extra challenge" for the day. Lost in translation at some points. Hehe.


My cup is a far a cry from the concoctions enjoyed
by the likes of you with discriminating palates.

I do not even come close to par, I admit
for I thrive in this simplicity:
hot water boiled in an old soot-caked kettle
from which I melt brown sugar
then add Café Puro.
On lucky days there’s a hint of Abrasa milk ,
if none, I make do.

That’s it.

This cup is enough to keep me company
as my mind sleepwalks
in the wakefulness of evenings such as this
when I dwell on love,
watered down by the passing of time
and ponder why silenced heartbeats
can’t be drummed back to life,
even by the very last drop of this bitter brew.


A.S. Cruz

6.24.05




La Tasa Dolorosa


By: Gerry Rubio, PP to!

(para ki Steph, asin saiyang pag-iriba, for their rendezvous at coffee shops that sparked penchant for poetry)

Harayo sa pagnamit nindo an sakuyang timpla,
Kamo, na igwang mga dilang metikulosa.

Mayo sa kalingkingan, inaako ko,
Simple lang ini: tubig na mainit,

Pinakala-kaga sa luma na asin oringon na takuri,
Tutunawon an asukar na brown (o pula?),

Asin Cafe Puro, buda kun sinusuwerte, gatas na Abrasa.
Kumpleto na, iibahan na ako kan sakuyang tasa,

Sa paglakaw kan sakuyang isip,
Sa kamatanga-an nin banggi, na ako gimata.

Linalamayan ko ang pagkamoot, na sa kahaluyan
Nin panahon, padagos nang na remata.

Dai pa mabubuhay pa ang dating kala-kaga nin daghan,
Higupon ko man ang ultimong tagdo nin matap-haw kong timpla.

allvoices

6.23.2005

My first published poem in 12 years!


Ahh my dear Emong, you said anywhere I go is mine. I think this is the cornerstone from which I will build the rest of my dreams. Thank you PP and to Francis, my angel, for believing in me.

http://you.inq7.net/express/06222005/exp3-1.htm

allvoices

Caffe Latte

We are all given the ingredients of happiness, but the mixing is left to ourselves. – Ethel M. Dell

Standing hand in hand
you turn to me as the barista asked
what will it be?
Venti Latte, as always,
was my warm reply.

Your eyes probed mine in question,
espresso brown fingers
swirling over my milky white ones
Why not plain café au lait?
you ask,
saying that's all latte is anyway.

To you,
who sees coffee as just beverage
that may be so.
But that's not how I taste it.

Unsparing lovers prefer latte over anything else.

You see I am milk,
and you the rich brew
I must constantly empty myself into-
the single shot of espresso
forever waiting for me
to fill the entire cup.

We are latte
café au lait is half and half.

A.S. CRUZ
6.23.06

allvoices

6.21.2005

Pagtawid


Nakakainis!
Hanggang ngayon takot pa rin akong tumawid

parang lagi kasi akong masasagasaan
o mahahagip.

Simple lang naman diba
lilingon sa kanan,
titingin sa kaliwa bago hahakbang.
Tatantyahin muna
kung kailangang bilisan
o pwedeng dahan dahan lang
ang paglakad patungo sa kabila.

Pero ba’t saksakan pa rin ako ng duwag?
Minsan nakaabante na
tatakbo pa pabalik,
sa kabagalan at pagdadalawang isip
susunduin na lang at kakaladkarin.

Gusto ko laging may kasabay sa pagtawid.
Sigurista na kung sigurista
eh anong magagawa ko,
sa takot akong mabundol no!
ang paniwala ko,
mas mabuti ang ligtas kesa padalus-dalos.

Kampante akong nag aantay sa sidewalk nang dumating ka
buhat nuon nabawasan ang takot ko sa pagbaybay sa kalsada.

Pakiramdam ko handa na akong iwan
ang bangketa ng pagkakaibigan
sabi kasi nila nag aantay ka lang na umusad ako pakabila.

Walang lingun-lingong sumugod ako patawid,
Kahit nangangatog ang tuhod
tumakbong ubod bilis.
Pero huli na nang makita ko

ang ilaw na kulay pula.

Paksyet! Hit and run ka lang pala.

allvoices
Friday, May 20, 2005

PINOY POETS RENGA: Smoke

Smokes billows above my head tonight;
A scene inside the movie house of the past

flashing in my mind like a record machine

Overloaded with involuntary flashes

Of filmy fantasies:Rain that does not wet the hair,
bubbles,floating like flies.

Would you stop me if I stare?

With just one click of the finger

Nothing moves, open mouth caught in mid-laugh

That look likes hungry mouths.

Then another click.

They ate light from the flash

engulfed in blinding stillness.
The time when memories fade,
flickers of laughter and sorrow
encapsulated on canvass of thoughts

And shades.

allvoices

6.17.2005

Sisa

Ngalan mo’y Sisa
ngunit kailanma’y di ka haharap sa madla
nang nakayapak, nanlilimahid.

Bagamat gulagulanit ang isip,
baliw na sa pangungulila,
di lalaboy para hanapin sina Crispin at Basilio
sa mga lansangan ng Maynila
(paano’y edukada ka,
titulada)


Tableta, iniksyon,
ilampung oras ng konsultasyon
ito ang alam mong lunas sa pabalik balik na mga bangungot,
sa paghiyaw maski ng pusong bato sa’yong palasinsingan:
“Ina ka, Ina ka!”


Nang-uusig ang salamin,
nanunumbat pati dingding
uyayi’y ibulong man sa hangin wala nang tengang papansin
(paano’y pilit, ensayado,
pag-aaruga mo’y tubog sa ginto)

Ipinagyabang pa sa anino:
kailanma’y di luluhod ang isang Ina,
kapag suwail ang mga anak
pwes palayasin at alisan ng mana!
pag nakatikim ng hirap
tyak babalik at babalik rin sila.

Ngunit heto ka,
muling nilulunod ng alak
mga nilunok na kataga.

Sa Mandaluyong ka na naman dadatnan ng umaga.


A.S. Cruz
6.16.05

allvoices

6.15.2005

Pinoypoets’ Anniversary Night @ Conspiracy

If you’re a writer, a poet, an artist or simply a lover of literature, better block off Tuesday, June 28 on your social calendar. Pinoypoets (PP), an online community of literary enthusiasts, will be holding its first anniversary bash at Conspiracy Bar in Quezon City.
The event, dubbed PP ‘to!(The Pinoypoets’ First Anniversary), promises to be an evening filled with laughter, music, and of course, excellent poetry. Prominent social, academic, and literary figures Makati Rep. Teddy Locsin Jr, Conchitina Cruz, Vin and Kris Dancel, Noel Del Prado, Joyce Burton Titular, Enrico John Torralba, Hannah Romawac, Roli Inocencio, Nerissa Del Carmen Guevarra, Monica Llamas and Gary Granada, are but a few of our guest readers.
The celebration will also be highlighted by performances from G-Strings, 10kpp, Rubberband, Johnoy Danao of Bridge, Paramita, and Hannah Romawac of Session Road.
Pinoypoets is a community of poets, writers and literary enthusiasts who share their works, thoughts and insights on poetry. Formed by less than 50 members in June 2004, Pinoypoets has grown to 250 members based in different regions of the country---and even abroad. Its primary objective is to facilitate a creative forum and enrich its members' knowledge and craft.
Michael Coroza, Edgar Samar, Santiago Villafania, Louie John Sanchez, Eileen Tabios, Bino Realuyo and Jema Pamintuan, some of the most respected names in Philippine poetry today, are the group’s consultants and critics.
PP ‘to!(The Pinoypoets’ First Anniversary), will start at 8 p.m. Admission is FREE!

allvoices

6.14.2005

Depression

**for all of us who have been here at some point and learned from the experience.

If you ask me where I am right now
i’ll say somewhere between teardrops and a smile
it’s a sanctuary I run to at times
to empty myself,
collect half-sighs
untangle my emotions from its pretzel state—
detoxify.

Here,
cobwebs are magnified and admired,
its intricate pattern of silk, beautiful
compared to my own tattered web:
a maze of marred signals,
intertwined issues unresolved to this day,
with me hardly able to keep it together.

It’s a good place though,
lets you slowly sink to the bottom
thoughts free to bounce on down feather pillows,
drifting
floating in a womb of meaningless dreams
until you decide to get up,
snap out of it
and rejoin the world of the living.

I do not come here to command time,
I’ve frozen each day I care to replay
like a newsreel
because I want to, I still need to
wallow in oblivion,
dwell on my indecisions
savoring the bliss of temporary ignorance
because I choose to.

My feet have yet to touch solid ground.

A.S. Cruz
6.13.05

allvoices

6.13.2005

The Apple Tree


By: Stephie

There was a huge grin on your face when you showed it to me yesterday---a precious souvenir from America that you hope will take root here in your native soil. Nothing more than a twig really, with but a few newly sprouted leaves. You said you soaked it in water for 48 hours, just to see if it will live.

I almost laughed, who would be crazy enough to plant apple trees in this hot, humid climate? While everyone else has papaya and guava trees, you want to grow apples in our front lawn.

Then again, we have English roses in the garden-- their life spans a lot shorter than locally grown ones, but still, you water and tend these flowers like they were given to you by the Queen herself. In full bloom, the red, white and yellow roses are quite sight...except that they wilt too quickly, way before nosy neighbors could have a chance to stare and admire their beauty.

Now, you planted an apple tree, another piece of the American Dream you try to take home everytime you fly in from Los Angeles. The whole house already smells and feels American eventhough we live in the middle of verdant rice fields in Bulacan.

I remember you saying its best to live away from the city because life in America was already too fast and too frantic for you. How come you still bring back a part of that life in huge balikbayan boxes and LBC crates? Everything from curtains to plates! You didn't miss anything. Even our fabric softener and dishwashing paste comes from the States, or, we get the American brands when we shop at Waltermart.

Would you want us to start picking our own apples, Dad? I wanted to ask as I see you hunched over the scraggly twig. Sweating profusely under the harsh sun, you planted the cutting in fertile ground, carefully selecting a shady portion in the garden.

Apple trees gives good shade, you reassured me. You could have planted a Talisay.

And then softly, with the hum of the vacuum running on high speed, you tell me you're flying back again to LA before Christmas.

allvoices

6.12.2005

Dreamcatcher


Message Received: "I know the feeling, tried poetry too when I was young but got busy earning a living. Now I lost the touch. Go ahead, soar. Catch the dream."

There it hangs by my bedpost,
a silent guardian more than two decades old.
Faded by moonbeams and starlight,
Its deerskin mottled like your own hands
wrinkled by chalk dust and long nights spent drafting lesson plans.

Though dulled by age
the dream catcher’s yellow feathers served me well
propelling childhood fantasies to dizzying heights:
the glory of the byline, the limelight
I savored fully as my dream catcher
battled nightmares of pale faced mothers
who tried to torment me.

Never let go of the dream, you would always say
as I watch you pore over the day’s crossword puzzle.
Your morning cup of coffee grows stale but you don’t care
too engrossed with plotting letters on those tiny squares.

Time had been kind,
but it extinguished the fire in your eyes.
Remember how we loved to gaze at starry, starry nights?
Now we just look at Van Gogh in the living room,
a dream nailed onto a frame
begging for release
much like all the unbirthed verses you still keep.

If only I could,
I’d catch the moonbeams that once danced in your eyes
and for a moment lend you the sweetness of the dream
you lovingly and unselfishly gave up
so I could live out mine.

*Legend has it that dream catchers filter nightmares with a spider web of sinew and preserve a child’s innocence by allowing only good dreams to pass through. Feathers attached to the dream catchers are meant to assist the flight of good dreams. This one’s for my dream catcher on his 54th birthday….I love you Daddy.

June 7, 2005

allvoices

Pamamaalam

By: Stephie

Huwag ka sanang magtatampo kung ilang araw mula ngayon magpaalam ako bilang anghel mo. Hindi naman ako nangakong sasamahan kita habang panahon. Huwag din sanang ikasama ng loob mo ang hindi ko na pagtawag sa'yo, pati na rin ang matabang na pagsagot ko sa bawat pangungulit mo sa akin sa opisina.

Nagkamali ako. Hindi pala natin pwedeng ipagkibit balikat ang lahat at mag astang walang nagbago sa pagkakaibigan natin. Akala ko pwede nating dayain, na magagawa nating kalimutan ang kung anong naramdaman natin ng gabing iyon sa isla, pero lulan din pala ng barkong pabalik ng Maynila ang mga alaala ng duyan sa ilang.

Iniwasan nating magkita ng halos dalawang buwan at napaniwala natin ang lahat na sadyang abala lang tayo sa samutsaring gawain kaya hindi nila tayo nakikitang magkasama. Binalak nating lumabas nung minsan, pumayag ako kahit kinakabahan, pero buti na lang ikaw na rin ang naunang umatras.

Hindi pa ako handang makita ka. Ayokong tumingin sa mga mata mong naghahanap at naghihintay ng tugon. Nababasa ko ang mga tanong kahit hindi mo bigkasin, dama sa bawat buntong hininga ang pagpipigil ng damdamin at talos ang pag amin na walang kahihinatnan ang sitwasyong kinasasadlakan natin.

Hindi ako manhid. Naramdaman ko ang higpit ng yakap at init ng haik sa pisnging iginawad mo sa akin bilang pagbati.. Alam kong tumulay rin sa iyong katawan ang bolta boltaheng kuryenteng gumulat sa akin. Kapwa tayo natigilan at ang katahimikan ng ilang sandaling iyon ay binasag lamang ng kabog nang ating mga dibdib.

Nalilito ako. Nakakaramdam ng takot at pangamba, pinipilit bigyan ng rason at paliwanag ang lahat ng nakikita ko at naririnig mula sa'yo. Bakit hindi natin maiwasang maghawak kamay habang nag uusap? Bakit yumuyuko ako kapag nakikita kong pinagmamasdan mo ako na tila gusto mong sauluhin ang bawat sulok ng aking mukha?

Siguro, tulad ko, naririnig mo rin ang bawat tick tock ng orasang gusto nating takasan. Kung maaari lang sanang hilahin ang mga segundo at hadlangan ang napipintong pagwawakas ng kwentong tayo ang pangunahing nagsisiganap. Kaso hindi pwede. Sa ayaw natin at sa gusto, kailangang magtapos ang palabas na ito. Lamang, may iiyak sa pagsasara ng telon.

Ipahintulot mo sanang ako na ang magpaalam. Payagan mo na akong lumayo bitbit ang masasayang alaala ng pagkakaibigang iningatan ko at minahal. Ayoko nang hintayin pang mapatid ang gahiblang sinulid na tinawid natin sa isla.

Aalis na ako bago mahuli ang lahat. Ayokong abutan ng liwanag mo ang puso kong nagkukubli sa dilim.

allvoices

Lukewarm

*an experimental piece. Actually, Im not sure if this can be counted as a poem. :)

A cracked tooth
from sipping hot chocolate
followed by ice water
leaves me wondering
how you can scald my tongue
with lukewarm affection

Stephie 6.03.05

allvoices

Kumot

Ni: Anne Stephanie Cruz

Humupa na ang alinsangan ng magdamag,
naririnig na muli ang pagaspas ng mga dahong
isinasayaw ng malamig na hanging umiihip, sumisilip,
nanunubok bago tuluyang magpawala ng ginaw.

Sa mga gabing tulad nito masarap magbalot ng kumot,
maglunoy sa himbing ng pagtulog
dulot ng makapal na telang yumayakap sa buo kong pagkatao.

Payapa ang isip,
panatag na babaybayin ang daigdig ng panaginip
kahit pa nagdadabog ang mga patak ng ulan sa bubungan.

Dati rati'y hanap ka sa tuwing magbabadya ang unos,
nakaugaliang sumukob sa mga bisig mong tila kumot---
noong una'y pumapawi ng takot, kumakalinga
kalaunan, siya rin palang sasakal at kikitil sa laya.

Maging ang puso natuturuan ding mamaluktot,
kapag nababad sa mahabang tag-ulang walang kumot.
Mangatal man ang laman sa lamig ng pag-iisa,
'di na nanaisin ang ika'y muling magbalik pa.

allvoices

Gisadong Pansit


Magluluto ako ng pansit
dahil kaarawan ni Inay.
Ayon kasi sa kasabihan,
pampahaba daw ‘to ng buhay.

Maaga akong bumangon,
ngumiti, gumayak para manindahan.
Kailangan maging espesyal
paboritong ihain pa naman.

Inihanda lahat ng rekado:
mga gulay ginayat ng maninipis;
mga lahok—baboy, manok, laman loob
hinimay at hiniwang maliliit.

Sumasagitsit habang iginigisa
bawang, sibuyas, sa kumukulong mantika
Nakatatakam na halimuyak
Naglalagos sa buong kusina.

Ngunit bakit sa bawat pagluluto ng pansit
bumabalong ang mga alaala?

Ang panimplang patis at pansabaw na tubig
sing-alat at sinlalim ng mga luha.
Ang paminta, maaanghang na salitang
hindi napigilang kumawala;
Sabaw na pinakulo ng mahabang panahon
di mapalambot mga pusong tikom.

Unti-unting inilalagay ang bihon
iniingatang huwag lumabsa.
Tulad ng bawat paglapit ko,
nangingiming muling mapahiya.

Luto na ang paboritong pansit ni Inay,
bagong hango at umuusok pa.
Pinagpagurang lutuin ngayong kaarawan niya,
pero tulad ng dati,
kakanin ko na namang nag-iisa.

May 21, 2005

Happy Birthday Mommy

allvoices

Rainmaker

by: Stephie

And we angels wept, so you say,
that’s why we have rain.

Everyday
you look to the sky and pray
begging with closed eyes and outstretched hands
smiling in expectant faith.

Bliss for roses as it is balm to cracked lips
rain is an age-old benediction,
(again you say),
as natural as man’s need for a sense of belonging.

Soon,
(so you tell me)
God will open heaven’s floodgates
and anoint you with sacred drops,
(albeit displeased that you still dip your tongue
in communal puddles).

Not a dark cloud in sight, still
you believe rain will come: your heaven sent---
one final shower of blessings
to purge you of life’s bitterness

Like you, I too dream of rain;
to drown in a downpour of mercy
far thicker than my angel tears.

But you have bled me dry,
so I choose to intercede,
sanctifying your prayers for rain
though I’ve been weeping for you for years.

allvoices

HAMOG


**I will always, lovingly refer to this poem as my fistborn.

Sinabi mo,
tinipong luha ng mga tulad kong anghel ang ulan.
Pagpapalang pinabubuhos ng Lumikha
pandilig sa tigang na lupa.
(Minsan,
pambanlaw din sa nanlilimahid na kaluluwa).

Humihiling kang umulan
nang maski papano'y maibsan
ang init at alinsangang kasiping mo sa magdamag.
Mga banayad na patak,
mumunting daliring hahaplos sa nangungulila mong kalamnan.
Masusuyong halik, matatamis na ngiti,
dadaloy sa natuyot nang gunita.

Paano’y kaytagal na (sabi mo),
buhat ng huling umulan.
Gayumpaman,
nananalig ka, nanampalataya,
Darating siya sa itinakdang araw ng Ama,
at magbabago ang lahat.

Tulad mo,
ako rin, naninikluhod na umulan.
Buong hinagpis na tumatawag ng kidlat at hangin,
Anghel na nagmamakaawang lunurin na ng langit.

Ihihingi kita sa Kaniya ng tagapaghatid ulan.
Dahil sabi mo,
sa isanlibong buhos na iniluha ko,
hindi ka nakasumpong ni manipis na hamog.

A.S.Cruz
Revised May 17, 2005

allvoices

Duyan

By: Anne Stephanie Cruz

Kung tutuusin, walang sapat na dahilan para malungkot ako. Hindi ako dapat bumubuntong hininga ngayon at iniisip ka. Nanghihinayang na wala ka na at nami- miss yung dating kakulitan at paglalambing mo sa’kin. Gusto kong isiksik sa isip ko na hindi ka kawalan, na madami pa naman akong ibang kaibigan. Pero bakit nanghihinayang ako at hinahanap kita?

Dalawang araw na ang nakakaraan pero eto pa rin ako, paulit-ulit pa ring nire-replay ang mga eksena sa isip ko, pinipilit i-trace kung saan nagsimula, o sino ang may sala. Yun bang isang case na San Mig Light? Yung Malboro Reds na nagkanda ubo ubo ako sa paghithit pero sinadya mong bilhin para dalain ako? Yun bang pagkukuwento ko sa’yo sa mga nangyari sa buhay ko nung ilang buwang hindi tayo nagkita at nag usap? Yun bang daring na dress na sinuot ko nang gabi? O yung makitid na duyan na hinigaan natin sa ilalim ng mga bituin?

Tumatahip na ang ulo ko sa kaiisip pero wala pa ring malinaw na sagot. Ang alam ko lang, magkaibigan tayong matagal-tagal na hindi nakapag bonding. Hindi naman bago sa atin ang mag marathon nang inuman, diba nung huling outing nga inabot tayo ng alas singko sa labas, halos anurin tayo nang ga- higanteng mga alon sa Anilao? Anong pinagkaiba nang Sabado nang gabi sa lahat ng araw na magkasama tayo at magkausap?

Bakit sa gabing iyon pinili mong talikuran ang pagkakaibigan natin? Sa ilalim ng itim na kalangitang sinabuyan ng mga bituin, sabay sa marahang pag ugoy nang duyan at sa pag iyak nang kung anong ibon sa ilang. Gusto kong isiping lasing ka lang, o nalulungkot. Ayokong lagyan nang kulay at bigyan ng ibang dahilan ang paglapat ng mga labi mo sa akin. Na paulit ulit mong inuusal ang salitang “sorry” at naiinis ka na sa sarili mo pero hindi ka rin naman lumalayo at patuloy ka pa rin sa paghingi ng halik.

Sabi nila kapag tinawid na ang gahiblang sinulid na naghihiwalay sa magkaibigan, mahirap nang bumalik. Dati hindi ako naniniwala dito, pero ngayon nakikita kong totoo. Ni hindi mo na makuhang tumingin sa akin kinabukasan,at ni ayaw mo akong kausapin. Nag text ka minsan para sabihing patawarin kita at nami miss mo ako, pero pagkatapos nun, parang hindi mo na ako kilala.

Pinatawad naman kita. Sabi ko kalimutan mo na yon. Hindi naman napakalaking kasalanan ng pag halik mo sa akin…pero sinabi mong manhid ako.

Sa tinagal tagal nang pagkakaibigan natin ngayon mo lang ako tiniis. At hindi ko lubusang maunawaan kung bakit. Siguro dala ng hiya sa ginawa mo, o pagkapahiya na hindi ako nagpaubaya. Sorry kung nasaktan ko ang “ego” mo. Pero mas pinahahalagahan ko yung pagkakaibigan natin.

Madami ring tanong na tumatakbo sa isip ko, may mga maliliit na eksenang pilit kong hinahanapan ng kahulugan…tulad ng marahang paghaplos mo sa mukha ko, o paghagod sa buhok ko. Sa paghawak mo nang mga kamay ko at pagsasabing ipanatag ko ang loob ko dahil nandito ka. Na wala akong dapat ikatakot dahil hindi mo ko pababayaan. Na sa gabing iyon, ako ang prinsesa mo.

Hindi ko rin maipaliwanag kung bakit nakaramdam ako ng katahimikan ng hagkan mo ako sa noo at sabihing babantayan mo ako sa pagtulog at gigisingin bago sumikat ang araw. Yun pala, pagdating nang liwanag, mawawala ka na…yung dating ikaw na kilala ko.

Siguro nga hindi ko makakalimutan ang islang ito. Maraming magandang ala ala, magagandang lugar na nakita, mga bagong kakilala…dito ka rin nawala. Dito, sa tabi ng kakahuyan, saksi ang mga alon at batuhan, nabahiran ng malisya ang dating inosente at masaya nating pagkakaibigan. Paano na ngayon bro? Ni hindi ko na makukuhang umakbay o yumakap sayo, matatakot na ako dahil baka bigyan mo ng ibang kahulugan. Sabagay, ni hindi nga pala tayo nag uusap.

Manhid na kung manhid. Pero ma miss ko yung paglalambing mo. Yung pagdadala mo nang kung ano anong pagkain sa opisina para sakin, yung pagtawag para kamustahin lang ako o paalalahanan na umuwi nang maaga. Hahanapin ko yung pag te-text mo ng gud nyt at pag p pray mo sa akin tuwing Miyerkules kapag nagsisimba ka sa Baclaran.


Ma mi miss kita, may isang daan at isang dahilan kung bakit Sana lang, dumating ang araw na harapin mo akong muli, kapag nakalimutan mo na ang iyak ng mga ibon sa ilang, ang hampas ng mga alon sa batuhan at ang pag ugoy ng duyan sa isla.

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Bubbles


** Written after Sandcastles II sometime around March 2004

By: Stephie

When uncertain, we drift to the familiar
Drawing comfort in the past.
Doubt pushes fickle minds to double back,
Claw at once-have-been's
Stretching memories until they bend, rend, and tear out of shape.

The past, with its spinning images and nameless faces
Too familiar to forget but too vague to polarize with a date and
place,
It reminds us of heartbeats that once raced and pulsed
Then flat- lined altogether.

We cannot learn to unforget.
There's no way to undo the hurt
nor erase scars that have begun to fade.
We must stop picking at scabs lest we bleed again,
profusely this time,
leaving us unable to heal.

Living on moments is a prerogative of the brave,
It's a gamble where stakes double by the hour
And you risk losing what to you is most precious and few.

These are just bubbles, I know:
Borrowed snippets of eternity,
Fragments saved in a fragile capsule,
Scenes in my mind's eye replayed from time to time.
But, they're the only company I keep in the empty moments.

Let them be.

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Sandcastles II


**The original sandcastles was written 11 years ago for someone very dear to me. He and I met again in March 2004. I won't tell the story...read on.....

Sunset…..walking on the still warm sand
My feet sinking in this powdered paradise
Sea gulls crying, birds hovering low
My eyes strain to look at the far stretch of shore

I see a familiar flag flapping in the wind
On top of a sandcastle proudly standing in the middle of the beach
where we once walked hand in hand,
far too many sunsets ago.

Like all that was ours, that sandcastle was washed away
Swallowed by angry currents
forever lost in the ocean depths..

Until today….


The small red flag was a summons
Drawing me to the sandcastle
Bearing the familiar patterns… crafted slowly, lovingly
By the same hands that once held me

Could it be that you are here too
Taking the same familiar walk
Breathing the same air
Watching the same sun that set upon us 10 years back

If I find you on the other end of the shore
will it ever be the same?
Could a journey 10 years back be enough
To build a new sandcastle ?

Will it be, this time, strong enough?
Or, will it once again crumble
At the first crash of waves?

If we are to build on nothing but memories…
Remnants of sand washed inland by our first sandcastle..
Warmed by the afterglow of love’s old flame,
Rekindled briefly by passion…

It would be empty…

Casting one last longing look,
I caressed the battered red flag and turned away.
As I taste the salty spray of sea and tears on my face
I head back to where I came from…

A safe place that has forgotten you..

Where memories of sunsets and beaches have long faded
and sandcastles remain buried
in this heart’s ocean.

A.S. CRUZ

March 17, 2004

allvoices