Poverty

 

Poverty touched my hands today

He smiled and gripped my arms

Asking for just one meal

 

Will I give out of generosity

Or will I give out of guilt

Why do they have no options, while I have mine.

 

Poverty touched my hands today

And it cracks the aqua colored fiber of my oblivion.

 

 

 

 

 

Halo-Halo Poetry

Halo – Halo literally mix- mix is composed of shaven ice and sweetened fruits and beans.  If special, it has an ice cream.  Halo-halo is also a metaphor of the culture of the Filipino.  The more, the merrier.  I wrote a poetry in honor of this favorite concoction.  I think, halo-halo is the epitome of the Filipino’s penchant for sweets and cold food, a hit during summer days.

 

Ang Pagkain ng Halo-Halo

 

Ang pagkain ng espesyal na halo-halo ay katulad ng pag-ibig

Kainin muna ang nasa taas

Ice cream, leche flan o minatamis na langka

Huwag hayaang matunaw ang ice cream.

Baka malusaw ang pag-ibig at di mo manamnam

 

 

Haluin ang yelo at ang ibang sangkap

Tikman ang asukal kung tama na

Hindi sobra, hindi kulang

Upang di matunaw ang yelo na may gatas,

kainin agad

Huwag patagalin

Pag nahanap mo na ang pag-ibig, huwag nang pakawalan

 

Ang mundo niyo ay makulay gaya ng mga sangkap

Walang iniwan, walang dapat itapon

Pagkat lahat ay bumubuo sa inyong kuwento.

You Are Salt

IMG_1534

 

You are like salt with sourness

This sourness I devour

In your arms,

In your breasts

In your shoulders as wide as the sea.

 

And as we dive into the deep recesses of the

sea

We found the most beautiful pearl among the creatures

Of the forest at the bottom of the sea,

With unclasped hands

Our arms stretched to the sky.

 

 

That Thing Called Serendipity

Was it serendipity when we met
And left
Were friendship carved in stones

Those epistles speaks of fondness
While you were in a different shore
Two continents facing each other
like two crescent moon.
The unforgetable exchanges
of  memoirs in foreign land
Where you go deep

in the physical jungle
And me in the corporate jungle

Is it also a matter of choice
And of voice to
speak our truths and
speak what our hearts content

In the stillness of silence
Our hearts are yearning
Our eyes speaks deep love’s longing

But how did you allow free fall also
to rule what should have been
between us?

Was it also a matter of choice?