A Tale on Canvas
1995
Perhaps your brush
Imagined some youthful
cityscapes where fine
strokes of lifelines
and flirting colors
wrought tangible
dreams
I can paint only
if the dark wakes
my weary room
And yes,only
the brush drips
when I lift the
heavy pane. |
Trapped
1995
What remains
in every sheet
of leaf is grief;
before monsoon
swamps the roads,
we load sugarcanes
on the trucks
even as the sun
still sleeps
Until twilight hastens
my impatient feet
to gather firewood.
I have no more
time for my kite. |
Moonlight Dinner
1996
The lamp is unlighted
dampened by tears of children
embracing their mother's lap
Full of nothing
they ate a bitter
night of sleep
Their father's stare
hangs at the full moon
touched by many
elegant fingers
of the city
Upon his eyes
the moonlight melts
as he stomachs
the last remaining plate. |
Angel #1
2003
Fingers never
know how we touch
each others' heart
neither words
can find metaphors
to the space we share,
Speech may waver
and letters will cease
to truthfully weave from
our hectic hands
often truss by task
But something now
is there like a titian sky spilling
in the break of dawn
after yesterday’s drudgery,
that profound silence
our hearts speak
every time we meet
springtime heaves
in the fallowness of space. |
Angel #2
2004
Your coming
tells of a season
when sunset daubs
the palette sky in red;
spilling blossoms
of serendipity that
stains the restless
waves crashing
unto the rocks
goading a solitary
sail that wanders
in the far gray
horizon….
under the gypsy
clouds crossing
nameless continents
a lighthouse
kneels in silence
like a prayer
as darkness blurs
the seam between
earth’s twin reflection
leaving a trail of embers
shimmering along the shore
throbbing like my spirit
that yearns to burrows
in your bosom.
|
Angel #3
2005
Like an angel
in my dream
she touches me
exquisitely
like rain
that drowns
time in a deep
silver-sea…
longing
breathlessly,
I open my eyes
like a waken window
that embraces
the streaming light
of dawn
then her hands
gently fold
my thoughts
into paper boats
as we silently
sail away
from the lonely
shores of my world…
|
Kalye Onse
1993
Balisa ang gabi
sa aninong lumalawlaw
sa sinat na sindi
ng posteng bakal
May isang pintor
na nais kulayan
ang telon ng dilim
Tinuligsa ng halakhakan
ang unat ng daan
hanggang mapahagulgul
ang tilamsik sa butas
ng kanal
Walng ingus ang umug
na kandungan sa hagupit
ng pagkakasala
walang puwang ang lait
sa kanyang pangangalakal. |
Balakid
1994
Marupok ang hanging nagniig
sa saplotang gabi
Iilang patak lamang
ang tumilamsik sa mga labi
ng tanikalang tuyong lupa
Bungong-hubad kang nakahandusay
ang hininga mong hinuhugot
ng umaalimpuyong araw
Tanging alingawngaw
ng ginaw ng mga tupang ulap
na nagwisik ng likidong perlas
sa isang kisapan ang humaplit
ng halik sayo.
|
Sa Alon ng mga Gunita
1994
Sabak ng ngiting alumpihit
ang namimilipit na gitla sa iyong mukha
Hinahapulas, pinapanas ng malamig mong kamay
ang aninong sumisimsim sa naabo mong balat
Hinahapulas ang dilim ng may mayuming paggunita
sa namamaos na paghunos ng alon sa dalampasigan
unti-unting nanunumbalik ang mga gunitang
inagiw sa limot ng panahon
Singgalot ang apoy sa Cotabato na lumalagablab sa palayok
Katahimikan ay nanahan sa duyan ng sanggol sa mapagbantang panahon
Tuluyang nabulag ang bintanang tiwangwang sa pag aabang
at nanahimik sa pagbulyaw ang orasan
Sabak ng ngiting alumpihit ang namamanhid mo ng mata
Sabak ang butil-butil ng inuupos mong pag asa
Kandilang tumatangis sa dilim, anino ng sumisiphang hangin
Hahapulasin, hahapulasin ang dilim ng may mayuming paggunita!
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