Stream of consciousness


What are we going to do with all this love?

I ought to call it mine.

But honestly I ought to scratch the sky open

and dream something worth writing down

and work a miracle rather than pleading for one

and listen to the song that breaks my own heart

and feel so much something in me explodes

and do a lot of things

I might never do.

I’m left seeing blue in half a world,

I am not here to beat as loud as she does,

she breathes in a window and blows out a supernova.

as she pulls from me I feel the lifeline stretch.

We turn to dust, to gold,


she glitters the same.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/14/17

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Love and Music

I don’t know what love is. 
I can’t see love with my eyes. 
I stumble around looking for it. 
But finally, I found it. 

Hello my angel! 
How did you steal my heart? 
I want to talk to you. 
Can you listen to me once? 

I remember the day. 
You are singing on the stage back then. 
BPM is around 143. 
From head to toe, you captivate me. 

Your voice that scatters in the wind. 
Your beautiful voice that I hear. 
Comes spreading to my heart like warm sunshine. 
Love blooms as the music. 

You walk by comfortably. 
Take my hands out of my pockets. 
Don’t be nervous, wanted to introduce myself. 
On second thought, I was afraid you turn away from me. 

Errors fill up my head. 
I never thought these emotions would come again. 
Rather than receiving love, I give. 
Don’t be mine, let me be yours. 

My actions speak louder than my words. 
When you see me, don’t worry. 
Don’t try to look pretty. 
You are already my standard of beauty. 

What do you think about me? 
If I like you, would you like me? 
Doesn’t matter what you say. 
I’m gonna like you anyway.

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T.R.O.Y. (The Ruins Of You)


I stand in the ruins of you
carrying the casket
of the memories of us
a cradle of holy affection and love.
Here lie the shattered 8 months
of unison prayers, 
jeepney banters,
subtle, orgasmic whispers,
the euphoria of meeting your mother,
and the dreams we built 
on midnight kisses and sacred moans.

The pen you gave me
still holds
its allegiance to you
refusing to spill its ink
thriving on its own will
I grapple it by its neck
and watch it slowly faint.

Lonely hearts from the start,
we relished the thought of a lasting love.
Two candles burn
when two lovers pray.
On our very first date,
I cursed on how you made me wait.
On our very last day,
I prayed that He would make you stay.
People say first impressions last
But you had me only at second glance.

Sober fools in a clandestine night
we laughed and walked for hours and miles
You, holding my bag
Me, holding your hand.
This was before his ghost haunted you
alive and well.
This was before in between hours,
you’d forget my whispers
and long for his.
This was before your friend 
called me to say,
“Just let him go. Love is not supposed
to work this way.”

The dark clouds came
and never left.

I stand in the ruins of you,
claws clutching to the ground,
eyes beaten and tired,
feet still shackled 
with the ropes you gave me last June
and every inch of them is an untold story
and each story is a blow to my head.
Love is but a slowly unfolding agony.
I untangle these shackles I tied myself to.
I begin to remember 
the life I built around you and me,
the dreamy kisses,
the day I met your friends and family,
the night I got so drunk
you had to forget our fight
to come and get me,
the night you got so drunk
you had to forget our fight
to say you still love me.
But the high wasn’t worth the agony
of knowing that at my lowest point,
confined in a hospital,
covered with punctures,
you successfully abandoned me;
of carrying a bleeding heart every day
and hoping it won't leak;
of feeling the sands of time slip
away from your grasp,
along with all your hope and chance;
of finally choosing to live through hell
hoping that your lover would remember
the warmth of an earthly heaven
you built for yourselves and once lived in.
of knowing that the memory of us
would later turn to dust
and I am to collect them
with bare hands.
The walls of this temple begin to shatter
I am no longer your prisoner.
I stand in the ruins of you,
claws clutching
on crumpled bed sheets,
rubbles of your promises,
residues of your gifts,
pictures torn to pieces, 
my handwritten notes
a hundred poems, 
a thousand letters
and the ashes of our bodies.
I spread my wings 
and begin to rise
and look up for the clouds
The dark clouds that came
never left.
But I am.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about moving on.

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I’ll buy this place

even when I know it’s already catching fire,

see it burn so I can say

for once

I haven’t wasted my time.


I’ll buy this place full of future ash,

breathe it in just to say

for once

I’ve made something a beautiful part of me.


I can’t seem to command this heart

so once again I find myself

putting you back in poetry.


Trust me,

you are not

stronger than me

you are just stronger

than who I thought I was.


I am on the giant’s ladder

inside this house

and I didn’t know how much of a reach it was

until I found you and grew three sizes too perfect.


Remember that place?

It made a gorgeous sky-high fire,

we made a gorgeous sky-high fire,

they could see it

for miles around.


They whispered it

as the flames went down.


They spoke it like a drug

into every pool and valley,

every footstep when

they ran into each other.


They wove it into the colorful lips

of the world’s best storytellers.


They called it

something they had never seen before.


Maybe if we weren’t

so damn quick

to call ourselves each other’s burdens.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/12/17





i thought we had it all


you and me


thought that we could live


on love and a prayer


against all odds


a kind of evolutionary oddity




but love shall not live by


two by two


but by (un)holy trinity


for new blood


ensures genetic




lo, even in Eden


there were birds and there were bees...


for what the father without the hovering spirit


to move across the restless sea


and what old Dionysus


without the graces three...


faith, hope and Charity


spirit, soul and body




there were others then


outside the garden


those with eyes to see


the mark of Cain


the children of Seth's wisdom


and their bane


yea God in His wisdom foreordained


mighty Uriel of the flaming sword


to secure the secret


lest the nephilim partake


of that Other tree




yet even holy Noah's deluge


could not defeat the sacred purpose


for it was foreseen


that man should not live


by bred alone


but by word


turned sacrament


yea by spirit


clad in farse and blood ...




the time has come


to force the gates of Eden


to embrace the greater family tree




the serpent She spoke


hide the flame of


Eden in your hearts


ah my love – tis folly


the final idolatry


did you not know


two must needs give way


to three


yea four-fold vision


ere the sun


melt into the sea




now bare with me


second Eve


thy soft flesh




the primal one


conceive the darkness


from whence


the light doth come


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A Painted Picture


Verse 1:

Our love is a painted picture

in it, are our memories made together

I can only show you all that I am

I can promise you that you're the one

If only you'd give our love a chance

Don't mistake lust for love

'Cause I truly love you



I need you here in my arms

Together forever, always with each other

Let's not fear our obstacles of this love

It only has strengthened us

it brought us closer together

to make our love better

Verse 2:

Our love is a painted picture

hold me tonight

'Cause I'm eternally your's to keep

For life, love, and more



Just call on me

and i'll be there

our love is a painted picture

Happy moments are yet to come

take me by the hand

i'll guide you

through dante's infereno



I am sorry

you get


on my



on my



I am sorry

you have


to be jealous about


to lose


The blades

on my


will not

take sandpaper


The sounds

in my


will not

take no

for an answer


All the truth

I could tell

spells out for you

I can’t stand anything

I can’t change


so quiet is

the only place

I know how

to be sorry

I will try to

shout it to the sky

for you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/8/17

My Boyfriend’s Cologne


The very first time we had a date, my boyfriend put on his cologne. We went to the movie theater and saw the latest Star Wars movie. I did not notice at first, but after half an hour, I started to smell it. It really could be noticed inside the cold, dark and almost empty room. Never had I smelled something like it. It was sweet, but not too sweet. It was masculine, but not too masculine.  It was fresh, but not too fresh. It was clean, but not too clean…it was just his cologne and how he wore it. I was nervous but who would not be, he was my first boyfriend so I started to think what he meant to me, suddenly, his smile popped up in my mind, all of those beautiful, big and white teeth appeared in front of me… seeing him happy was the finest thing in life, there was nothing I would not do for him and I was conscious of it, I loved him, I really did. The minutes passed and I was not really there, for me there only was his presence in my head. It ended fine. Even though I had not understood half of the movie he told me to save the date for the release of the following the next year. We kept going out after that. One, two, three months had passed since we started dating until I was able to smell his cologne again. He had a folk-dance performance and I went just to see him on stage. The sunlight covered all the public square in which his mobile scenario was but a special ray of light hit his smile right when he saw me between the crowd. When it was over, I went “backstage” to salute him, when I did, we hugged and there it was, that cologne, lighter because of the sweat, but strong enough for me to smell. Four, five, six, seven months had passed since we started dating until I was able to smell his cologne again. It was his high school graduation day and surely I was going to be there. I went to the ceremony at the local theater and, when it finished, he saw me and as he approached to me with the same big beautiful smile he has always given me, I could start to detect the same lotion that had hypnotized me. Not much longer after that day, he started college and hanging out together got a little bit complicated. When vacations arrived, we could again hang out frequently but this time, it was different. Every time we had a date, he would put on some cologne. He did not care whether we were going to the cinema or to the club, every date became unique just because we would be with the other. He also had changed. His smile became brighter, his laugh noisier, his eyes more cheerful and his love stronger. He used to reserve his characteristic smell only for special occasions, but ever since we were not always together, every time we went out was one. He wanted to make sure I felt how much he cared about me. He started to pay attention to the little things. He no longer waited for big events to make something out of the routine.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Enjoy this little piece that came out of my heart!

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Dying Is Easy


Slip under

my skin, my armor,

my toys, my words,

be my eyes, my pride

I lie like an expert

and love like no one.


You are the voice I wish I could have

the messiest doorway I don’t have to duck under

because something in me knows

how many times I’ve been through it,

it’s late and this song is for you.


I don’t know how long

it will take me to sing,

I don’t know how tall

everything I give you stands.


Dying is easy-

it’s living that scares me to death.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 9/5/17

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