The Poetry Marathon

A Manananggal is a half-bodied lady with a giant wings of bat
She hunts for pregnant women who are sleeping in the huts

A Tikbalang is a human with a body of a horse
I know that you’re already familiar with centaurs

And a Kapre a giant man who lives on an old grim tree
Smoking cigars and teasing women in their sleep

There are also ugly Tyanaks, unborn babies
Who live to seek revenge
Duwendes are dwarves bat there are Nunos
Who live in jungle mounds

These are the folktales passed to us to keep us inside the house

my bed
is calling me with a
lustful tone
and i surely wanna
rest my bones
but this pen won’t stop rewriting.

[               ]

he’s already a widowman
before even having his
first wedding

and she
is always a true bride
groomed by self-preservation

two beautiful perpetual minds
vow under sorrow
and felicity

they could write
books of any sorts
but not of a love story.

Apex Predator

Once, I’ve seen an optimistic monkey got eaten by a cynical crocodile
A self-conscious caterpillar turned into a self-assured butterfly
And a denial bee believed that it could actually fly

Everything is uncertain in this deceptive jungle
But be careful with an animal who evolved to tell a lie

Once, I heard about the story of a gullible lion
And an illusive wolf dressed as a grandmother dying
The giant ears of a gentle elephant were used for flying

But in this mystifying forest
Only one animal mastered the art of lying

A Plate for the Whole Family

Here, my boy,
have some food
have some joy
in a plate of spaghetti.

Here, my boy,
this is all for you
take my love and
this plate of spaghetti.

Thank you, mom!
But we are poor
so why do we have
a plate of spaghetti?

It’s your birthday, boy!
“What’s birthday, ma?
We can share
this plate of spaghetti!”

Oh, Death!

I summoned Death and gave him my soul,
Just so he could live the curse of life.

In kindess he’s rich, in wisdom deprived,
The first thing he did was to love.
Oh, Death, how naive, love is a curse of life!

“No, love is a gift!” He screamed,
Wait till he sees where the bitter truth lies.

I waited til his heart was as ruined as mine,
Now he’s sore in pain and hopelessness.

I felt nothing when he yowl because,
I summoned Death and gave him my soul.

“No, love is a gift!” He screamed,
“Love and pain define a meaningful life!”
“‘… sources of wisdom that I was deprived!”

I gave Death my soul to live the curse of life,
Yet still I’m the one who suffered.

After the storm

After the
harsh wind blew ~ the
leaves
off
the
trees

After the rain
d
r
o
w
n
s
the life
off the beings

After
the gray clouds
deprived the

ground of sunlight

there you’ll see a new life
may it be a seedling of plant, or
of hope
every new beginning is beautiful.

Always live to see what’s after the storm.

Dear, you:

One of my brightest students that I had never doubt,
I wish you could message or see me sometime so we can talk about,
The things you really want to write and want to do,
Or the feelings when you’re down and when you’re blue.

You know you should never give up, right?
I heard you want to make a movie, then you should write,
The love stories you had told me with the class,
I really love that picture of you lying on the grass.

You know she’s lucky to meet a guy like you at a young age,
Back in my day all the boys are just full of rage,
Plus, you’re a really good student with a brain,
Funny how only I got the jokes in your campaign.

Anyway, I really wish I could hear something about you again,
Know that I’m here whenever you’re in pain,
Those problems you have right now, they will not last,
They are just another test that need to be passed.

But my support for you is still unsurpassed,
You’re still a young man so have a blast!

Flower in the city

I walked on the buried pavement of the Forgotten Avenue and saw some memories nailed to a dead oak tree.

I looked away and walked astray and I found her, the only one that looked alive in this dull city.

For years, I’ve been trapped inside a broken glass wine, tough is a life without amusement.

But she made me realized that I was barely alive, living in the space between the sunflower and the pavement.

he is a
perfect symphony
played in an antique piano
that has gone
out of tune.